#would keep you safe. if anything TOM would keep HIM safe. in fact tom himself says who else has taken care of you. literally spells it out. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 1) "transmission"

gif by me, moodboard by the lovely @sp00kymulderr ♥

pairing: frankie morales/nb!oc (they/them) rating: T (for now) chapter warnings: discussions of sexuality/gender (frankie doesn't understand some things and may use language that would be harmful, but it's not intentional), limited knowledge of the military, goth stereotypes abound, mentions of drug addiction/recovery, swearing, cute shit word count: 2.7k dividers by @saradika

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie morales thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

a/n - i can't thank y'all enough for giving my fic a chance! i'm really nervous about posting it since i haven't properly written anything in years, but i've had some lovely cheerleaders (@scenaaario - who is also my lovely beta, i want to kiss you on the mouth for making this fic sound like i wanted it to ♥♥ - @undercoverpena @mrsquill and @kedsandtubesocks i love you guys ♥) along the way that gave me the motivation to post this little story. comments and reblogs are super appreciated! i'd love to hear what y'all think <3

In 1994, the U.S. adopted “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” as the official federal policy on military service by lesbian, gay and bisexual individuals. It was officially repealed in 2011. Seventeen years. For seventeen years, LGBTQ folks, Frankie included, had to hide. At least, he felt he needed to.

He knew he was bisexual when he and his childhood best friend Mateo were in their sophomore year of high school. Frankie and all the other boys started to hit puberty the year before and things were changing: facial hair was slowly growing, voices were dropping. Mateo started to develop a little faster than Frankie did. Frankie really liked how Mateo was developing. It was a little weird, because they’d been best friends since they were still wearing underoos, but Frankie started to feel things whenever he hung out with Mateo. Things he normally only felt whenever Alana in third period flipped her hair over her shoulder, or whenever Charlotte in fifth period stretched before she started writing and her sweater pulled over her chest a little too much.

Frankie didn’t know what to do with this information or these feelings. He didn’t have a word for any of it, so he just never said anything. He had a couple girlfriends throughout high school, and to anyone who cared to think on it, would see that Frankie was like any other straight, high school boy.

In 1994, Francisco Morales joined the military. He was nineteen. It was never his plan growing up to join, but his dad always wanted him to. When he didn’t have his own plan after high school, he figured it was a safe bet since he had family in the service. While there, he worked his way up in the ranks and eventually met his brothers: Santiago, Benny, Will, and Tom. They would die for each other, had signed up to do so, in fact. He’d grown closest to Santiago, and it was the first time since he was 15 that he got those feelings again. He pushed them to the side, though, because that’s when she came into his life. He didn’t need those feelings getting in the way.

Frankie’s bisexuality really only came into his life a couple of times. His first girlfriend in the military, Layla, was also bisexual and that’s when he learned what the word was and that it also applied to him. She only ever told him since Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was in full swing. Of course he kept her secret, because she also kept his.

The only one of his group of brothers that didn’t know about his sexuality was Tom. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell him, and the others agreed it was best to keep it quiet. Santiago was the first one to know, then Will, and finally Benny. Ben was Ben about it when he found out. He immediately hugged Frankie and excitedly suggested they go to a gay bar instead of their usual hang out. It made Frankie laugh and Will smacked Ben on the back of the head. (They did end up going to a couple of gay bars from time to time. Frankie only went home with a guy once and the guys gave him a lot of shit for it, asking for details. Santiago gave him a smile and patted him on the back and said, “I’m glad you’re finally here, hermano.”)

Frankie had one man he’d consider a “boyfriend” in his life. After he left the military and after DADT was repealed, he went on a bit of a binge. He started hooking up with people more often, despite his introverted nature. He was always careful, safe, and eventually kept to one man for a couple years, before an especially messy breakup. They were both pilots in the military, but were based in different states; Frankie in Florida, and Jackson in Kentucky. They bonded quickly after meeting at a nightclub in Nashville. Neither one of them remembers why they were there, but they made it a point to see each other frequently, each of them taking turns flying out to see the other.

The breakup happened after Jackson found Frankie’s stash for the last time. The military affected everyone differently. For Frankie, his coke addiction is what got him through the sleepless nights. Jackson had found Frankie one too many times leaned over the back of a toilet and snorting god knows what. Jackson had his own problems with drugs and felt that Frankie ignored them in search of his next fix. Addiction had completely taken over Frankie’s life for the better part of five years. Frankie hated Jackson for leaving him when he most needed him, and lashed out, accusing Jackson of only ever wanting to fuck. That broke Jackson, as he thought about how deeply he loved Frankie. Gay marriage was legalized a year later, and had things panned out differently, they might still be together. He doesn’t blame Jackson for leaving anymore.

Frankie’s daughter, Marisol, changed everything. She was the love of his life, and he would do anything for her. After going back to his days of sleeping around after Jackson left, he met Maya. He kept telling her that he would get clean and go to therapy while she was pregnant, but not until he held his little Marisol in his arms for the first time did he commit to both. He and Maya never planned on being together officially, and decided co-parenting would be their best option.

He’d been clean and sober for two years by the time Santi told him about the Colombia job. He hadn’t flown, or been allowed to in that time, and was pretty content to never do so again. Every time he got in the pilot’s seat, it would take him to terrible places. But Santi was his best friend, so he took the job. He relapsed when he got home, after Tom. He never blamed Santi for it. He gave Frankie a choice, and where he could’ve said no, he didn’t.

Which brings him to where he is now, two years after Colombia. He’d crossed the street and stood in line for the entrance. He hadn’t been to this nightclub in a while. He looked up at the sign for the club, and raised an eyebrow. The Night Owl. That… isn’t what it was called last time. Was it sold? Apparently, it had recently undergone a rebranding, with new owners, and a slightly… different clientele.

The best way he could describe it now was that it was a goth club. Frankie had never personally been to this sort of club, not really being a fan of the music or subculture, but never had a negative opinion either. He stuck out like a sore thumb when he entered, the bouncer giving him a once over and chuckling, but letting him in anyway.

He made his way over to the bar and had a seat, taking in his surroundings and started people watching. He planned on going out tonight, and possibly go home with someone. A club is a club, so he decided to stick around and see what all the fuss was about.

The walls shook with the heavy bass and beats of the music. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard before. His nostrils filled with the scent of clove cigarettes and hairspray. Everywhere he looked, someone completely decked out in teased hair and black clothing caught his attention. He smiled softly at all the variations in people’s style, wondering how long it took for all of them to get ready in the morning.

The bartender, a large man with heavy eye makeup and a lot of chains and spikes, came up to him and smirked. He felt a presence behind him and when Frankie finally faced forward again, he startled a little, not expecting such an imposing figure to be giving him a staredown.

“What’ll you be havin’, stripes?”

“Stripes?”

The bartender, who had a patch sewed onto his denim vest that read “Viper”, rolled his eyes and gestured vaguely to Frankie’s whole self. “You mean to tell me you’re not military?”

Frankie blinked a couple times and huffed a laugh. “Ex-military, yeah. Is that… okay?”

Viper gave him a long look, eyes slightly narrowed, and pointed to one of the many tattoos on his arm, up high on his shoulder. It was an old one, a little faded, but Frankie recognized it as the stripes given to Sergeant Majors. “I left after this. Got injured,” he said.

“Sorry to hear that.”

Viper shrugged and reached under the bar, cleaning a glass. “I’m not. So what’re you havin’?”

Frankie thought about it for a second. “I’ll probably regret this, but surprise me.”

An amused look crossed Viper’s features, but he nodded and started mixing a drink for him. Frankie noticed all the ingredients used; lager beer, hard cider, and some kind of syrup. He raised a brow and picked up the glass as Viper slid it across the bar for him. Frankie gave him a look as if to say, ‘Is this safe?’ despite having just watched Viper make it. The bartender chuckled and just gestured for him to give it a try.

Frankie took a deep breath and gulped down a drink. A little foam was stuck to his mustache when he lowered the glass from his face. “Not bad. What is it?” Frankie asked.

“Snakebite. Kind of a staple around here,” Viper hummed, cleaning a different glass.

Frankie chuckled at the name. Of course that’s what it was called.

Viper was pulled away when a pretty girl with big, teased hair and dark makeup came up to the bar. Frankie took the opportunity to look around the place again.

The music was best described as “dark” and “broody”, unsurprisingly, with slow tempos and even lower vocals. Everyone on the dancefloor was slowly swaying back and forth and, once in a while, would move their arms in ethereal shapes.

Frankie remembered seeing one of the younger teachers at Marisol’s daycare wearing a t-shirt with a band logo that looked like a bundle of sticks. He tried figuring out what it said once, but was too afraid to ask, so he still doesn’t know. He doesn’t think she’d be at this kind of club.

“You’re new. Bit like a zoo your first time here, I bet.”

Frankie startled, putting his hand over his heart and turned to look at who was talking. Someone had sat next to him and was grinning, taking a sip from their own drink; something dark red and a little cloudy. He blinked a couple times and took in their features; big green eyes rimmed with dark lines, two different nose piercings, and black lipstick. Their hair was long and straight, dark, and with the right side in front of their ear shaved completely. He couldn’t quite figure out if who he was talking to was male or female, the androgyny of their look very clear.

“Uhh, hello?” They waved their hand, full of rings and black nail polish, in front of his face and chuckled quietly. “Oh! Maybe–” They cut themselves off and started making a bunch of symbols and shapes with their fingers and hands.

Frankie blinked and started laughing softly. “I’m not deaf! Sorry,” he grinned. “You just startled me, that's all.”

“Oh!” The stranger laughed, too, putting a hand on his right knee in a friendly gesture. He looked down at the hand and smiled, his heart skipping a beat. Even if he didn’t know very much about them, he couldn’t deny it; they were very pretty.

He removed his cap and ran his fingers through the unruly curls for a second before putting the hat back on. “Sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, it’s my first time here. I didn’t realize the club had changed owners.”

“It did?” They asked, tilting their head to the left slightly.

“Yeah, it was a– Uh, last time I was here, it was a… different kind of club,” Frankie mumbled.

The stranger’s eyes twinkled mischievously, the smirk still present on their lips. “What kind of club? Are you secretly into some really heavy BDSM type stuff?” They wiggled their eyebrows.

Frankie had started taking a drink of his Snakebite again and nearly choked on it at the stranger’s teasing. He coughed a couple times, a wide grin on his face. “No! Nothing like that,” he chuckled.

The stranger snapped their ring-clad fingers like they were hoping he’d say otherwise and slumped their shoulders in disappointment. “Damn…”

Frankie’s cheeks warmed at the insinuation, but laughed, convinced they were just joking with him. He cleared his throat and continued, “Y-Yeah, uh, I wasn’t expecting this kind of… group, when I came by. Although, the name of the place probably should’ve warned me.”

“What kind of group?” The stranger grinned, watching his handsome features change from thoughtful to concerned.

Frankie panicked, worried he’d somehow offended them, and cleared his throat again. “N-Not that there’s anything wrong with– Um! I don’t, actually… know,” he tapered off, looking down as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

The stranger snorted and waved him off. “I’m fucking with you,” they laughed. “I know what you mean. When I heard a new club opened up closer to my apartment, I got pretty excited. No more hour-long drives to the nearest one, y’know?”

Frankie nodded, their low, smooth voice captivating him the longer they spoke.

“Oh! Meant to say this before, but my name’s River,” they smiled and held their hand out to him to shake.

“Frankie,” he answered, holding his own hand out to return the gesture. But River beat him to it, and gripped his long, thick fingers in their own hand and kissed the back of his softly.

Frankie blushed like mad, eyes widening slightly. No one had ever kissed his hand before. He kept his eyes downcast, his hand still securely in River’s grasp.

River tilted their head, brows furrowed in concern before letting go of his hand. “Sorry, was that–?”

“No! N-No, um…” Frankie smiled shyly, tugging at a loose curl behind his ear. “It was fine– Nice, actually.”

River grinned as if they had clocked him immediately. “Well, Frankie, it was very nice meeting you. Will I see you here again?” They asked, looking him up and down.

Frankie found himself nodding before he could say or do anything else. “Y-Yeah, absolutely. Um, how–?”

“My song just came on, and I simply must dance to it. Later,” River winked, stood, and leaned over to kiss Frankie’s cheek as they slipped something into the front pocket of his flannel shirt.

River was gone before Frankie could ask anything else, his eyes following after them as they reached the dancefloor. He watched them dance for a few minutes before he was brought out of it by someone clearing their throat behind him. He spun around and saw Viper, the bartender, leaning toward him and giving him a look.

“You gonna pay for these drinks?” He grumbled, motioning toward Frankie’s Snakebite and whatever River was drinking.

He followed Viper’s tattooed finger and cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his wallet out and putting a couple bills on the bar. Viper nodded in thanks and Frankie took that as his cue to leave.

As he stood, he looked toward the dancefloor again in the hopes of seeing River one last time. When he didn’t, he tried to shake himself off and made his way toward the entrance. The bouncer gave him a look and Frankie just shrugged as he exited the club. The cool night air hit his still-warm cheeks, making him feel like he came back to reality.

“Oh, right,” he mumbled to himself and reached into his front pocket and pulled out a little scrap of paper. A phone number with two cute little devil horns drawn on either side and a little, ‘text me?’ written down beneath it.

Frankie smiled to himself and rubbed the ink on the paper with his thumb.

#frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fluff #pedro pascal characters #oaksfics

235 notes · View notes

topgun-imagines · 2 years

Text

Sleepless Nights

Requested: no

Summary: One night, Ice finds out that you have trouble sleeping. He will do anything in his power to change that.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of nightmares. Insomnia. Mentions of death.

Pairings: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

“What are you doing out here?” Iceman’s voice startled you out of your daydream. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes from your position on the floor. He had an eyebrow cocked. From what you could tell, it looked like he was about to leave from a run. You glanced around for a clock and sighed when you came up empty. “It’s 4:30 in the morning.” He stated, obviously picking up on what you were looking for.

You shrugged slightly, eyes fluttering shut. “Couldn’t sleep,” Your voice was rough and gravely. It was safe to say that you were beyond exhausted. Dark circles rimmed your eyes and you were yawning practically every minute.

Ice didn’t leave. He watched you worriedly. “And you thought that sitting in the hallway was a good idea?” He wasn’t intending for it to be condescending but by the grimace that crossed your face and the tensing of your shoulders, he could tell that he missed the mark.

You were silent for a moment. Ice gathered that you had decided not to respond. Your eyes fluttered open and your head lolled to the side as you offered him a barely-there smile and a shrug. He sighed quietly. It was no secret to most that the relationship between the two of you was bordering on more than friendship. Ever since you had arrived at Top Gun, you had instantly clicked with the blond pilot. Despite what others said, you knew for a fact that he had a heart of gold under that cold exterior. Even so, you weren’t one for opening up to people. Something that had drawn you to Ice was the fact that you could tell that he wouldn’t be someone to bombard you with personal questions. Still, he was concerned for you. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” Ice questions. You sighed lightly and began fiddling with the rings on your fingers.

Crouching in front of you, Ice pressed his hand on top of yours, drawing your eyes up to meet his. You could see the concern swirling around his ocean-blue eyes. Sighing, you glanced back down at his hand and intertwined a few of your fingers with his. “I’m assuming you know what insomnia is,” You started. When you felt Ice tense you squeezed his hand softly. While you didn’t know all the details, you knew that Ice had struggled with sleep in the past. You suspected it had something to do with his father, yet you never found a reason to bring up old memories by asking.

The man in front of you nodded softly as a signal for you to continue. When you didn’t say anything else Ice sighed. All you offered was a slight nod. Ice knew that you weren’t one for opening up to people. He knew that it was hard for you and you preferred to keep everything bottled up. But, with how close the two of you had gotten he would have thought that you trusted him enough to come to him. Especially if it was this bad. You knew that he himself had experienced the same issues, so why hadn’t you come to him? He could have helped you.

Ice shook his head with a sigh. This wasn't a pity party for him. Still, he had to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?” When he saw the tears collect on your lash line he cursed quietly. Gathering you in his arms the pilot pulled you into his lap as he took your place, back against the wall and hands running soothingly up and down your back. You buried your face in his neck as you tried to contain your cries. He rocked you back and forth softly, patiently waiting for you to answer.

“I don’t know,” you murmured shakily. “I didn’t want you to worry.” You remember how concerned you had been for Ice when he told you about his sleeping issues. You didn’t want to put that burden on him.

He sighed. Slowly, his arm moved around you and gently tipped your chin up so that you met his eyes. There was a soft smile on his face, “I’m always gonna worry about you,” He stated. You blushed slightly. The pair of you were quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. “If it happens again, please come to me. I’ll leave my door open. Just come in and we’ll sort things out, okay?” It was no louder than a whisper but in such close proximity, you heard it loud and clear. You nodded lightly.

You stood from his lap a leaned back against the wall. Ice stood up after you. He pressed a comforting hand to your shoulder and gave you a look. It was one that he reserved specifically for you. One that you knew was meant to bring you comfort. And it did. With one last knowing look, you and Ice parted, him heading out on his run while you headed back to your dorm. If you couldn’t get some sleep then you might as well get ready.

Not even 24 hours later you were standing in front of Iceman’s door. You nervously brought your hand up to rap on the wood quietly. It was quiet enough for only Ice to hear, ensuring that you woke no one else up. Moments later the door pulled open.

Ice was a light sleeper. He had been ever since he was little. Growing up in the home that he did, really left him no choice. The pilot had heard your door creak open and the soft footsteps to his door. He was already up and out of his small bed before you had even hit the door. He opened it softly, so soon after you knocked that it pulled a startled gasp from you. “Come in.” He spoke before you had even opened your mouth. His voice was raspy and full of sleep. It made you pause slightly. You had never heard it like that before.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Ice murmured, motioning towards his bed that was pushed into the corner. You sat down, back resting against the wall and feet dangling off the edge. The blond headed over to the small kitchen on the other side of his dorm. Moments later he was back and handing you a steaming cup of tea. “It’s your favorite.” He offered you a warm smile as he sat down next to you. You blushed and took a sip as he pulled a blanket over your legs.

You hummed at the taste of the tea. Ice had managed to make it exactly how you liked it. He began talking quietly, trying to draw your mind off of whatever had been keeping you up. Eventually, your head ended up resting on his shoulder. The pair of you continued talking in hushed voices.

A yawn escaped your mouth. Looking down at you with a soft smile, Ice set his hand on your thigh. “Let’s try and get some sleep, yea?” You yawned once more and nodded. His hand squeezed your thigh as he stood from the bed. You followed suit. “You want the wall or the edge?”

He was pulling back the blanket, eyes on the task at hand while you watched him. You must have zoned out because the next thing you felt was his hand grasping your wrist gently. Blinking your eyes you focused back on Ice. “The wall, please.” You whispered. Wordlessly, Ice nodded and stepped back, allowing you to climb onto the tiny bed first. The bed was certainly small and Ice was definitely not. It was a standard-issued Navy bed that was barely big enough to fit one person. It would be a miracle if you made it work.

It took some maneuvering but eventually, you both got settled. You were on your side facing the wall with your arms curled up under the pillow. Ice, on the other hand, was laying flat on his stomach, his left arm and leg dangling off the edge of the bed. Your eyes fluttered shut, breathing in the scent of Ice’s cologne and aftershave. In mere minutes you were asleep, finally able to after weeks of sleepless nights. You had missed the goodnight that Ice whispered.

Iceman was awake for at least another 45 minutes. listening as your breathing evened out, a small smile growing on his face. He was glad that you were finally getting the sleep that you needed. Shortly later, Ice’s soft snores filled the room.

In only a few hours Ice was awake again. He could feel you tossing and turning in bed next to him. Rolling on his side, he propped himself up on his elbow. When he saw your face contorted in pain and heard the small whimpers leaving your lips, he reached over and began to shake you softly. It’s like he wasn’t even touching you, the way you had no reaction to anything he was doing. He began to whisper your name, shaking you slightly harder. Nothing happened. Ice’s eyes widened when you began to cry out louder. It was as if you could feel him shaking you, but it wasn’t waking you up, it was only furthering the horror in your dream.

He called your name louder. Panic was evident in his voice. It was almost reaching the point that he was yelling, begging you to wake up. It took him a few more minutes but eventually, he watched as you jolted awake. Your breathing was labored as you bolted up in bed. Ice sighed. Leaning back against the wall he ran a hand down his face. His eyes driffted to you.

Once you caught your breath you cursed quietly. The one night that you had a chance to share a bed with Iceman, the one night that you might have had a chance at a decent sleep and you had your nightmares to thank for ruining it all. You let out a groan as you tossed your head back against the wall.

“So it's not just insomnia,” Ice stated. You could feel him watching you from the corner of his eye. He flicked the bedside lamp on as you shifted away from him.

You glanced down at your hands folded in your lap. “‘M sorry,” It was no louder than a murmur. Ice heard it nonetheless. He watched as you began fiddling with your fingers, not daring to meet his eyes. “I haven’t had one in a while.” The pilot could hear the small hint of hope in your voice. He could tell that you had been expecting them to be gone. In that moment, Ice knew that if the universe was in charge of whatever was happening now, it was playing one awful trick on you. The first night in months that insomnia wouldn’t plague you and you have a horrific nightmare. It didn’t seem fair.

Ice laid back down on his side of the bed. Patting the space next to him, he signaled for you to lie down as well. When you did, you lay facing him, still refusing to meet his eyes. You needed comforting right now. That was what was circling around Ice’s mind when he reached up to hold your cheek. That made you freeze. Slowly, your eyes travelled up from your hands, over his bare chest and up to his eyes. “Can I ask what it was about?” He spoke quietly. There was no need to scare you more than you already were.

“It was nothing really.” His eyes drifted across the tears strewn across your cheeks. You watched as his eyes scanned your face. The worry was evident in them, his eyes shining brightly even in the dim glow of the lamp.

His thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping some of the tears from your face. “These aren’t for nothing,” He stated softly. With a humorless chuckle, your eyes drifted across his face. He was already this far in. What’s the harm in explaining?

You sighed. “We were in the air and there was an accident,” You heard Ice’s breath hitch. The reality of Goose’s death had been weighing heavy on all of you. Ice had thought that you were less affected than most; you were good at hiding your emotions and rarely opened up to people. Clearly, he had been wrong. “Pretty much the same thing as Goose. Only this time it was just you and me,” He had a feeling he knew where this was going. “You were the one that went down. Cause of me.”

The pilot could see the tears welling in your eyes. With a sigh, his arms wound around you. He began tracing patterns into the fabric of your academy sweater. Ice waited until your cries subsided before sitting the pair of you up. He passed you the water bottle from the bedside table and watched as you took it with a gentle smile. The pair of you remained quiet as you sipped on the water bottle.

You put the cap back on the water and handed it to him. “Thanks,” You muttered quietly. A harsh sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your palms over your eyes. “Shit, Ice. I’m sorry,” You ran a hand down your face and sighed. Ice watched you carefully. There were still tears tracking down your face. You peeled your eyes open to look at him. He couldn’t help but notice how red and bloodshot they were. “You should go back to sleep. We have class in the morning,” Ice knew damn well that the pair of you had to be up early. That didn’t mean that he was going to let you suffer alone. When you saw his hesitant look you offered him a small smile. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

The blond watched you carefully. He watched the way your lashes fluttered against your cheek as you fought to not let sleep consume you. Ice could tell that if he went to sleep now you would either stay in his room, wide awake, or you would leave after you knew he wouldn't notice. He couldn't have that. “C’mere,” It was softly spoken. His voice was gravely and full of sleep. You instantly felt bad for keeping him awake. This wasn’t his problem.

You tried to protest, stopping when Iceman fixed you with a stern look. He smiled softly when you blushed and scooted closer to him. His arms wound around your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your hand landed on his warm chest. When you looked up at him, you realized just how close you were. If either one of you were to move forward just less than an inch, you would be kissing. He offered you a small, reassuring smile. A light blush rose on your cheeks again as you ducked your head.

Ice chuckled quietly and pressed his lips to the crown of your head. Instantly, he could feel you freeze. He groaned internally. That was not what he was supposed to do. What in the world was wrong with him? He must have held his breath for a minute before either of you did anything. When you hummed quietly and nuzzled your head against his chest he relaxed. So maybe it was the right thing to do. You rested your ear against his chest. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead making you smile again. “Goodnight.” He whispered softly.

Throwing one of your arms over his waist you pressed a light kiss to his left peck. A giggle escaped you when you heard his breath hitch. “Goodnight, Ice.” You spoke just as softly, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled over the room. Minutes later, the soft beating of his heart lulled you to sleep. When Ice heard your breathing even out he allowed himself to relax. Now, he allowed sleep to overtake him, content knowing that you were okay. Ice held you for the rest of the night. For the first time in a long time, you had had a good night's sleep.

In the morning, he woke you with soft kisses planted all over your face. He whispered your name softly, telling you that it was time to get up. The pair of you headed to class together, his arm wrapped around your waist at any chance he could. Last night was just the first of many that you would spend curled up with Iceman. If he could help it, he would spend the rest of his life with you, holding you as you slept. Protecting you.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open.

#tom kazansky #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky fanfic #iceman x reader #iceman #iceman top gun #top gun fanfiction #iceman x female reader #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun x female reader #top gun angst #top gun 1986 #ice x reader #val kilmer #ice

1K notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 4 months

Note

If the Dolls somehow made it to bigfatbreak's Viceroy AU, what do you think they would do?

Well, I wouldn't want to deviate too much from @bigfatbreak's au, so given the circumstances of the AU and Adrien's lack of knowledge that Marinette is Ladybug, the wish would either have to have been made pre-Mama's Day and reveal or Adrien lost his memories of Chaton and coparenting with Marinette. Or alternatively the dolls were just messing around and end up in an alternate reality and just decide to fix things as they come across them.

With that said, Chaton and Littlebug wouldn't know what happened or why the world changed, but they would still find their way to their respective parents and their new circumstances.

Chaton would go to the bakery and find Grand Mama is gone and Mama is sad and the butter-lies are everywhere. Grand Papa catches Chaton immediately. Tom for his part is initially wary, but thanks to his use of the Butterfly Miraculous, he can talk with Chaton and sense his emotions. A bit surprised that a doll has emotions, and even more surprised to find out the doll cares so much about Marinette. With the empathy powers of the Butterfly and the information from Nooroo and Chaton himself, Tom realizes Chaton carried over from the previous timeline and was created based on the Chat Noir hero. Much like Nooroo, Tom has Chaton stay with Marinette to keep her company and keep her safe. Chaton is happy about this since it means he can be with Mama still, even if she is different. Marinette is surprised with this, but hey, she's already met Nooroo and knows magic is real. Plus Chaton is too cute to be scared of.

Littlebug goes to Adrien. She is relieved Adrien is okay and Adrien in turn is relieved Littlebug at least is still around in this new crazy world. Littlebug is confused as to the changes. Seeing Adrien's mother is alive when Chaton tells her that Marinette's mother isn't. She finds this change unfavorable especially as she learns more about Emilie and comes to be increasingly disappointed in the mother Adrien had spoken to her so much about. Not helped by the fact that she still very much dislikes Gabriel and becomes even more suspicious of him. She stays hidden as much as possible and doesn't risk letting Gabriel find her, even when she's pretending to be a toy (especially important as Ladybug isn't a thing here in this timeline).

...of course, that's not to say she doesn't mess with him. Gabriel still finds himself the subject of a number of unpleasant happenstances when it's most inconvenient for him.

When Adrien starts regularly going to the bakery and spending time with Marinette, Littlebug goes with him. This naturally leads her to 1) reunite with Chaton and 2) discover Tom has the Butterfly Miraculous. Yes, he finds her just like he found Chaton by sensing her presence with the Butterfly Miraculous, but make no mistake: she finds him first.

She isn't sure what to think about him using the Butterfly Miraculous, but he isn't Hawk Moth, isn't mean to Nooroo, and has not nor intends to hurt Adrien or Marinette. Not to mention that when Tom (being able to sense Littlebug's emotions and her fierce protectiveness) outright informs her of Hawk Moth targeting Marinette and his plans to track him down....yeaaah, Littlebug is ALL on board with that. She agrees to helping him. Uses the time Adrien comes by to visit with Chaton but also plan with Tom and let him know anything she knows or remembers or finds out. She helps him spy on Gabriel in particular, since in her mind if ANYONE is stinky enough to be Hawk Moth, it's him.

Littlebug and Chaton would have full memories of the previous timeline. They would know each other and about Marinette and Adrien being Ladybug and Chat Noir. Sadly, they wouldn't know that Gabriel is Hawk Moth otherwise things would be resolved very quickly as Chaton would tell Tom about him right away and Littlebug would enact ALL. UNHOLY. VENGEANCE upon him before Tom even gets a chance to.

Then there's Chaton. He's a good boy, so he's never far from Marinette and helps her any way he can. It's hard because she's sad and working too much so often, but he does his best! And it's strange being around the not-quite-Butter-lies (Fairies?), but they're nice and friendly so he doesn't eat them, which Nooroo quite appreciates. Despite the changes, Chaton would be happy here.

.....if only the mean whispies would go away.

He can see them. See them and feel them. Dark icky things that twist and coil and attach to Mama. He thinks at first they're what's making her sad. But then they attack his Mama at certain times. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't like it. So he bats the whispies away if he can.

....sometimes that means the whispies hurt him instead.

He doesn't like them.

He. Doesn't. Like. Them.

He can push at them to help Mama breathe, but he can't fight them off. Not entirely. He tries though! He's a good boy! But it's hard. And it hurts. And he gets tired more easily because Mama doesn't have the Pinkling.

Grand Papa is different here. He doesn't know about the whispies but seems to understand when Chaton tries to tell him. All Chaton knows is that the whispies are hurting Mama and were caused by the past Hawk Moth. Grand Papa is trying to find him to make the whispies stop.

Grand Papa is better than Meanie Moth. He listens to Chaton. And Littlebug seems to like him, too! So Chaton will trust Grand Papa to stop Meanie Moth. He will protect Mama in the meantime.

And when Chaton gets tired or is feeling hurt, Mama and the Fairies help him feel better.

But that's okay! He's a good boy and he'll take it so Mama doesn't have to.

...

Ultimately, the dolls try to help the best way they can.

Chaton by protecting Marinette.

Littlebug by finding the one responsible and making him pay.

#ml crossover #nobody answers #dolls au #viceroy au #villain dad au #littlebug and chaton noir #littlebug #chaton noir #dolls angst #gabriel is an idiot

106 notes · View notes

notwarriorswiki · 1 year

Note

Nightstar is an interesting choice for being Rosetail's mate and the father of Redtail, Spottedleaf, and Willowpelt. Anything prompt that change? What's their history?

Rosetail was often made to feel like an outsider in her own clan due to never knowing who her mother was and Thistleclaw constantly pointing this out. When her best friend Bluefur began to drift away and her father grew older as leader, Rosetail ended up developing a friendship with the frail ShadowClan tom, Nightpelt.

He was unlike other ShadowClan warriors, so soft spoken and kind. Learning he wasn't born in ShadowClan and instead came as an outsider himself... well it just struck a chord with Rosetail. A curiosity about the world she came from enveloped her, and the two became close.

They realize later they're better off as friends, and while they truly do care for each other, they aren't mates in StarClan. Still, Nightpelt is the father of Redtail, Spottedleaf, and Willowpelt, and keeps his identity as their father a secret.

When ShadowClan was beginning to feel the wrath of Brokenstar's leadership, Rosetail begged her dear friend to seek shelter in ThunderClan, where Bluestar could keep him safe. However, Nightpelt knew it would only put Rosetail and his kits in danger, as well as scrutiny to happen when it was far too late to be addressed. He couldn't leave his clanmates, not when young were dying left and right. Sadly though, Rosetail is killed by the very cats Nightpelt hoped to protect her from...

Nightpelt is heartbroken knowing he outlived two of the kits he never got to know. It also hurts more when he learns it was his brother who killed Spottedleaf :(

As you can see, their kits really do look like them!

Smaller facts

Nightheart is descended from Nightstar

Bluefur knew the father. Rosetail confided in her and they rekindled their close friendship. She was the only other cat to know the truth. Bluefur would protect the kits with her life.

Rosetail was in love with Bluestar but alas nothing ever came from it.

Willowpelt is named after her father by Rosetail's request, Sunstar honoring it even if he didn't know the true reason.

Redtail is named after Rosetail.

Redtail, Spottedleaf, and Willowpelt are 75% "Outsider Blood", and 25% ThunderClan.

Spottedpaw is a medicine cat apprentice from the beginning, never a warrior. Thistleclaw tries to manipulate her prophetic dreams and guide her in his favor rather than the Spottedleaf's Heart version. There is no romantic relationship.

#warrior cats #nightstar #rosetail #redtail #spottedleaf #willowpelt #brokenstar #bluestar #thistleclaw #art #po12

191 notes · View notes

undonerhapsodize · 2 years

Text

Domestic Burdens

Sonic the Hedgehog Movie!Knuckles the Echidna x g/n!reader TW: cursing, implies violence, injury, blood, bruised limbs, much angst, comfort and fluff, happy ending, SPOILERS FOR THE SONIC MOVIES Word Count: 10.4K

Summary: You never thought you would find yourself living in the same house as a walking, talking echidna. Yet, as you adjust to this new life, secrets begin to unravel, for better, or for worse.

Side note: I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction because I am mentally ill, I am not mentally ill because I write sonic the hedgehog fanfiction.

I cannot believe this is actually one of my better works of fiction.

Living with Knuckles was an… interesting experience to say the least. “Jarring” is the word you would probably use to describe it, along with “pleasant”.

Never in your life had you ever encountered something like him. And with Knuckles being a echidna and all, that fact was pretty unsurprising.

When you first met the guy, it took a lot of self control and convincing from Tom to not go and bash your head against the nearest hard surface. The hedgehog was one thing, he was a one-off. Tails was another, he was kind, kinda cute, and helpful so he got a pass. But another one? And he's big and scary? AND he can beat the shit outta you? Needless to say, you went home and took an ibuprofen.

Jokes aside, he was off-putting at the beginning. To you, at least. While Sonic felt comfortable in forgiving the harm the warrior had caused almost instantaneously, you weren’t so easy-going. Not that you had held any kind of long lasting hatred for what Knuckles had done, but rather it was simply a matter of time and understanding. And understand you did, with the help of Sonic, Tails, and even the echidna himself. It turned out that hearing it straight from the horse's mouth was an effective way of realizing the complexity of the situation Eggman had put the lot of them in, especially Knuckles.

And with that, and the promise of friendship between the hedgehog and the echidna, suspicions of Knuckles’ character disappeared just as fast as they arrived. You didn’t plan on holding his mistakes above his head (like it would do anything remotely close to helping relations heal), for his own past transgressions are just as permanent to him as they are to Sonic and Tails, and everyone else for that matter. Knuckles was a kind being, and you knew that now. Losing his way in his endeavor to protect the Master Emerald doesn’t change that.

Your friendship with him had started out of circumstance. After the fiasco with Eggman, the gang needed to find a place to safely keep the weapon. Tom and Maddie’s place was quickly rooted out as a station. Their home was too close to the city to house it properly. There would be too many strangers getting within reach of it every single day. An accident was bound to happen with that lack of security. There was also the issue with Eggman himself, if he were to ever return. The doctor knew of Tom, but didn’t technically know you. Yes, you were indeed present for much of the chaos, but you all had a feeling Eggman didn’t pay much attention to a random stranger whilst piloting a giant robot.

Lucky enough, you had your own home outside of city limits. It was much like a farmhouse, except for the farm. Wide open space, way out in the country, and no neighbors within sight. It was almost too perfect. Feeling generous and knowing there were limited options, you offered up your humble abode for Knuckles and his emerald to stay. He thought about your proposal for a while before ultimately accepting, saying something along the lines of “I accept your offer, comrade. Let us shake on this alliance.”

You didn’t understand why Sonic had zipped up to you two, frantically trying to stop him from grasping your hand. Knuckles’ handshake was fine? Like yeah his hand (paw? foot??) is big, but it's not like it would crush yours or anything.

And with that, Knuckles became your new housemate, and you became the substitute Guardian of the Master Emerald.

At first, it was a bit… awkward. It wasn’t hard to tell that the warrior felt out of place, to at least some degree. He spent most of the time in his own designated area of the basement, quietly keeping to himself and no doubt watching the Emerald. He came out to get food, or use the bathroom, or perhaps borrow a book from the shelf in the living room. He did talk some, but not enough to you would like. Sometimes you would act more extroverted than you really were, going out of your way to ask the echidna some questions about Angel Island and his preferences on certain things. He always gave short, curt answers that went straight to the point. If you didn’t know better, you could think he’d be pissed at you for asking anything at all. If you had to pick a favorite, once you asked him what his favorite fruit was, only to get a bizarrely serious response. As Knuckles padded back into the basement, he stopped briefly, contemplating his answer for a second or two before glancing back at you.

“I enjoy grapes.”

He walked away right after.

Not letting Knuckles’ lack of social skills inhibit your progress, you still pursued. And steadily, you gained progress. First came simple things, like what the echidna liked to eat, or what he would do to pass time while watching the Master Emerald. Then, conversations started to happen, usually about what Sonic, Tom and the gang were up to. Sometimes you spoke about how work had gone for you, though in the beginning you usually held back on talking too much about that, since Knuckles never seemed to be listening. Later on, you were given a pleasant surprise.

One time, as you stood at the kitchen’s stovetop cooking up something for you and Knuckles, who sat quietly on a barstool at the kitchen island. You had started to feel as if you were rambling on about this one incident that happened with your coworkers. With no response from the red mammal, you assumed your story was starting to become a bother. So you stopped about halfway through it, instead deciding to focus on the pan in front of you. He’s a battle-hardened warrior, why would he ever want to listen to some silly story about spilled coffee? Going back to the food, you were content to quiet down, despite that annoying feeling in your chest.

“Why did you stop?”

The question surprised you. It was abrupt, coming from behind. Turning, you look toward the echidna, who now had his eyes on you. The softer, smaller quills on his brow were furrowed in genuine confusion. Fumbling for your words a bit, you reply back just as confused. “S-sorry, I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I was.” Knuckles countered, tone lowered in his earnesty. He titled his head back down to the kitchen counter from once it came, folding his arms across the hard surface comfortably. “Continue. I was enjoying your tale.”

At that, you grin, going back to the stove to finish cooking you and the echidna’s dinner whilst you recount the events from this morning at the office.

Knuckles soon became a key person in your life. He was not one for words, but you soon learned not many were needed with him. Most often then not, he understood the silence was a natural part of company. A thing others could learn from him, including yourself. He even gave advice on the simple things that troubled you. His straightforward way of communicating never failed to speak the obvious when truths were hard to say out loud. Though your friendship with him had just started, you trusted him. And just maybe, he trusted you. He was always there, figuratively AND literally.

Though you planned on changing that last part.

It wasn’t often where you would descend to the basement into Knuckles’ domain. You never wanted to intrude upon his space, his privacy and security were important to you. Though once in a while, you would have to enter to ask a question or two.

He didn’t have a door, only a long set of stairs leading to the bottom floor. He could definitely hear you coming as you stepped down, down. The stairs weren’t exactly the quietest thing. As you peaked around the corner, you knocked firmly on the wood of the wall, just in case he was preoccupied and hadn’t heard you. You greet him all the same, knowing to announce yourself when he is on guard duty. “Hey Knux?”

There you saw the echidna, laying on an older model of a coach you had given him, head propped up on a cushion while reading a book. The master emerald laid on the other end of said coach. He moved the novel away from his snout so it wasn’t obscuring his vision of you, responding to the nickname you had given him like it was own with a simple “What is it?”

Given the greenlight, you asked your question “Where'd you put all the total paper?”

He seemed confused. It was an emotion that occurred to him often when dealing with things like this. He thought for a split second before asking his own question back. “From… when I helped you in storing the supplies?”

You nodded, assuring him he was right. “Yeah when we put the groceries away a few days ago.”

Knuckles looked deep in thought as he tried recalling the event, eyes in a blank stare seeing nothing at all as he dug up the answer. It would be fitting for a buffering effect to appear above his head at this moment.

He looked over, slowly turning his head as he drawled out his sentence. “I think… I recall… placing the package inside… the garment washing station?” It came out more as a question than anything else, holding little confidence.

You blinked, still perplexed. You spoke to yourself quietly, not directly talking to Knuckles anymore. “The laundry room? Huh.” You paused, scratching the back of your head. “I already checked it. Guess I’ll look again.”

“Have I put it in the wrong location?” Though it was just a few words, you could detect a small amount of apprehension in his voice.

You wave him off casually, wanting to ease any guilty feelings that may be developing. “Nono you’re fine. That’s where I told you to put them. I’ll just have to take another look.”

He stared at your figure for a minute before nodding, picking up his book once more and getting comfortable. “Well, if that is all, then I shall return to reading.”

You chuckled quietly at the formality. Turning to go back up the stairs, you caught a glimpse of the wall of the basement. It was barren, completely. That’s weird. You look more, craning your head to gaze more at your surroundings. As you start to properly take in the atmosphere of the basement, it dawns on you. You’ve never fully realized it before, given you haven’t had the opportunity to until now.

Knuckles’ space was lonely. Extremely lonely looking.

There were the essentials, coach, table, bed, even a box tv, but not a whole bunch else. The space lacked any kind of personality or decoration. Almost like a default Sims room. There was nothing there to define it as Knuckles’ own space, completely empty of anything he could call his own. It bothered you.

“Is there something else that needs asking?”

The echidna looks to you, the same inquiring expression as before. Had he even glanced away in the first place, you didn’t know.

You kept your mouth shut as you mentally ran through your options, not wanting to say anything rude. You scolded yourself. Should’ve known better. Knuckles came from a completely different world. Did you think he brought anything with him? He owns nothing. The only exception being his own damn shoes.

You feel you’re at a loss when suddenly, a lightbulb pops in your head. Oh.

You face Knuckles, finally answering. “Hey…” You start, a little nervy for his reaction. “What do you think about going to the store with me?”

He pauses, and looks at you as if you’ve grown another head. “The store?”

You nod.

Without missing a beat, Knuckles was once again, confused. He sat his book down on the coach, sitting up upright. “Why?”

You shrug. “Thought you’d just want to go outside a little. You haven’t done that since you got here.” While it wasn’t lying, it wasn’t telling the truth either.

Knuckles shook his head. “No.” He declined. “I cannot. I am forbidden from leaving the emerald unattended.”

Humming, your feet shifted positions, angling you so you were leaning against the wall. “Aw come on.” You say, halfway between a whine and an exclamation of annoyance. But even still, Knuckles held his ground, a stern frown set on his face. “No. I must turn down your offer.”

You sigh, shoulders slumping.

The echidna notices. “I am sorry.” He turns back to the book that had been resting face down on the coach. “Now… if you’ll excuse me, I will return to the fox’s book…”

Your mouth dropped in the shape of an ‘O’, an idea hitting you at the mention of your mutual friend. “Wait.” You exclaim, regaining Knuckles’ attention. “What if Tails can watch it?”

He starts, brain slowing a little at the discovery of this new information. “...If the fox can act as guardian while I am away?” Repeating the sentence out loud to affirm it, looking to you to see if he had heard it right. You nod, practically on the edge of your seat, waiting for him to carry out his sentence.

“Well,” He starts. “The fox can be trusted,” Knuckles looks deep in thought as he ponders this new option. “I suppose if the hedgehog does not interfere with Tails’ focus then, I guess it is possible.”

That’s all you needed to hear. “It would just be for a matter of hours. Shopping doesn’t take a whole day.”

Knuckles rubs his chin. He contemplates the idea of Tails taking over his position a bit more before he ultimately accepts, not having much reason to say no. “If so,” He makes eye contact with you, purple irises peering into your own a little intense for the circumstance. Yet, Knuckles is Knuckles, and he is determined. He speaks with that same formality he often does, “Then I do accept your offer, Y/N of house L/N.”

Oh yeah, forgot about that.

“It’s just Y/N Knux. I’ve told you that.”

It took about a week to organize you and Knuckles’ little shopping trip. Between your work schedule and Tails’ own experiments, it was somewhat difficult to arrange for him to come over. Yet, you were stubborn, and with some convincing for Knuckles, and reassurances for Tails, you got the fox over for your house. He didn’t need to do much, just keep an eye on the Master Emerald while you all were away. All it took was a quick tour of the house, showing him where the food and utensils were, a quick goodbye and you and the echidna were off.

Knuckles had asked before where you two would be shopping and what you would be shopping for. You did your best to wave him off, telling him what kind of stores you would be going to, but not so much your intention. As vague as it was, he chose not to question any further.

You took Knuckles to a variety of shops, Home Goods, Target, Home Depot. All shared one feature. Decor. Through the limited time you had spent with him, you had learned some things about his world. As confined as your knowledge was, you know it DID NOT look like the plain basement he was currently living in. And though he’d never said otherwise, it wasn’t hard to believe that the echidna could be a little homesick. You would be if you were in his position. You planned on making his home more like a home. Nothing less.

And so, you did. First, you tried looking for larger things. That way you could build a foundation, and work your way up with smaller items. This way, you could also fill up the otherwise empty space. You figured some blankets to make an overhang type thing and the hammock you found in clearance would do nicely.

“These would look really nice in your room, Knux. Whadya think?” You paused, catching yourself, a stutter falling from your lips. “I-I mean if you want to? You don’t have to- of course.”

Knuckles looked up at you. He blinked, eyes widening a slight fraction. You two were the only ones in the aisle.

“So.” He said slowly. “This was your plan?”

“Uh” You eloquently spoke. “Yea?” Reflexively averting your eyes from the echidna, you sweat dropped, waiting for Knuckles to react. How could you face him when he was gazing at you like that?

Though what you assumed was a look of offense, was actually of wonder, and even something of another nature.

Knuckles inhaled, turning toward the bundled up hammock on the rack, picking it up with a gloved hand. The silence was suspenseful. It usually happened this way: Knuckles doing much of his thinking in his own head while you stressed out internally. It would be funny if you didn’t constantly get the short end of the stick.

“Do you pity me?”

You were caught off-guard, head whipping back to the echidna. What? Why would he say that? “I- uh, no?”

He kept his gaze on the hammock as he spoke, each syllable low as he concentrated on saying them correctly. “Is pity the reason you choose to do things like this?

Mouth agape, you truly were lost. To say you had trouble finding words was an understatement. Did he- feel bad? That was the last thing you wanted him to feel.

You take your time choosing your next words, for they could either make or break this moment. “I- listen Knux, look at me? Please?” And so he did, standing a little slouched in comparison to his regular, straight posture. The lavender purple of his eyes had a guarded melancholy to them you had never seen before. Both changes spur you on to reassure your friend while also shake you where you stand. The range was astounding.

You cleared your throat. “N-No, not out of pity per say…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words as Knuckles stood patiently, quietly, never once taking his eyes off you. “I just- the other day when I asked you about the toilet paper? Yeah I uh, I realized how unwelcoming and- plain your space looked and I just felt bad because you didn’t have a single thing a-and I wanted you to feel a home- I know it's probably really hard being launched into a whole new world with nothing but some shoes and I just-”

Knuckles reached out and grasped your hand, gripping it gently appit firmly. It pulled you out of your spiraling ramble. “Slow down.” He urged. “You’re not in a race Y/N, house of-”

“Ok, ok” You laugh a little, giggling at the return of the silly title and wrangling with the fact he had grabbed you in the first place.

You take a breath, inhaling deeply before starting again. “I just- want you to feel comfortable. And, I thought this was a way to do it.”

At that, Knuckles’ features relax, and he looks away, thinking. “I- You are a very kind human.” He concludes, dropping your hand to take a set back from you. “But,” He says, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “I cannot accept this.” He moves to put the hammock back, reaching up to set it back on the shelf.

“Wha- hey! Wait, why?” You half shout, catching his hand and stopping his movement. Though he could easily muscle past you, he chooses to stop with you. “Because,” He defends. “I do not need it.”

You huff. “Well I know that, Winter Soldier.” You go to gently pry the hammock out of Knuckles’ hand. Again, he lets you, though not without a face that screams ‘what are you doing’. “But I want you to have it.”

The warrior detests. “I don’t-”

“Knuckles, bud.” You tenderly cut him off, smiling with a benevolence that you hope conveys your honesty. “I want to do this for you.” You lean forward to pronunciate your sentence, catching eyes with the echidna that widens more and more as you continue to speak. “I don’t mind buying this, or anything else for you.” You shake the item in your hand for emphasis. “Will you let me?”

Knuckles freezes momentarily. You swear you see a hint of pink on what you would consider his cheeks as he somewhat suddenly turns his head away, wrestling with himself and with your proclamation.

“I-” He’s stuck, and he has to give himself a mental kick in the rear to get him going again. “I guess… I would like the hanging blanket.”

You let out a sigh, relieved you both are on the same page. “Awesome.”

After getting most of the larger decorations, you then focus your attention on smaller things. What those smaller things would be is now up to Knuckles, who has grown more open to the whole ordeal as the hours passed. A large variety of things were considered, such as candles and fairy lights, even some abstract art pieces that would be fit for a garden. Though the things that were favored above all, and the things that you kept catching the echidna staring at, were the plants. His eyes would linger on the greenery, especially on some of the more exotic ones. Those didn’t take much convincing to let you buy, the warrior only giving a few words in approval: “This one will do…” “...Possibly this one as well.” It wasn’t hard to tell that Knuckles felt weird doing plant shopping of all things, he’s never done anything like it before. And because of that, you did everything with your power to talk to him, to make this as casual and as pleasant as an experience can be. Normalizing domesticity in one of the most powerful fighters in the galaxy may sound difficult on the surface, but as you two approached the end of your short adventure (store worker looking as flabbergasted at your friend as a person could), you found no trouble at all leading Knuckles to check out at the last shop with your abundance of wildlife greenery, and onto this new kind of life you’ll be sharing with the echidna from now on.

It didn’t take long to set all the decor up back at home. With Knuckles’ help, you all made quick work of it. The hammock came first, finding a secure way to hang the thing was a little tricky, but once you broke out the power tools, installing it went by with a breeze. Same case for the fort. You looked up some ideas on pinterest, but you quickly learned that there is actually some strange red mammal in the house who can make a really rad blanket fort by memory. You’ll have to ask him for advice sometime. As for the plants, the one space was filled right up, the emptiness being replaced with a vibrancy that definitely made you feel welcomed. As for Knux, well, he was happy. You knew it. Even as he tried to keep a straight face as he walked around admiring the hanging plants, which branches gracefully cascaded over the rim of their pots.

“While nothing could ever replace my home,” Knuckles said remorsefully as he adjusted a small potted fern, angling it in the most eye-catching way, “This does make the space feel… different.” He trailed off, looking down as he thought of a history and sentiment not unknown to you.

“A good kind of different?” You ask with a hint of a coy tone.

Knuckles looks at you, your playfulness gone completely over his head. Instead, his face is pleasant, approving in some way. “I think so…” He remarks, words sounding confident to your ears. Though his expression changes to something more reluctant as the next thought pops into his head, slipping out his mouth before he can stop it. “You did not have to provide this…”

It takes a good amount of effort to steel yourself from rolling your eyes in the back of your head. You ‘tsk’ in frustration. “Knux, I know. But I chose to. Understand?”

He nods, though hesitant to fully accept the finer feelings, “Yes... It is a lot like the echidna’s honor code in battle.” Seeing your perplexed face at his random reference, he elaborates. “Even though my tribe held proud independent warriors, we helped our comrades at our own discretion. Whether they wanted the aid or not.”

At that, you made a sound of realization. “Ohhh okay, okay. I get it.” You smile down at your friend, who had seemed satisfied in how his room now appeared. It brought you great joy to see the typically stone-faced tank with a softer, more relaxed look. It gave you the confidence to ask one more borderline teasing question, “See, some things aren’t so different, now are they?”

Once again, the intention passes Knuckles by. “No,” he notes, too preoccupied with his own brain to give back any more of an answer. “No they are not.”

You take no notice, grinning in genuine joy for Knuckles. “Good.”

It's during the most unsuspecting moments in which the most unexpected events take place. Shouldn’t you know that by now?

What the fuck. I should go to the ER. No that’s a stupid idea. What the fuck are they gonna do, put ice on it? I can do that. What the fuck. Well I’ll probably need something more than ice. Ibuprofen? Maybe. A shot? Yeah. What the fuck. Why? Why did they do that? I don’t understand. To me? Why to me? I’m sorry. What the fuck. I’m tired. I wanna go to bed. What if I wait till the morning? Can I sleep like this? I can try. Probably not. What the fuck. Should I call my friends? No they’re probably busy. I can take care of it. What the fuck. Was it really that special? Was it worth that much trouble? I should’ve been more careful. How old was it? I’m sorry. What the fuck. That bitch. What a fucking piece of shit. I’m sorry. What the fuck.

The calculating rationality that most healthy-minded people would have in these situations was lost to you. Sometimes you thought of it as a gift from god himself: the ability to see things in such simplicity that the problem itself never even posed an ounce of a threat. Never in your life have you had that. Though, never in your life have you ever been healthy-minded, so the math kinda works out in a weird, twisted way.

The hole in your chest remained through it all. Never once subsiding in its outrage. It held every emotion possible as it freely expressed them all, only confined to your heart. Unwavering in every roar, it made such a ruckus. If only it felt just as exposed as you did, then maybe it would shut up. Maybe it would silence itself, just as you were now. Instead, you would have to deal with its burden, as well as the aching that started from your forearm, leading up to the triceps of your shoulder.

It was still daytime. The sun had not yet set, though it was about to. The sky’s vast shades of pinks, purples and blues lit up the darkening landscape of the range, the green and the brown of the earth ever so slowly growing into one cool shade of black. The air was as crisp as ever. It felt mocking in how pure it was, untouched by the will of others beyond its reach. It was the only thing pushing you to walk up your own porch’s stairs, for every bone in your body absolutely refuted the idea of entering your home in the condition that you were in. And only because of one thing. One, small thing.

Your melancholy seemed to express itself through the stomp of your shoes on the old wood. Bump bump bump. It was quiet, not wanting to be heard. Though it was, as there were no sounds to go with it besides the giggling of your keys and the distant sounds of crickets coming to life. Though the adrenalin had since worn off, the nerves had not yet seized. You’ve only got through half the battle. And who to say it had even begun in the first place?

The key was a little difficult to find with one hand. With a shaky arm, you plucked it from the batch, loudly shaking it to rid it of its neighbors. It was slotted in with a good push. You didn't have much trouble turning it. It was with a weighted heart you entered the house, stepping one foot, and then the other past the threshold, the door letting out a loud creak to welcome you home. You didn’t appreciate it. Just as quickly as you were cleared, you gripped the edge roughly, firmly shutting the door back up, locking it, therefore silencing it, for the night.

The house was just as quiet. The thunk of the shut door echoed through the house, disturbing the void. You found yourself unwilling to move forward. The feeling in your heart didn’t want you to. It weighed you down to the floor, outright sticking the soles of your feet to the carpet of the doormat. If it wasn’t for the consistency of your arm’s pain, it was possible you would’ve been standing there all night. It keeps you motivated, reminding you of its presence with every throb.

You toe’d your shoes off where you stood, setting the keys down softly onto the table beside it. Eyeing the kitchen sink that was visible from the door, you padded towards it quietly, evading any spots prone to creek. One by the TV, another by the dividing wall, another by the knife drawer. You subconsciously counted them whilst listening to your quiet feet step one, after the other, after the other.

You nudged the water on with your elbow, the liquid coming out the tab in an easy trickle. Putting your hand under the stream, you felt the water for its temperature. You found it was tolerably lukewarm. That should be fine. Muscling the appendage up from its hanging position below the counter, you bent your arm at the elbow, angling your forearm to get the brunt of the water’s force. You winced when it made contact. It wasn’t pleasant at all. As soothing as it should feel, the area was still sensitive, even to the gentle stream. You watched uneasily as the sink was turned a maroon, the red coloring the once clear liquid. From there, you started to gently rinse off the wound, trying to wash away the blood that had since dried and scabbed over. It was a tedious and aggravating task. The blood was stubborn. You had to really scrub to get it to leave, irritating both you and your skin. You started using some of your fingernails when you became impatient, ignoring the pain that came with it. Anxiety started to bubble within you the longer you stood there, the old clock in the living room doing nothing to ease your nerves as it boldly ticked away. Tick tick tick. You swear this was sabotage. Karma has come to get you. If only this would go faster, then maybe you wouldn’t be out in the open so-

“You’ve returned early.”

Whatever you ate from lunch that day immediately tripled in weight, making your stomach drop at the sound of his voice. You stopped rubbing at your arm, freezing the movement entirely. Your posture went rigid, though you tried masking it with a shift in your stance. You refused to turn around to face him. You couldn’t. Not now, not here. You wouldn't risk it. You didn’t trust your poker face at this moment, which was too caught up in showing you trying to figure out a response that remained calm.

You let out a humorless chuckle. It was so unnatural and disingenuous it made you cringe. Not dissimilar to nails on a chalkboard. “Ha ha yeah, we uh- finished up pretty quickly.” You say this while still facing the sink. Though you were no actor, you felt comfortable resuming your washing, this time slowing down with slower, more deliberate strokes as to appear with a facade of calmness.

“I suppose that is good.” Knuckles shrugs as he says, “Based on what you said before you departed.” He begins to walk closer and off to the right, edging his way to your side, unaware of the person on the edge of a mental breakdown right in front of him. Hearing his footsteps grow nearer, you shift your weight to ensure your back is to the echidna, even as he tries to change that. It almost makes you forget what he had just said, not expecting the remark. “Oh- uh, right.” You say, feigning an agreeing attitude.

You recall the event. You loosely remember telling Knuckles you were heading out. When he asked you why, you didn’t want to lie to him. Poor guy has already had enough of that happen to him. So you told him the truth, adapt a vague version of it. “Just something I promised I’d help someone do. Ha ha… I mean, I don’t really want to, but I’d better.” He watched you leave, silently questioned your weird act as you begrudgingly gathered your things. Yet he knew the importance of promises, he himself taking them very seriously. So he let you go without much fuss, despite the twinge of suspicion in the back of his mind.

He seemed to be satisfied with the closed proximity. About 5 feet away from what you could tell just from your hearing. The sound of the water running still remained in the air, serving as the white noise to this one-sided conversation. You couldn’t even imagine how sore your jaw would be after this from how hard you’ve been clenched it. The emptiness laughed at you as the seconds ticked by. What you wouldn’t give to just seal it away, to just find some semblance of peace, to just be and exist normal in this moment without having to breathe fucking manually just to appear fine.

“How did it go?” Knuckles asked, taking up the mantle as the conversation starter. You would have room to think ‘hey he’s not so bad at it’ if you weren’t a little busy. Yet as it all things go, busy turns into anxiety, anxiety turns into panic, and panic turns into bad. Fucking. Choices.

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Now why did you say that?

You could feel your face flare up with heat. Out of fear or anger, you couldn’t know. The only thing you did know, was the suffocating sound of silence that followed. It was so loud. You stopped your scrubbing a little bit ago.

“What are you doing?”

Fuck.

You hear the question, but not really. It’s odd coming from the warrior, you think. Though you don’t really think as you have to figure out something, and fast.

“U-uh, dishes.”

You spit it out before you really have a chance to think about it. You’re proud for a half-second at your white lie, but the celebration is short-lived when your insides move in sickening ways for the second time while in the conversation.

“I’ve already done them. There are none.”

Fuck.

The silence finds some way to be worse than before. It’s brutal. Never ending its assault on your hammering heart, and never yielding to the vulnerability of your mind. Oh my god could you please just-

“Is there something-“

“…”

“What is on your arm?”

FUCK.

The dread is immense. The impending doom of that singular question is incredible. All senses are blocked from you like a deer in headlights, unable to make out the true meaning of the ask. The hole in your chest becomes invigorated in its bloodlust, your own panic spurring it on to mobilize it while also paralyzing you.

“It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it is.” You miss the way he says it. It’s calming, concerned. His eyes are careful. A completely opposite force to you. But it all completely passes you by in the current state you are in.

He takes a set forward, just one. You recoil, just enough for the echidna to notice. He doesn’t take another one as he continues to speak clearly, yet deeply and seriously. It doesn’t help ease you much at all.

“Let me see.” It's more of a demand than a request. It makes you shrink back, lip curled down in displeasure. You knew he meant no harm, but it doesn’t stop the back of your mind from taking it in a negative connotation.

“No! It-It's fine!” You grasp your injured arm, still futilely trying to keep it out of sight from Knuckles. Your heart beats away in your chest, boiling like a pot of hot water about to spill over. You’re scared, you realize that now. Of what, you haven’t got to that part yet.

He takes another step, undeterred by your protests, which spur him on further. “No, it is not.” He reaches a hand up, open and waiting to grasp yours.

“I’m fine. Knux, really.” You stress, your voice becomes wobbly as do you. “It’s o-ok, just-“

“No.” The echidna says, the tone he uses sounds final, yet soothingly firm. It makes you stop your panic, just a little. Every word that comes next feels like magic, doing almost supernatural things to your head to make you hear them, to really hear them, for what they are. Each is punctuated with a softness unlike anything your friend had ever used before.

“Y/N, let me see your arm.”

“Please.”

You stop. Taking a deep breath in, you take your time to let it back out. It allows you to see things the way they actually are. There, Knuckles stands. Arm raised, palm open. His stance is mostly relaxed, though if you look closer, a hint of anxiety is there. His eyes were kind, sympathetic, the crease of his eye wrinkled with a stress you’ve never seen from him. In battle it was a harder line, strengthened with anger and determination. Here it was nothing like that. It was fragile, gentle, and even looked painful to wear for long.

Moved by the look, you evaluate yourself as you were. As defensive as you are now, in hindsight, what were you defending against?

Slowly, you ease up. You wordlessly turn to face him, and without much thought, you lower your arm down and away from your body, and towards Knuckles’ awaiting hand. He takes it, tenderly turning it over to look at what he had seen a glimpse of before.

He freezes. His eyes widen, jaw literally dropping at what he’s seeing. Yet, he doesn’t say a thing. He’s just as frozen as you were a minute ago. Like a statue he just stands there, not moving an inch as all thoughts and movement cease. It makes you sweat, not doing much to quell your aching heart.

He doesn’t make eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on the sight of your arm before him. The quills on the back of his head and around his face start to raise, puffing out his features to make them appear larger. It seems as if he has a hard time saying it himself, as he grits out the question. Finally, he speaks. His eyes narrow, brow furrowing downward at his own word.

“Who?”

Though it was only one word, it didn’t fail in striking trepidation through your heart. You’re silent as the question hangs in the air, awaiting an answer that you never planned on giving.

But Knuckles still wants it, so he asks again.

“It was them… Wasn’t it?”

His voice lowers as he utters the phrase, even as he tries to keep an even tone. His anger builds as the seconds of silence tick by, seconds that do not deny the question. His mouth contorts at the ongrowing outrage, curling down into a snarl. Even he, who knows the repercussions of not keeping your anger under control, cannot stop the blooming, burning feeling so deep in his gut that it makes everything he’s ever said about remaining calm sound like a lie.

And without a response from you, there's nothing to stop the echidna’s rage.

Suddenly, and without warning, Knuckles drops your arm, which you pull back to you to hold. Then, he just… walks away, wasting no time at all as he makes determined strides to the front door. He’s mumbling words as he goes. If you listen closely, you could hear the more punctuated ones, such as ‘coward’, or ‘unworthy’.

“H-hey!” You stutter out, tripping over your own feet as you try going after Knuckles. “What are you doing?”

“Going to go deal with the problem.” He grumbles, making the situation sound oh-so simple. He’s halfway to the exit at this point.

“Hey wait!” You try again, “Where are you going?? I didn’t tell you where I went.” You take more steps to the door, not covering near enough ground to catch up with him.

“I’ll find them.” Knuckles flat out growls, getting increasingly agitated by the second. His fists tighten into intimating weapons of pure strength, just itching to get one good hit in.

An image plays over and over in his head. You, face pale at his discovery of your bleeding arm, the very real fear that showed in your body language. It angered him. Greatly.

He’s about to reach for the door handle before your feet catch up with your thoughts, legs propelling you forward. Your head spins at the possibility of Knuckles facing those responsible. That is the literal opposite of what you wanted. The thought of it alone is what gets you going faster.

“Don’t!” You shout, grabbing his shoulder to stop him from going any further. “Please don’t.”

“And why not?!” He yells right back, whipping himself around to fully face you. He sheered as he spoke, a grumble to his voice that made him appear more frightening than what he truly was. He used a booming voice that conveyed all of his frustrations pretty clearly. “They need to pay.”

“I-I know- just,” You take a minute to rub your hand down your face, already at your stress limit.

Knuckles interrupts, unable to contain himself at what seems to him is your level of complacency. “It is inexcusable!!” He roars, refusing to back down. “I will not stand for it.” He tried once more to leave, turning away from you. You stop him again, overcome with your own anxiety. You feel the incessant need to fiddle with your hands as you put your foot down.

“I KNOW!” Your scream catches both you and Knuckles off-guard. The house becomes eerily quiet with the lack of noise, the sounds of the pipes and utilities on the edges of their seats as they watch on. You were never one to get aggressive to those you cared for, but desperate times call for desperate measures. And yes, you were, in fact, desperate. Your abdomen cramps, making it harder and harder to sooth the situation like you normally could if you weren’t so caught up in your own head. Your breaths are heavy, holding the weight of everything you have done and said up until this point. You’re sure your lungs are willfully unprepared to take up the burden of what you plan on saying next.

You soon discover you’re right.

“I know-w” you pant, shoulders crumpling in on the rest of your body. “Just pl-please, please dontgo, I donwanna-” It suddenly gets harder to speak, your throat constricting around itself, preventing the words from escaping you. Even it doesn’t want you to sound weak. “I-I’m sorry…”

At this point, you’re at the end of your rope. You were frightened. Of what Knuckles could do, what they could do, what you would do… it all ran through your mind at a million miles an hour. You haven't even begun to rationalize with yourself the event that got you in this mess in the first place, and it was starting to catch up to you. You simply did not have the mental capacity to process all that it happened. And it showed on your face, lines of worry etched into what used to be smooth features. And suddenly you seem much, much older, The sheer pressure adding decades of age, your bones turning frail, matching the vulnerability of your headspace. Your eyes lowered to the ground, head drooping, ashamed of what you feel and afraid of what you've become because of it.

And Knuckles finally sees it all.

The echidna’s own worry lines grow at the realization, his own chest tightening at the sight of you. It’s a strange thing to him, a feeling he had trouble recognizing at first, seemingly forgotten from his younger days with his father. It confused him, and he didn’t exactly have anything to compare it to. How was the battle-hardened echidna supposed to know what it was? Yet with the help of his new family providing guidance and remaining patient, he was eventually able to figure it out, though only roughly. What he did discover, however, is that it often came with his anger.

He was worried. So, so worried.

And that scared him.

He didn’t like feeling worried, not one bit. He detested the idea of him being worried the moment he comprehended he was. Knuckles the Echidna, worried? How ridiculous. It was a weak emotion, he thought at first. It would slow him down, make him vulnerable, and even, worst comes to worst, allow for him to get taken advantage of again. That’s what he told himself, at least.

When he saw your arm, he felt his worry come at full force. It struck through his heart, piercing it with a sharp, clean cut. What he left out of his explanation for his dislike of worry, was the deeper meaning that had apparently escaped all he knew, even his closest friends.

It was the fact that his worry reminded him of everything he had failed to do. Every promise he broke, every vow he made to nobody but himself yet did not hold true. And even then, as he realized the how and the who to the backstory of your injuries, he failed again, once more not delivering on a promise he made to himself: to protect his protector. And oh, did it anger him. It angered him so much. To fail at such an extent, it was downright shameful.

It was easy for the madness to take hold, he often let it. And he did. He let his anger control him when he found your blood exposed to the elements, your skin inflicted with a bruise the size of a baseball. It coursed through his veins at an insane rate, setting his mind into overdrive, acting as a catalyst to every negative image that crossed his mind. A spark ignited within him, the flame erupting within his chest, the flame of revenge. “How dare they? How could they? You?! Of all people to attack? How weak, how pathetic. How dishonorable.”

And in that instance, he remembered his promise, and sought it out to hold it true, by whatever means necessary. It would be easy for him. Light work even, and he would definitely get immense satisfaction in absolutely pummeling your enemies. You wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

Though easy does not mean right. And as much as he would find gratification in solving this problem for you, your health took precedence over everything. Even this. He knew that, it just took him a minute to fully remember. Your eyes sure helped, pleading, watery, bloodshot from stress, it all came together in a heartbroken concoction, like a liquid potion ready to persuade its victim of anything. And he had fallen for it, though willingly. It wasn’t hard, you were you after all.

He takes a deep breath to settle that smoldering fire within him. “Okay.” He speaks within a new tenderness that does wonders to calm your racing heart. “I won’t go anywhere, nor do anything.”

He grasps your arm carefully, beginning to lead you to the couch nearby. “Come,” he says “let's sit you down. Your wound needs treatment.”

You nod absentmindedly, not exactly understanding, but doing so nonetheless. You follow him one step at a time as you take your seat, Knuckles leading you down all the while. His touch isn’t something many would expect from the tough echidna. It was gentle, delicate, like a soothing balm to cover the sores on your soul. “Stay.” He spoke in a whisper, “I will return with the box of aid.”

“First aid?” You joke weakly, voice cracking with the effort.

Knuckles is either unaware of the gag, or chooses not to react. “Yes, that.”

Without another word, he quickly dashes away, returning just as fast with the kit in hand.

It took some mumbled guidance from you for the echidna to understand what to do. Though that was understandable, since the guy has never had to use the first aid kit before.

He was uncharacteristically careful in how he treated your wound. Every time the pads of his fingers brushed against your skin, it was gentle, almost feather-like. Especially around the mangled tissue of your injury. Here, Knuckles’ touch was that of a ghost. There, but not really. Its presence was felt, surely, though not nearly enough for your senses to pick it up as something harmful. You could confidently say the warrior had not caused you any excess pain. Which was already monumentally better than you.

It was quiet as he worked. It was somewhere between a comfortable and uncomfortable silence. It was hard to tell which. So many things remained questioned, so many things remain unsaid. What could you say? What good will an explanation do? Well, some obviously. You of course knew that. It was still hard though, to say the truth. Even if you’ve known it for years.

As rough as you were, the wound was clean of any dried blood or debris. Knuckles knew as well, and went straight to wrapping it up. Placing a sterile absorbent pad on the bruise he secured it with some medical tape, which he probably used an excessive amount of. But you chose not to say anything. He also examined your bruise on your forearm, though decided there wasn’t much to be done about that. However, it didn’t stop him from putting a bandaid on the area. Again, you let it slide.

Knuckles quickly gathered up the supplies he had gotten from the kit, putting them back in the box haphazardly. I’ll fix it later, you thought to yourself.

The warrior chose to sit by your side about a foot apart from you. Not too close, not too far. He held his tongue for a minute, eyes kept trained on the floor beneath the both of you. Perhaps waiting for you to speak first, perhaps muddling over the same thing you were. It was not easy for anyone to read the echidna’s mind, not unless Knuckles himself said his thoughts aloud.

Which he often did.

“How come you didn’t tell me of this?” He spoke the question in a whisper, matching the delicate atmosphere with the tone of his voice. He looked to face you, eyes missing their usual luster of purple. You hated to be the cause of such a loss.

You had to think for a second. You yourself didn’t know the answer to such an ask, even though you would be the one person who would. You fidgeted with your fingers, picking at the skin of them as your mind twisted and turned. It took several more moments before you could come up with a conceivable answer, one at least an outsider could begin to understand.

“I… I didn’t know what to do.” You started. Knuckles sat to your right, as patient as ever, gloved hands propped up on the coach, which straightened his posture to attention.

You continue as best you could, “I guess- I mean, I think I wanted to handle it?” It comes out in the question, not sure of yourself in the slightest.

“Why?” Knuckles butts in, quick to question the decision. His brows furrowed in confusion, genuinely not understanding.

“Why?” You say back, parrot-like. “Uh-h…” You had to think to yourself again. It’s astonishing how so much over thinking can go right down the drain when you need your excessive ideas the most. “Because uhh, I mean it’s my thing isn’t it?”

The echidna’s face doesn’t change, still frozen in trying to figure out what you mean, and it shows on his face. So you try again. “It’s… my responsibility.”

A deep frown spreads across Knuckles’ face, painting his features in a disapproving way. “Your responsibility?” He repeats. You nod meekly, taking hold of your injured arm to cradle it, still not knowing what to do with your hands.

Closing his eyes, Knuckles huffs out a breath. He stands, pushing himself off the coach in a smooth motion. Your heart jumps at the thought of him walking away and leaving you there alone, but the muscle soon calms to see him turn to face you, coming to stand before you. There you two are level. It's truly one of the only scenarios in which the both of you can see eye to eye, when the warrior can peer right into your eyes without having to look up or down. Just maybe, he chose this on purpose.

Knuckles reach down to your lap, oh so gingerly taking your arm into his hands to hold, looking at the bandaged injury whilst he says his piece, the smoothness of his voice just barely echoing through the home. “My father was a kind soul” he breathes out, “yet he had a habit of keeping the burdens that weighed on him all to himself.”

Your eyes grew wide at the mention of Knuckles’ kin. He’s talked about them before, though this is definitely the most personal it's ever gotten.

“You remind me of him in this way” He looks up to you, eyes with a hazy focus, thumb brushing against the cotton of your bandage softly. “A protector that refuses to be protected.”

The silence is deafening as the two of you contemplate what has just been said. You more so. You’re shocked to say the least. The sentiment of Knuckles comparing you to his own father, someone he loves and respects extensively is… overwhelming. The weight of it seems to help ease your nervousness.

“What role do you think I play in this tribe?” Knuckles asks, titling his head down to try to make eye contact with you. It kind of works, coaxing your own up to face him as well.

“Uh” You stumble, “A guardian?”

Knuckles does the echidna equivalent of a ‘uh huh’. “Yes. I am a guardian.” He continues, “What of the hedgehog and his fox friend?”

You look up to the ceiling, it now appears much more appealing as you think of a response. “Well they’re kind of protectors too.”

Knuckles nods, asking one more time “And Maddie and Tom?”

You’re on a roll, now feeling more comfortable looking Knuckles in the eyes. “Them too.”

“Right.” He says, satisfied. “In our tribe, we all have the role of guardian. And so, we all protect. Especially each other.”

Now you see where this is going. “Knux, I’m not sure if I-”

He interrupts. “Whatever you are about to say- it is wrong.”

“Knux I-”

“No. Wrong.”

“But I-”

“No.”

You give up, giving in to the echidna’s game. You swear you can see a twinge of a smile start to creep onto his face.

“But if I may,” He adds, voice suddenly becoming dimmer as he breaks eye contact to look back at your arm. “I do think there is one difference among us.”

“In what?”

Knuckles takes a breath, seemingly randomly getting anxious. You can’t fathom why. “As a guardian, I am meant to treat all I protect equally.” You nod, agreeing but not getting the point. “Though I do not.”

He slid his hands down to grip your own, head lifting to let his eyes peer into yours unwaveringly. They look to be dripping with his usual determination, along with something else you couldn’t place. Something kinder, something sweeter. “Though each of us were guardians,” he pauses, thinking for a moment “you have had a different duty ever since the EggMan’s defeat.”

You blink, trying to follow as best you can. Knuckles continues, “Your duty is dangerous. Fragile as humans are, I was surprised when you took up the task. It requires constant vigilance, not many could keep it up for long.”

His hands tighten around yours, squeezing momentarily before easing up. Perhaps a reminder for himself. The urge to squeeze back comes and goes. “I have since then grown a respect for you unmatched by any other. Both because of that, and because of your character.”

His pause invokes a special importance, pulling you in. It was captivating, doing its job in changing the atmosphere only slightly. “You are precious to me, as I have grown to know you. More so than the other members of our tribe.”

Your eyes widen, not expecting such a declaration. You have to keep your mouth from opening in shock.

Unperturbed, the warrior continues. The fiercest of his eyes growing with every passing moment. His grip becomes impossibly more gentle, every callous he ever had suddenly disappearing. “Though my focus does lie with the master emerald, it is you that keeps my attention and company Y/N, not any gem or jewel.”

“I don’t know why you would think that.” You blurred out, too caught off guard to think to hold back.

Knuckles takes it in stride, once again taking a breath, wanting to speak as clearly as possible. The effort from keeping his cool shows on his face, a little scrunched with the strain. He leans in to emphasize his next words, yearning to have you understand him. “I do.”

The staticky fog in your mind doesn’t seem so intense anymore.

“You have commendable bravery, and a personality unlike any other. Attributes I now hold dear.” Knuckles returns your hands to your lap, taking the opportunity to straighten the fabric of your shirt, which has since been crooked. The neckline is quickly fixed back into its usual spot with a quick tug upward, letting it fall back into position naturally. He now spoke with a more annoyed tone than before. It would’ve alarmed you about 5 minutes ago, though now you’ve calmed, and know the warrior doesn’t point such frustrations to you, but to the third party in question. “Which is why it pains me to see you overwhelmed in this way. Especially by those who are meant to be closest.”

You worry your palms, growing tired at the lack of things you can actually answer. “I’m sorry” You whisper, “I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright” Knuckles whispers back, in a way that differs from your own. A way that makes your thoughts coherent. That actually helps you understand that he's telling the truth. “I don’t know much of troubles such as this… but I do know they can be complex to you.”

He rolls his shoulders, instinctively resetting his posture. “But to me?” He shrugs, “Not so much.”

That earns a watery chuckle from you.

The air feels tired, almost rung out of all energy it had. It’s breathable now, and it lets you digest everything, lets the both of you take a moment to grasp with the gravity of the situation. Lets Knuckles figure out what to say next.

“I want you to make a promise.” He speaks, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a huff.

“What kind?”

“My kind.” He responds.

You sit up straight, a little confused. Knuckles takes it as a signal to proceed.

“I want you to promise to ask for my aid if something like this were to happen again.”

You furrow your brow. “Knux, I don’t think I can-”

“Let me restate that.” He rehashes, cutting you off. “I want you to promise to try to ask for my help.”

You bite your lip, looking off to the side in contemplation. Could you? Realistically. It surely was a difficult question to answer, especially with every little negative thought poking into your brain to tell you no. If this question had been asked before, you probably would have said yes just in passing. It would be easy to say yes, just to get the question over with. But now, as you hold the spotlight, you can't lie. Not to him, not right now. It's neither the time nor place. And you don’t think it ever will be.

But as you look at Knuckles now and into his stupidly sweet lavender gaze of his, your true answer starts to become more and more real. Him and that worried look of his does wonders in helping to encourage you to make that leap, to take that chance that you never knew you would be taking. It's so strange, you think, he could do anything, as mountainous as destroying death robots, or as simple as baking a cake with you on a Sunday morning, and it would all still come together into the nice little package of ‘good’ he had to offer. Nothing changed with him, even now, as that same sense of good comes in clutch to hull you away from your enemies and take on the burden instead of you. An honor like that is impossible to find, and irreplaceable once tossed away. You better remember that Y/N.

And that's when your answer becomes clear. Something so profound and special, so kind and gentle, will never be forgotten or taken for granted if you have any say in it. And it will never shake, nor ever waiver. You have a promise to uphold, and you intend to keep it. As a protector, as the protected, and as a roommate.

#rhaz’s works #sonic the hedgehog x reader #knuckles x reader #knuckles the echidna x reader #knuckles fluff #knuckles the echidna fluff #knuckles x reader fluff #sonic the hedgehog fluff #sonic x reader #sonic fluff #sonic fic #knuckles fic #movie knuckles

707 notes · View notes

totally-a-different-person · 2 months

Note

Could you do future tomxtordxedd?

Sure why not, also I'm only just realizing this now that I've finished it but I should stop writing smuts that take place in red leader's office, I don't know why it's like my brain's go to every time he's mentioned (nsft past this ploint proceed at your own risk)

Edd scoffed, leaning back "you're kidding." It was an accusation, not a guess. "Why in the world would I ever want to stay with you?" "Because it's that or prison, Edd."

He sounded frustrated, and desperate "I just- I don't understand why we even have to have this debate" the norsk opened his hands, but Edd just rolled his eyes "You're too dangerous to let go, you know that, but please don't make me lock you up. You could rule with me, by my side, imagine the power you'd have, don't you want that?"

"No, Tord... I don't" He looked away, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He didn't even want to make eye contact with Tom. Edd thought he had been killed when he was captured, but he was just like his secretary or something?? Is that what Tord wanted him to do too?

He just didn't understand why Tom wouldn't try to find a way to contact him, or escape, just anything. Tord sighed, putting his hands together again and sitting back in his seat. "Please don't be like this, what can I do to convince you? You can have all the cola you want, you don't have to participate in any of the army stuff if you don't want to"

Edd glared at the ground, no longer really crossing his arms but hugging himself now. Tord was obviously beginning to get frustrated looking at Tom as if asking if he knew what to do. So finally, the tallest of the three did speak up "Ringo can come, and she'll be kept completely safe" "of course! I would never let anything happen to her-"

"I don't want her anywhere near you! She's not coming, and neither am I." Tord threw his arms up "you would rather go to prison than have to work with me!? Even if it meant you could live like a king, you don't care??" Edd felt tears starting to well up in his eyes, quickly squeezing them shut and shaking his head.

Tom seemed to wilt slightly at this, frowning softly and taking a few steps toward Edd and gently putting a hand on his shoulder "hey-" "I just- I don't understand how you can expect me to after everything" his voice cracked slightly. Even after all this time it still felt the exact same to be comforted by Tom as it always had, and for a moment Edd totally forgot he was upset with him too.

"I know it's a lot, and I'm really sorry it has to be like this, Tord's been trying to keep you from getting hurt since he started all of this though, and you keep almost dying because you won't stop fighting back. I told him I wouldn't let him lock you up- but if it's between that or you getting killed I don't have much of a choice" he spoke softly, his voice was a little more horse than it used to be but it was always a bit raspy.

Edd huffed and leaned away from him "You never should have joined him in the first place, I wouldn't be in so much danger all the time if I wasn't alone" he retorted, sort of snapping, but he still just looked sad, and Tom couldn't bring himself to be angry.

"Edd I'm so sorry" he hugged him, which was sort of a surprise, Edd had known the other since sixth grade and could count the number of proper willing hugs from him on one hand. That could have been part of why he was so quick to melt into it, hugging back and burying his face in Tom's shoulder as he sniffled. That or the fact that it was one the first actual conversations they'd had since he left.

Tord watched in silence for another few seconds while Tom squeezed the little brit, letting him cry. "You understand that we just don't want anything bad to happen to you, will you please come with us?" He went out of his way to include Tom that time, since Edd seemed to want him back so bad.

The demon moved away from the hug only by a step so he could speak "I... I don't know..." He seemed very hesitant, but that was still much better than before, and now Tord had an idea.

He got up and came around the desk and Tom took another step back from him so he was just looking at Tord.

"Come here, how about this, ok?" He sort of guided him to stand next to his desk. Edd seemed confused, and even slightly hesitant to let Tord touch him when the man gently grabbed his arm.

At least he used his human one, Edd couldn't help but be relieved. He still wasn't used to the robot one. While he was in thought about that though, Tord simply leaned down to kiss him like it was totally normal and something they had done a million times before. It wasn't though, so obviously Edd was startled and quickly leaned back, but effectively pinned himself between Tord and the desk when the leader just took a step closer as well.

The artist's face was bright red, staring up at him confused and considerably shaken up "what are you doing??" He asked, voice cracking slightly. "Ah, perhaps I should have been more clear"

He said that, but in truth his actions were all very intentional. "If you stayed with us, you could act as our husband, and you wouldn't have to worry about anything else. That would be your job, and I'd do everything in my power, which is just about everything" there was a sort of sick twist to his grin as he said that part "to make you happy here and get you whatever you want"

He leaned in again, not kissing him but getting very close. Edd seemed very very taken back by this. He looked from Tord to Tom, who didn't seem phased. His whole face was bright red and he looked away from them. This was weird... Wrong. He shouldn't be actually considering this, not after everything.

He was just tired, that had to be it. He was so exhausted, the idea of giving in was starting to appeal to him. "You wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore, we'd take care of everything. Wouldn't it be nice to relax?" It was as if Tord had read his mind, gently taking Edd's chin and making him look into his eyes. The shorter blushed deeper, playing with his hands a bit.

"I-I mean... Of course, but I'm not sure..." He mumbled, averting his eyes. Tord smirked a bit "that's fine Edd, how about I show you what it'll be like, and then you can decide?" He placed the robot hand on Edd's hip and glanced back at Tom who nodded.

The brunette seemed a little surprised, cheeks burning deep scarlet "ah... I guess" he spoke softly and Tord grinned "fantastic" he kissed Edd again, moving his hand to cup the boys cheek which was slightly more affectionate than holding his chin.

Edd still seemed sort of hesitant, at first he did at least, though soon slowly melted into it. His lips were so soft, they tasted like cola and cherry chapstick, it was adorable and honestly Tord already wanted to bite and bruise them, but he had to be very careful with how he went about this. So he would wait.

The kiss slowly became heated, Tord pushing his tongue into the boy's mouth and tilting his head slightly as Edd grabbed the desk behind him with one hand, the other holding onto Red Leader's jacket. He was admittedly a little taken back, having thought it would be a simple kiss. He wasn't surprised though, it was Tord after all, he shouldn't have expected anything less. He was more surprised by how good he was, really, the sweet kiss almost left him light headed.

After just another moment Edd would have to pull away, taking a few shaking breaths as he looked away, face bright red. It was embarrassing how much he enjoyed that, the metal hand holding him only slightly tighter as Tord looked to Tom, nodding to the other side of the desk then turned his attention back to Edd, mumbling "come here" as he scooped him up, much to his surprise.

"Hey!-" "Relax." He set him on the desk "Just thought this would be easier if you were a little closer in height, you haven't exactly grown much since I last saw you" the norsk teased with a dark chuckle, pushing some of the papers off of his desk.

Edd blushed a bit and glared at him "well you haven't either, you just started wearing platform boots" he spat back and it actually seemed to strike a bit of a nerve, Tom trying to stifle his own laughter as he gently helped Edd slip his overcoat off.

Tord sighed, his expression of mild annoyance fading as ran his hands up under Edd's sweater, the boy flinching at the cold metal against his soft warm flesh, causing him to shiver a bit, getting goosebumps. Tom leaned in to gently kiss his neck, letting his teeth graze the skin as Edd gasped softly. He hadn't expected it but seemed absolutely fine with it, leaning back slightly to press against him a little better.

Tord watched with a little smirk, the brunette helping a bit as Tord took his sweater off as well as his shirt, just letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud. As Edd was focused on the fact that Tord was letting the robot hand fall lower, down to between his legs. But Tom took advantage of his guard being down and bit into his neck with his abnormally sharp teeth, earning a gorgeous noise that was somewhere between a squeal and a moan.

He was quick to cover his mouth, whole face bright red. Tord laughed and gently moved his hand away, Edd whining a bit. "no no" the taller spoke softly, smirking as he switched the vibrating function in his hand on, which honestly seemed to startle both the other two. He grinned proudly.

"Pretty cool yeah?" Chuckling as he rubbed and palmed Edd's number through his pants, watching him fall apart so quickly, desperately grabbing onto Tom's arms while the man continued kissing and nibbling his neck, licking the fresh bite marks as the sub gave a high pitched moan.

"Wha-what is-" he choked, looking at Tord in confusion and the man just hummed, using his other hand to unzip the boy's pants so he didn't have to stop rubbing him "yeah, made this thing myself and thought it might come in handy" he said it like it was the most simple thing in the world, slipping it into his pants to stroke his member directly, as well as turning the vibrating higher.

Edd gave a loud, broken moan and hid his face in Tord's shoulder. Tom rubbed his sides in a comforting manner as he completely slipped his bottoms off, letting them fall as well leaving the brunette naked. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself though, spreading his legs some and trying to rock his hips into Tord's hand as he panted and moaned.

"That's a good boy~" the younger coed as he continued to pleasure his friend, looking down at him lovingly before his eye flicked up to Tom as the man opened up his drawer, getting one of the small bottles of lube the leader kept.

Tord hummed softly and looked back to Edd "hey, I need you to tilt your hips up a bit for me kjæreste" he whispered, watching as the artist took his face from his shoulder, clearly trying to not make as much noise as he had been but Tord wasn't exactly giving him a break. He did as he was told, making it much easier for Tom to access his hole, said man opening the bottle of lubricant as they spoke. "Like that...?"

Tord nodded and kissed his head "yes that's perfect, such a good boy for me" he purred giving his member a little squeeze and turning the intensity of the vibrating up again for a good few seconds as he rubbed the tip with his thumb as a reward for being so obedient.

Edd moaned out loudly as he did, leaning back into Tom and nuzzling into his neck with a whine. He was starting to get close to his first orgasm.

Tom chuckled softly, his eye lights mostly focused on the sweet little brunette's face as it contorted in bliss while he gently pushed two of his now lubed up fingers inside of him, pressing against his walls as he slowly pumped them in and out. The cola lover gave a light gasp before biting his lip to muffle a sweet moan.

Edd was making nonstop noises, slowly increasing in volume and pitch as he continued receiving so much attention, his hips occasionally bucking or twitching, Tom adding another finger. Tord realized he was getting close, and honestly part of him was very very tempted to stop, make him beg for the right to cum, but he had to be patient. Play the long game.

This was about giving Edd exactly what he wanted and making him want to stay. So once he was more comfortable, he could indulge the part of Edd that loved being controlled and dominated, but so much had changed and even if he knew that was still what Edd wanted deep down, he didn't want to try too soon and scare him off.

So he settled for something safer and just as effective in terms of melting the sub's brain. He leaned in to kiss his cheek before nibbling his on his ear a bit, electing a soft shaking breath from Edd, then whispered "go on vakker, I know your close, be a good boy and cum for me~" the leader spoke very sweetly.

He wondered briefly in the back of his mind how many orgasms Edd could take, as well as how many it would take for him to break and want to stay. Hopefully he could find the answers to both very soon.

His words had the exact effect on Edd that he hoped they would, the boy giving a broken whine, shutting his eyes tight and melting into Tom. Tom let him, rubbing his hip sweetly while his other hand pressed into the brit's prostate with three fingers causing him to jolt and cry out as he came on Tord's hand, panting and mewling softly before being kissed again by red.

This time there was no hesitation in kissing back, holding onto his shit tighter he did, feeling the metal hand switch off and let him go. Edd panted softly as the kiss broke, again leaning back against Tom. "You ready dove?" Tom asked softly, eye lights gazing down at him as he nodded pretty quickly.

He kissed the brunette's cheek as he took his fingers back, having him spread his legs as Tord took his belt off. He dropped it and slipped his own jacket off before unzipping his black jeans and taking his already hard dick into his hand, pressing it gently against Edd's hole, watching the sub flush bright red. "Let me know if you need me to stop or slow down, ok?" He whispered softly, Edd nodding in response.

It was sort of embarrassing how quickly he'd fallen victim to their advances, he hadn't meant to at all. It had just... Been a long time since someone else had touched him, he was... Sensitive. It felt so nice, he was ashamed thinking about it, but he couldn't deny that he really really wanted this.

Tord was honestly a little bigger than Edd would've guessed, having to bite his lip a little as it was pushed inside of him, wincing quietly and trying his best to relax. It felt so good to be filled through, even with the slight stretch, he was panting and whining as it pushed deeper.

Tord didn't waste a second, he did initially push inside pretty slow but didn't even slip the whole thing in before pulling back and starting to thrust in and out of Edd, who was now moaning loudly. He would give sweet, very content sounding moans every time it was shoved back inside of him.

Tord wasn't going too fast, but was still thrusting hard, setting a nice rhythm and giving a breathy chuckle as he watched the brunette. "Awe, you like that?~" he punctuated his words with an especially hard thrust causing Edd's voice to break as he quickly nodded, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

"I told you you would," Tord grinned, going faster now as he pounded the shorter "and just look at you, such a good boy, taking it so well~" Edd gasped feeling the leader's human hand take and gently started stroking his weeping cock. He gave a broken moan, cute little dick twitching at the attention, he could feel a second climax building.

"Do you want more baby?~" the norsk purred, glancing at Tom as he did. Edd followed his look and quickly nodded, giving the soldier a pleading look. He seems hesitant though, not sure it was a good idea "I... Don't know, are you sure he can take that much?" His eye lights flicked from Tord down to Edd as he spoke.

Said man huffed softly "I can take it, please Tom?" He begged softly, and Tord was ecstatic.

This was perfect, it literally possibly couldn't be going better. He kept his overwhelming joy to himself, but was very proud of himself and his plan. Tom's face went pink as Edd spoke, the man giving him puppy dog eyes as he leaned into him a bit more. "I guess it'll be alright" he spoke sort of softly, the lights now looking to the side.

"Fantastic" Tord smiled and started thrust again without any kind of warning, making Edd nearly jump out of his skin, surprised moan getting caught in his throat.

Edd could feel his climax rapidly approaching a second time, moaning and whimpering loudly as he was fucked. He could hear Tom fiddling with his jeans behind him as he got his dick out. "I-I'm-" was all he managed to mumble before he came, whining and squeezing his eyes shut tight. Tord didn't give him a break to catch his breath, if anything it felt like he was purposely pushing it deeper.

That wasn't going to be allowed at all once Edd agreed to stay, cumming without permission, but there was time for that later. You have to earn something before you can be in charge of it after all.

Now lubed up Tom grabbed Edd by the hips and positioned himself to start slowly pushing in. Tord did stop to let him, the shortest of the three panting heavily. Tom was even bigger than Tord was, both of them at once left him dizzy as it slowly pressed inside.

It honestly hurt a lot, Edd sort of wiggled as he tried to adjust. Tom very sweetly and gently kissed their sub's neck as he pushed deeper, he whispered "stay still for me Eddie..." The way the brunette squeezed around him was so fantastic.

Finally they were both completely inside of him and it felt so fantastic, it was by far the most he had ever taken at once and it definitely kind of hurt, but he felt so unbelievably stuffed and Tom was pressed right into his prostate. He couldn't even think, just whimpering and panting, giving quiet moans.

Once he was adjusted enough Tord started moving and Tom followed. It was a really weird sensation at first because it was almost impossible to get used to, Tord went right back to plowing him, even harder than before even. Tom on the other hand started fairly slowly, giving long thrusts to give Edd lots of time to adjust to his length.

The artist let his head fall back as he cried out, moaning loudly and arching his back slightly. Tord pushed his legs a bit further, holding the underside of his thighs as he pounded the shorter man who was sobbing at this point just giving little strings of incoherent nonsense and please for more. Tord had been close before but had to stop to let Tom in safely, it only took moments for his climax to build back up, panting as he thrusted, watching Edd melt for them.

It was perfect, he leaned a bit with a wide smirk on his face "you could... feel this good whenever you want," it was a little hard for him to keep a steady voice as he spoke "We'd take such good care of you, just say you wanna stay~" he instructed sweetly, Edd giving a desperate little whine.

"That's a good boy, go ahead and say it. You wanna stay here and be our cute little husband to fuck and use?~" Edd nodded quickly, mumbling "m-mhm!~ I do!~" he moaned sweetly, it was all he could muster.

"Good boy~" Tord grinned, pushing as deep as he could before cumming inside of him, Edd screaming as he was filled, Tom getting hard and faster all the while, he was getting closer to another orgasm himself by the second.

Tom felt a little weird about Tord getting Edd to agree to stay like this, he very obviously wasn't thinking clearly, but he didn't say anything. They could talk about it later.

Edd came again, starting to feel the overstimulation as they continued, starting to feel the dull pain in his hips. They pumped a few more rounds into him, just going until he said he couldn't take any more.

So, Tord had Tom help clean him up, being very gentle with him before calling somebody to come clean up the office. In the meantime they took Edd to their room. Tord has his own bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen that was connected to his office. Tom had his own room that was much nicer than the other soldiers' rooms but it was only a bedroom, and he spent most of his time in Tord's anyway.

They all got comfortable and cuddled up in the large comfortable bed in Tord's room, Edd passing out almost immediately in the warm comfortable embrace of his wonderful lovers, the other two soon to follow.

#sinsworld #sw edd #sw tom #sw tord #sw tordedd #sw tomedd #sw tomtord #sw tomtordedd

21 notes · View notes

bumpkinspice0 · 5 months

Text

Recovery Time: Chapter 4

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3k

Summary: He has a guitar and a quiet place to play now. Joel is starting to appreciate slowing down a little, but still wants to be useful. Finally off of his crutches, maybe he can be.

Warnings: A little angsty this time. Little bit of pining

Series Masterlist

Previous - Next

AO3

_______________

Chapter 4: Trust

He hates it. He fucking hates it. Sitting all day. The simple act of walking a few feet exhausting him, but he can’t seem to do much else. Like a lazy house cat. It’s foreign to him— being looked after. He didn’t like feeling so weak. Being so goddamn helpless. It’s simply not who he was. He protected the helpless… or used them if he needed to. But he was never one of them— pathetic and small.

Joel didn’t like it at all.

He doesn’t know what to do with all this time. He thinks he’s forgotten how to simply just live anymore. Survival was all there was for so long, and now he could actually take a moment for himself— and it was too much. Like he was suffocating on nothing but the air he could finally stop to breathe.

Then there was you.

You and that impenetrable cheery attitude. Yet another thing here that was completely alien to him.

He doesn’t deserve this— Any of it. Being catered to. Staying in the little paradise you’d built. Bleeding out in a field alone for the birds to eat was the death he deserved. So why did you take pity on him? What made him so fucking special to be given yet another second chance? You wouldn’t have taken him in if you knew who he was— what he’d done. He knows that for sure.

You were a capable woman, smart and kind— but so fucking stupid.

Everyone he knows would have just left him there. He would have if he were in your position. A stranger beaten to hell in the middle of nowhere, there were too many risks with it. Yet you dragged him right through your front door.

You welcomed him in with open arms. That’s just not how it goes anymore. All your time up here alone must have made you thick in the head. You gave him your bed. You feed him your food and put clothes on his back. Why? For nothing in exchange? He still can’t wrap his head around it.

Has the world really made him so callous? It’s what’s kept him alive for so long. It’s how you survive another day without being able to ever sleep through the night. He wonders if you had the same problems as him. As everyone else.

You, in many ways, were an enigma.

You talked. You talked all the time. To him, to that damn dog, to yourself. After years alone it’s probably all you had. Like that movie with Tom Hanks and the volleyball. You’d been alone for so long, it was only natural… and he wasn’t entirely unhappy to oblige some of your ramblings. Some.

While you did build something amazing here, he still pitied you. Pitted the fact that you had only yourself to share it with.

Christ, even someone like Bill had Frank to share his little safe haven with.

How did someone like you end up all alone here? Someone beautiful and kind and with valuable skills— someone who should never be alone. The story was probably a sad one. Sad stories were all there seemed to be anymore. He saw it in your eyes sometimes, despite the smile underneath them. That deep pain no one can really hide. Eyes that have seen horrible things. He’s sure his eyes looked the same.

You turned that pain into this place. Pouring your soul into everything here. He turned his pain into… something else.

He’s ashamed to admit he was obsessing over what your angle could possibly be, why you would keep him here. What you could gain from him.

What changed his mind was so stupid. You brought him that cup of coffee and eggs and he could just see it in you. He’s not sure what was so different about you that time. You weren’t pitifully leaving food next to the bed. He didn’t ask for anything. Just a kind gesture to say you were thinking of him as more than a hurt man. A cup of stale coffee in some faded old Garfield mug. Then it was just so obvious—there was no angle here. This is just who you were.

A good woman. A loving woman. The rarest thing in the world now.

Or maybe Joel just really missed coffee.

You’d made something truly beautiful. Not only surviving but thriving all alone. You’d left the property vastly under-protected, but in a way you worked smarter rather than harder. You camouflage yourself rather than make something conspicuous that needs constant maintenance like Bill’s stupid giant gate. The house was almost completely eaten up with overgrown vines sprawling all over every inch of it. Instead of a wall, you planted flowers. Ridiculous… but effective. He’d taken a short walk on the outside of the property the other day and once he got a good few yards away it was just another mass of overgrowth in the forest.

It couldn’t be sustainable. Nothing these days was. It would all have to be abandoned one day. Just another memory. Yet you put the effort in to make it a nice place to live. Not just a passive temporary shelter, but an actual home. It’d been so long since he’d been in a room that was actually loved. Bill and Frank’s place was loved but in a different way, like Bill was preserving something. A little time capsule of the past— But you somehow embraced the oddity of your situation.

Random junk decorated your walls and yard. Old rusted things that had no use in them anymore. Yet you displayed them as if to say this was something once. A reminder maybe. The walls of the cabin were lined with old magazine pages, dried herbs and flowers, and old relics of the past. Even a few candy wrappers hung there like family photos. Proof of humanity. Plants in every corner. You used every inch of space selfishly.

He noticed a few strings of Christmas lights hung around the house and across the property. They were useless now but he can almost picture you dancing at night with the property lit up and music blasting. You seemed like the kind of woman that’d like to dance.

I was a cluttered mess, but a beautiful one. Chaos yet everything had its place. Everything had its purpose here— except for him.

He’d been toying with the guitar on the porch for the last 2 days. At first, it sounded like familiarizing himself— scales and reluctant plucking. Seeing if he could still do it. Then a few licks that could resemble an actual song. You didn’t recognize most of them, but it was still nice to have something new to listen to. It was nice to have something to listen to at all.

He was skilled with it. Not a rockstar but well enough to hold his own— Not that you could really tell. You were a little tempted to start shouting song requests once it sounds like he’s got the hang of it again.

Art had one or two song books lying around— Mostly consisting of classic rock and country. Still, Joel mulled them over all the same. You hadn’t found any chores for him to do while remaining mostly immobile. You gave him a basket of beans to shuck and he had them finished in less than an hour. So you dubbed him the title of radio instead. He didn’t seem amused by it, but it didn’t stop you from leaning into the nickname.

“Next station!” You playfully shout from the garden. He’d been driving himself half mad for the last 20 minutes trying to get a particular riff just right.

“The station changes when I say it changes!” He shouts back, frustration pricking his words. He attempts the riff one more time and stumbles over his own fingers yet again. He mumbles something under his breath and flips to a new page in the country songbook. You hide a smile.

“Freebird!” You enthusiastically request for roughly the billionth time since he started playing that thing.

“If you say that one more time, I swear I’m leaving,” He grumbles, coming to a new page. He scans it briefly, recognition flashing in his eyes. “I know this one.” He mumbles, positioning his fingers.

A few practice picks and he starts a slow and clunky melody you didn’t recognize but was still overall pleasant. All of his slow playing was. You glance over and notice him mouthing some words in rhythm with his plucking. He’s putting a song together.

Is he going to sing? You wonder. Now that’d be a show.

For once since he got here you decided to just keep your mouth shut and enjoy the moment. He was finally relaxing. Comfortable with the situation. It took over a week but you finally didn’t feel like you were walking on eggshells around him. You hope he felt the same towards you.

You have lunch together— A fresh salad with a boiled egg and some rabbit jerky. You have most of your meals together now. For the first time in a while, you were enjoying mealtimes. It was just something passive you had to do to just fuel yourself. It was a chance for you to slow down too— and learn a little bit more about each other.

“You said you’re from Texas, right?”

“Austin,” He clarifies, pushing around the greens on his plate, “Came up here when it all started. Been here ever since.”

You nod, your eyes looking back down at your own plate. You didn’t want to push anything, he obviously didn’t like to talk much but neither of you liked sitting in silence. You were both trying.

“Saw a Generator back there,” He breaks the latest awkward silence that brewed, “Looks like it still works?”

“Barely useful,” You grumble, “Gas powered. Only have so much juice left for it. I only turn it on for emergencies or… special occasions.”

“Special occasions?”

“Holidays. My birthday. Or just… bad days” You feel almost embarrassed to admit it, “I use the stereo or watch a movie. It’s like a… treat.”

“A treat,” You catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips. He’s amused at the idea of your little parties. It was a little silly, yes, but it’s certainly kept you sane a few times.

Entertainment like that was a rarity these days, so whenever you had it you felt like the richest person in the world. Art didn’t have the best selection of music and movies for your taste but it was still something. You’ve unwillingly become a big fan of The Eagles and a lot of Clint Eastwood movies.

You both finish lunch in silence and move on to the next item on the docket. You see his face drop when you come back out with your medical bag.

“Bandage change already?” he asks. You’d been changing his bandages daily right before bed.

“Not yet actually,” You take a seat on the floor in front of him. “Today you get to come out of crutch jail. Can I see your foot?”

He scoots closer to you and gently places his wrapped foot on your lap. He’s eager. You can tell just how much he hated being so immobile. The image of him making a run for it as soon as you take the stabilizers out flashes through your mind. It’s a little cartoonish and funny but from what little you know about him he’ll be leaving as soon as he can walk a straight line halfway decently— Then it’ll be just you and Gus again.

“You sure the pain’s gotten better?” you ask one final time, “Nothing feels… off?”

“I know what broken bones feel like,” he assures you with a small eye roll. Well, without an X-ray machine, his intuition was the next best thing you had. What could go wrong?

“Okay,” you nod and begin the process.

He winces as you unwind the bandages and slip out the makeshift braces. The swelling has gone down considerably but there’s still a little stress on the skin. You gently roll his ankle through a series of movements to assess the damage. He gives an answer for each position through gritted teeth. Overall, it’s not too bad and likely not broken. The time for resting was over. Now he had to move if he wanted to speed up his recovery.

“Do those stretches twice a day. Feel free to walk around as much as you’d like, just don’t stress it too much. Use a walking stick if you need,” You instruct him as you gently roll the compression bandages around your hand and place them back in the bag, “You can put your boots on, just tie them loose. Move it around whenever you’re sitting, keep the blood flowing. Movement is your friend now.”

“Goody,” He groans as he leans down to roll his sock over his now only moderately swollen foot. “Alright, what do you need help with?”

Already back on the grind.

“I don’t–” you cut yourself off and actually think. He needs to move around. He’s healing up amazingly. Sitting around won’t help him anymore. You haven’t had the option to have help in so long that you don’t actually know what you need. There had to be something for him though, “What are ya good, Joel Miller?”

“Lately, just sitting around and lookin’ pretty.” You pause in shock before a laugh slips out more like a raspberry. It’s the first honest-to-good joke he’s told since he got here. He smiles at your reaction and you notice how the lines on his face change when he does. The dimples in his cheeks. The creases around his soft brown eyes. He was rather pretty… you suppose.

“I’m good at huntin’, I suppose,” he finally answers. “Noticed we went through those pheasants and rabbit you had.”

“We did,” You confirm.

“You have any traps set up?”

“I do not,” You confirm again, “Never learned that one.”

“Then I’ll set up some traps nearby,” He stands up with a grunt, taking a moment to regain balance. You hop up and offer your elbow for support but he waves you off, leaning on the railing instead. He wants to do it himself. That’s fine.

You’re a little worried about him going off on his own but he wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t going to come back…right?

“I’ll go with you.” You offer.

“You have plenty to do here. I can manage if you at least point me in the right direction of some rabbit trails.”

“I can do that. Gus’ll probably go with you. He’ll show you all the good spots and the way back, hopefully.” You look at the lazy dog sitting on the doorstep. His ears perk up at the mention of his name and strolls over to you, “Whadda need for supplies?”

“Rope and wire if you have it. A hammer would be nice.” He takes an experimental step. It’s clumsy but manageable. The next few days are gonna be rough for him but it’ll be what’s best for his ankle in the long run.

You lead him over to the Buck Shack, where you kept most of your miscellaneous supplies. He’s slow but steady, still getting the hang of it. You fill a bag with rope, some rusting wire, a hunting knife, and a hammer.

“I’ll tie a few here and I’ll head out and place ‘em,” he says, walking over to the workbench.

“Whatever you gotta do,” you say, turning to leave him to his work. You pause at the door. This could be an opportunity to get to know him more. For him to actually show you something. You’re debating your next words, but they still come before you can stop yourself, “Will you show me?”

“What?” his brows knit together.

“Show me… how to make a trap.” You let the request sit a moment before you start to regret it, “Actually, you don’t have to—”

“Okay,” He nods, gesturing you over to him, “Come over here.”

You skittishly walk to his side as he takes the spool of thin wire out of the bag. He cuts a length of it and spins a loop around his fist.

“For just a simple snare there’s not much to it, actually. Just a noose really. Most traps start the same, it just depends on how you set ‘em up that’s different,” Joel says as he ties a loose knot at the top of the loop, wrapping the wire around itself several times. You watch his large hands work with intensity. Callous, worked hands doing such small delicate movements— His knuckles still a little bruised from whatever fight he had been in. Your imagination runs a little wild at the sight of such strong things doing such small, purposeful movements.

“Just like this,” he holds up the small noose and pulls the loop tighter around his fingers, “This is for a still snare, good for rabbits and squirrels. Tie this up for them to run through on the ground and that’s about it. Nothing fancy. You try.”

You silently cut yourself a length of wire and copy his movements, wrapping it around your fist to make a loop and then twisting the wire around itself loosely at the top. He was right, it wasn’t anything fancy but you can’t help but feel like yours is inferior to his.

“Like this?” You hold up the completed trap.

He slides two fingers through the loop and pulls it taut. His eyes burn into yours as he does so— slowly. You immediately feel your cheeks start to heat up as he curls his fingers and gives a small tug. It wasn’t forceful but you can’t help but take a step closer to him.

“Perfect, darlin’.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #recovery time

47 notes · View notes

wanted-to-be-nosey · 2 months

Text

Hide and seek

AO3 link

Prompt fill: Object Insertion Word count ~2,300 Warnings: nsfw, unsafe insertions, swearing, under-negotiated kinks?, hidden public play, public erections

Peter had no idea what he’d ever done to end up in this type of situation. Honestly, at this point he was kind of scared to ask.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. A boring mission. Barely even a mission at all.

They hadn’t even required their suits – or supersuits anyway. Instead, he’d been given a very expensive two-piece Tom Ford number. Charcoal grey to compliment Tony’s black.

He and Tony had received an invite to a gala held at some old, rich guys mansion in the Hamptons. An old, rich guy who also happened to be a collector of unusual artifacts – especially of the illegal variety. Art smuggling is not something that the Avengers would normally worry themselves about, but they’d heard rumours about a vibranium statue that T’challa was anxious to get back. Something the king had been looking for, for a while and this was the first solid lead they’d come across.

It hadn’t been hard to get an invite to the gala given Tony’s reputation. He was known for being eccentric and an odd art collector himself.

They’d assumed it would be a quick in and out situation. Chat with some people to show face, find the statue and leave. In and out in an hour tops.

What they hadn’t accounted for, was the house to have security pat downs for everyone entering and exiting the building. Very thorough pat downs at that. Even if it was concealed in an internal pocket, they’d be exposed as they left. On their arrival they’d had to pull phones from pockets and even let them examine their watches.

So, it didn’t matter that they’d found the vibranium statue – shaped like a panther sitting upright on its hind legs – within thirty minutes of arriving, tucked away in a quiet backroom.

Finding it, standing staring at it, didn’t mean anything when there wasn’t a way to actually leave the building with it. They could maybe take pictures for T’challa so he could arrange something to retrieve it himself, but it could be moved by then. It’s unlikely that something so rare would stay still for long. It was likely constantly changing hands for security.

They really didn’t want to bring in the authorities since they didn’t want to advertise the fact that Wakanda had statues lying around made entirely of vibranium. The whole idea was to keep this below board. To do this quietly.

Of course, Peter should have known that Tony would find a solution to the seemingly impossible task.

A solution that involved him waving a condom and a packet of lube in Peter’s direction.

“I’m sorry,” Peter spluttered, not for the first time. “You want to do what, now?”

Tony rolled his eyes before stepping forward to grab the vibranium statue.

“I said, that we can just pop it in the condom and tuck it safely away.” Tony weighed the statue in his hand, running his fingers over the curving lines. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cause that’s insane!”

“Not really. It’s, what? Five inches tall? Yeah, that panthers face and body will probably be an odd shape but even at its widest it’s not much wider than my dick. We both know you can take me."

“That is so not the point here, Tony,” Peter said exasperated. “Number one, it’s not about fitting it, it’s about the walking around and keeping it in. It’s heavy and there’s no base. What if it gets lost?! That’s like anal safety rule one!”

“It won’t get lost,” Tony interrupted. “Besides worst comes to it I’ll dig it out later. Promise I won’t make you go to Cho.”

“Oh my God.... even if I’m ok with that part, I don’t think T’challa is going to want it back after its been up my ass!”

“That’s what the condoms for!”

“Why don’t you do it, if you want it so much?”

“Be serious, Pete. It’s been years since I’ve bottomed. I’d need far more prep than you would. Time that we don’t have.” Tony put the statue down and took Peter’s hand instead, growing serious as he watched Peter carefully. “I know it’s not exactly going to be comfortable, and I wish there was another way, but this is all I’ve got. If you really don’t want to do it, then we’ll figure something else out. But I really do think this would work. However, just say the word and I promise I’ll drop it.”

Peter hated it when Tony made sense. Yes, they could try and come back another time, but this was their best chance. He really did want this not-quite-a-mission-but-definitely-becoming-one to be a success. And despite his reluctance, he couldn’t deny that the idea did excite him. The thought of walking out past all the other guests, his ass full, had his pulse beating faster and his cock twitching in his pants. Especially knowing what it would do to Tony.

Double checking the door was locked behind him, Peter turned around with a sigh and began unbuckling his belt.

“You better hurry up then,” he said over his shoulder, suppressing a chuckle at Tony’s dumbfounded expression. “And you better make this worth my while later.”

His trousers hadn’t even made it past his hips when Tony kicked into action, grabbing everything he’d need and kneeling reverently behind Peter as he worked his trousers and boxers down to his knee.

“Trust me, I’ll be worshipping you tonight for this,” Tony moaned as his hands roamed over Peter’s ass. “My trousers are already tight at the thought.”

As much as Peter was sure Tony would’ve liked to take his time, the older man swiftly got to work opening him up. The lube, and the fact they’d had sex the night before, meant Tony could easily fit two fingers inside and quickly worked his way up to three. Peter was carefully holding the bottom of his dress shirt to prevent him from leaving any marks or unwanted stains as he leant against the wall, panting.

“How’re you doing?” Tony checked, sounding as breathless as Peter felt.

“Good,” Peter breathed, still listening for movement out in the hallway, the voices from the main hall still drifting to him. “You can add another.”

“You sure?”

“As hot as this is, I don’t want to be caught with my trousers literally down,” he chuckled. “So, yeah, go for it.”

Peter’s breath hitched at the stretch of the fourth finger, it was sharper than he was used to. Tony usually stretched him far more than necessary, taking his time and usually resulting in Peter cumming at least once before he was deemed ready, but time was of the essence here. Tony tenderly kissed his ass and whispered reassurances. Once Peter was able to comfortably take Tony’s fingers and found himself eagerly rocking back against them, he turned to speak over his shoulder.

“I think I’m ready.”

Tony watched him for a moment before nodding and slowly extracting his fingers.

“Right. I’m going to pop this into the condom and tie it off. It doesn’t have a flared base so you’re right, it goes against like every safe insertion talk I’ve ever given but it won’t be for too long and I’ll get it out when we get back,” Tony spoke quickly and quietly as he rolled the condom over the statue. “My fingers are going to smell of condom juice for days. Ugh, it’s so slimy and not helping me get a grip to tie it.”

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate your feedback,” Peter smirked. “Clearly they need to improve the texture to aid those individuals looking to smuggle things in their ass.”

“Ha ha,” Tony said drily. “I know your joking, but it’s maybe something SI could look into. I’m sure I could think of a medical application for it if I try hard enough. A way to not make it sound like it’s for purely illegal purposes.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking right now or not.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Tony smirked, giving Peter’s ass a gentle smack. “Right, you ready for this?”

Peter simply nodded and turned back round; his cock was hanging heavy between his legs, but he already knew he wouldn’t be doing anything about it until they got out of there. The voices from the party were making him nervous and they’d already spent more than enough time at this stupid gala.

The cold press of the statue had him gasping, but he breathed through it as Tony slowly pushed it inside. Applying a bit more lube as the statue widened and he began to give some resistance. He couldn’t prevent a whine at the sharp, almost painful, stretch of the widest part of the statue.

“Breathe Pete, it’s almost there,” Tony murmured, stroking his hip reassuringly. Peter tried to slow his breathing and relax his muscles. He knew tensing wasn’t going to help anything, but it was hard to get his body to cooperate. “Just relax. There we go.”

“Wow,” Peter sighed as he felt his hole finally close behind the statue, the heavy weight of it sitting inside of him. An insistent presence. “Now what?”

“Now, we get out of here,” Tony said, letting his fingers trail over Peter’s crack one last time before pulling up his boxers and trousers, and standing up to allow Peter the chance to get himself sorted.

He could feel the statue within him with every movement. Not necessarily pleasurable, but not not pleasurable either. The weight of the statue made its presence known even when all he was doing was standing. His ass unintentionally clenching to keep it from falling out, despite the fact the size of it would surely add enough resistance that it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Right,” Peter breathed, turning to face Tony, as he finished buckling his belt. “The cars waiting?”

Tony pressed a couple of buttons on his watch before nodding.

“It will be. How does it feel?”

“Weird. Heavy. I don’t know.” He took an experimental step forward and groaned. “Fuck,” he moaned. “So full. It feels good though. Moving causes it to bump around inside. Not sure I’ll be able to will away my hard-on though.”

“Me neither. Just pop your hands in your pockets and we’ll make a swift exit. Although I’m not sure the car will be the haven you think it’ll be. We’ll have about a twenty-minute drive where you’ll be sitting down and feeling every bump in the road.”

“Fuck, Tony.”

Tony smirked, “I thought you’d like that. Now, c’mon. Car should’ve arrived by now. We need to bid a quick farewell to the host and then I can take you home to ravish you like you deserve.”

“You can’t just say things like that,” Peter groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets to try and disguise his erection pressing against the front of his trousers.

Leaving the room, Peter lets Tony guide him with a hand on his low back as they bid their goodbyes. The leaving pat down was extremely awkward with the pair of them tenting their trousers, but at least it served as an excuse for their early exit. Peter would like to say the knowing smirks from the security didn’t cause his dick to twitch but he’d be lying. Apparently, he had a thing for doing risky things in public. The thought that these men had an inkling over what they were up to was causing his cheeks to flame in embarrassed arousal. But that was something they could explore further at a later date. He had a twenty-minute car ride home to endure first.

Peter jolted as he sat down. Tony had been right. The pressure increased the sensation. Despite there being no base to be pressed on, it still felt like it was being pressed further in as he sat down. Tony’d better be able to get it out when they got back or there’d be hell to pay.

“You good?” Tony asked, as he set the car in drive and slowly exited the gravel driveway, Peter gritting his teeth as he adjusted his trousers.

“Yeah,” he ground out, clenching his hands into fists.

Tony turned on the radio as they joined the main road, speeding along the empty streets. Peter took the time to admire the view outside, anything to try and distract from the ever-present fullness he was feeling. He couldn’t imagine how his ass was ever going to relax enough to get it out again.

They were pulling up to Tony’s own house in the Hampden’s when the realisation suddenly hit to Peter.

“Hey, I just realised, we could’ve just taken it out when we got into the car.”

The twinkle in Tony’s eye as he turned to grin at Peter let him know Tony had already had that thought and chosen to ignore it.

“We could’ve, but this was way more fun, don’t you think?”

“Ugh,” Peter groaned.

“Besides, I promised to make it worth your while. This way you’re just extra ramped up for me and I’ll just have to worship you for longer to make up for your extra suffering.”

“You’re insufferable,” Peter huffed without any real bite.

“Yet, you love me. C’mon, you know it’s always better to beg forgiveness than ask permission. And don’t even try to deny that you weren’t into it. I saw how you reacted to those security guys. Don’t think that’s not something we’ll be discussing at depth later. I have so many ideas. But first, I believe I promised you an extraction so let’s get inside, yeah?”

Rolling his eyes, Peter nodded and exited the car. Small moans escaping him again as he stood up and the statue yet again shifted. T’challa better appreciate the effort that went into this retrieval. It was certainly going to be one he remembered for the rest of his life. Especially if the rest of the night went as well as he was hoping.

#starker #sfsummerbingo23 #peter parker × tony stark #fanfic #unsafe insertions #bottom!peter

7 notes · View notes

sirsnortsalot · 10 months

Note

YOUR TAGS ON THEEEE TOM LOOKING AT GREG ACROSS THE AISLE POST I DSDJKSDJSKJDJKS we shake hands that ep is my entire life for so many reasons i hhhhhhhhhhh. tom's suit being called a gregory. the two of them dressed in black and white when greg says "i do" true to marriage tradition. the fact that when tom sits down in front of greg he literally looks like he's getting on one knee. the way their knees are touching. the way they are sitting so close. the way the two waiters in the background are playfully smacking each other on the ass with towels and both greg and tom look at them wistfully before talking like god i wish that were us. the way greg teases tom a little with the well... keeping him hanging on a little bit. the way greg says "of course". the way their conversation [in that connor asks willa if she really wants this, bc she's kind of giving up her soul wrt money and she says yes i am and i do like the security and wealth but she also likes connor for himself, and connor talks about the age gap!!! and discrepancy in their positions and how they met and came to be and how everyone is always making fun of him/their relationship but she takes him serious and confirms she does want it and then they giggle and laugh it off just like a certain other couple] and body position mirrors connor and willa as well as the cinematography/shots who do actually get married in 4x03 [alone. without the siblings there. almost like a secret ish wedding. hmmm]. the way that nb said 'they wish they were getting married' and the way these mfs act you Know that's actually true and real. the way tom drops the "sporus". the way that after they shake hands, greg's arms twitch out as if to hug tom but then he decides against it bc he's not sure if tom would like that and he doesn't want to ruin this, because everybody else shrinks away from his touch or is disgusted by him but tom opens his arms and greg leaps at the chance, taking tom's shoulders and pulling him in slightly and hugging him tightly, tom literally jostled by the force of the hug.

i Think about the "come with me, sporus" scene a lot.

Oh my god y e s just that one scene felt like peak tomgreg in like 1000 ways

ESPECIALLY because it’s right after shiv calls tom and tells him about her plan and his IMMEDIATE reaction being “okay, this is my chance to finally hit her where it hurts after her ‘death-by-1000-cuts’-ing me for years, but first i need to make sure greg is safe and on my side” like BEFORE anything else (just checked the script books and greg walks over to him RIGHT after he gets off the phone with shiv, no time to think about anything else) AND THEN ”SPORUS” AND THEN THE MOST ROMANTIC SCENE THAT HAPPENS IN THE (WEDDING) EPISODE AND THEN TOM ‘KILLING’ HIS WIFE I JUST. AUGH THE NERO & SPORUS SHIT MAKES ME GO BATSHIT ISTG HFSKJGHDFKJGHJDFKGHDRKJHY (also while I was in the script books I saw that the hug was unscripted??? It was meant to be just the handshake??? Just like the forehead kiss was unscripted too??? Matthew Mcfadyen is an absolute GODSEND (& nb I guess but yknow) for just ADDING those in UNPROMPTED he’s such a tg truther oml)

Also can you IMAGINE how greg must've felt at the beginning of the tomshivorce, seeing him and tom going out together to hook up w random models or whatever (i think they were playing it up quite a bit and just wanted to spend time with each other but yknow) and having the realisation somewhere that “do you wanna come with me, sporus” AND THEN THIS could have been referring to tom wanting to be with greg? Like we know greg knows the story, and we know he knows that tom betrayed shiv and he knows that the tomshivorce is resulting in tom getting a lot closer with him very quickly and he’s not stupid, he can put 2 and 2 together and see himself getting remodelled into the romantic partner for tom that shiv isn’t anymore for him, AND HE DOESN’T SHY AWAY FROM IT! LIKE LOOK AT 4X01, IS THAT THE BODY LANGUAGE AND BEHAVIOURS OF SOMEONE WHO IS AVOIDING THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PRESENCE OF TOM WAMBSGANS FBSKJGHDFJGDFKJY

(i will never shut up about the timeskip <3)

👏 HEART 👏 EYES

#also i felt so honoured when i got your ask like holy shit the blog that i send my tg bullshit to sent me THEIR tg bullshit??#<33 #tomgreg

20 notes · View notes

topgun-imagines · 7 months

Text

Day 5: Head Above Water

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x fem!reader

Synopsis: Iceman may have just lost his one and only reason for keeping his head above water: You.

Warnings: Mentions of drowning, death, thalassophobia, ejection, plane crash, & brief mention of panic attacks.

Word count: 1.2k

Drowning was a funny thing. You always expected that it was one of the most painful ways to go. However, as you floated further and further down in the dark, cold water, you realized just how wrong you were. The first few moments were horrible, your lungs burning as you struggled to return to the surface with your parachute tangled around your legs. Soon, it became too much. Water began to fill your lungs ever so slowly, the pain overwhelming. And then it was gone just as fast. Everything went dark.

Unbeknownst to you, your pilot was only a few meters above you, willing to risk his own life to save yours.

You weren’t even supposed to be here. That was what kept circling Iceman’s mind as he tried relentlessly to get to you. Slider was supposed to be flying with him. Not you. But the RIO was needed on the carrier for something that Ice couldn’t even remember now. Sure, the two of you had flown together before, but it had always been for training or simple missions. Never something as high-profile as this.

It’s not that the two of you didn’t work well together. Quite the opposite, in fact. You and Iceman worked so well together that you were considered a dream team, both in the air and on land. Even though you had only flown a couple of missions together, the two of you were perfect. Hell, even Slider was jealous.

This mission was special, something that could only be pulled off by the best of the best. Everything was going perfectly fine. Right up until the left wing of your jet was taken out with a missile that Ice had tried to avoid. Ultimately, he failed. And now here he was, wading in the frozen waters desperate to find you among the wreckage. He needed you to make it out okay. This mission was supposed to be the one that would send the two of you to Top Gun. Slider had been paired up with another pilot for the spot, meaning that it was one group or the other that got to go.

However, right now, Ice couldn’t find it in himself to care whether he made it to Top Gun or not. All he needed was for you to be okay. As long as you were okay, he would be too. But as the cold water began to set a chill deep into his bones, the hope that had been slowly dying in his chest was snuffed out immediately.

When the missile first struck the jet, the two of you knew exactly what to do. You ejected, followed shortly by Ice. However, your parachute didn’t deploy properly, sending you crashing into the debris-filled water much faster than anything that would be considered safe. Ice had watched, horror-stricken as you dissapeared beneath the surface of the water and never came back up. The seconds felt like hours before he was finally in the cold water, thrashing none too calmly in an attempt to get to you.

The fact that the pilot could no longer see your brightly coloured parachute terrified him to his very core. In one last ditch effort to locate where you were, Ice dunked his head under the water. Even though it was dark and the chances were slim, he was hoping he could at least catch a glimpse of you. Only when he was almost out of breath did he finally emerge from the water. All thoughts of his own safety were disregarded as he tried again and again to find you.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach. The pilot had no idea what he was going to do if he lost you. He couldn’t even fathom returning to the carrier without you. You were his rock. The single most important person in his life. Sure, he had Slider. But you were there for him on nights when he woke up screaming, his mind plaguing him with terrifying images of losing you. Much like he was now. You were the person who made sure he was eating and sleeping instead of working himself to the bone. And he was just supposed to let you go? Not a chance.

One late night, you had showed up at Ice’s dorm in tears. That was the first time he had ever seen you like that and the pilot could still remember the horror he felt. It was eerily similar to how he was feeling now.

The two of you stayed up the whole night, talking about everything and nothing, all at once. That was the night that Ice first learned about your fear of oceans. Your father was in the Navy. It was why you joined in the first place. But it was also why you had the overwhelming fear that you just couldn't shake no matter what you did. You had lost your father in an accident just like this one.

When you were first selected to fly this mission with Iceman, he had confronted you about it. He wanted to be 100% sure that you would be able to handle flying that high-profile of a mission above the ocean. You had assured him that you would be fine and when he questioned you, you told him eight simple words. “I’ll be okay, Ice. Cause I trust you.” Those words seemed to echo around his head, taunting him for his failure to protect you.

Ice wasn’t sure how long he had been swimming back and forth in the water. He wasn’t even aware of how sore his arms had become. The only thing on his mind was you. A little soreness meant nothing to him as long as you were okay.

It could have been 20 minutes, it could have been 2 hours by the time the rescue chopper finally showed up. The men tried to haul Ice out of the frigid water but he wouldn't leave. Not without you. Against his wishes, he was pulled into the helicopter. The pilot was positive that he had never been more heartbroken and angry than when the chopper started to rise from the water. Without you. They were just going to leave you there. How could he stand for that?

Normally, Iceman wasn’t one to become upset easily and if you were to ask him, he would argue that he had a perfectly valid reason for his reaction. The men in that rescue helicopter had never heard such foul language before.

“How could you leave her!?” They tried to calm him down, insisting that there was another chopper right behind them with the sole intention of finding you. Ice didn’t care. He needed to be with you. He needed to know that you were still alive.

Even as the chopper continued back to the carrier, the men refused to tell him whether or not you were okay. He felt sick to his stomach. Usually, you were the one to make that feeling go away. But this time, you were the reason why it was there. His job was to protect you. You trusted him with your life. And he had failed. Needless to say, whether you lived or died, Iceman would never forgive himself.

a/n: thank you for reading! Join the whumptober taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021

140 notes · View notes

jinx-on-mars-19xx · 7 months

Text

Saving Grace

✨ All Previous Parts Here ✨

(sorry I got too overwhelmed going chapter by chapter)

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: SPN inspired, ABO dynamics (knots, slick, mpreg), demon Kells, hunter Dom, Big Warning! Fear of miscarriage! (It's only a few minutes but keep yourself safe!), bleeding while pregnant, fear, scared boys, boys realizing how they feel, teasing, cuddles, careful Kells, surprising interruption, magic, secrets almost revealed, Tom being shady, Dom questioning everything, Rowena getting fresh, improper baby checking, mentions of hell, boys in love ⚰️ rating: mature

Keliphos was tired of nervously pacing in front of their bedroom already and it had only been half an hour. He couldn't make himself stop moving though. He hated not being part of the conversation but Dom had asked him to wait outside so he was. He'd do a lot for his mate- anything really. He just wasn't prepared for the rampant anxiety rushing through him. Especially because he knew his lover needed the space so he didn't have to mask his own worry. It was sweet because he knew the human was trying to protect him but at the same time it meant he thought he needed to. Fuck, love was confusing.

They'd gone so hard with each other the day before, Kells had fucked him rough and dirty from the shower to the bed and it didn't completely stop until later that night when he passed out from exhaustion. The devil had thought everything was okay because Dom said he wasn't in any kind of extra pain. It was the normal 'just took almost a foot of dick for hours' deep belly ache. Or so they had thought. Col had let himself drift as Dom slept and when they woke up the human was hurting and the nephalem could scent blood. Kells had felt different kinds of fear in his long life but nothing had ever knocked him so out of breath as when he saw red on his boyfriend's finger tips.

The day before he'd meant to show the omega a sliver of what he thought was his true self- they'd talked about his penchant for pain and torture and the kid had sworn he loved all of him. Perhaps even loved him more because of his darkness instead of in spite of it. He remembered Dom saying he trusted him with their child because of it, that his demonic side would be more protective or at least more willing to do whatever it took. They may never even get to that point because he let too much of it show and he may have hurt them… Shit, how could he love something so much he'd only known about for a few days? Why had he gone so hard?

He kept trying to tell himself it hadn't been too much blood, it definitely wasn't as much as Dom drank from him daily or anything. It shouldn't be enough to be a problem and yet he was scared. It was quite possibly the first time he didn't like seeing the Hunter covered in red. He was trying to think of anything else, trying to focus on the fact that Rowena had never shown up the day before and that wasn't fucking good. She always kept to her word. He couldn't stay on anything though, not when there was some magical shit going on with his mate and child behind him but he had to be good. He could prove to Dom he could be good.

After another ten minutes and another mile of pacing he was sure, the door finally opened and he turned so fast he smacked into Tom. They were both a bit startled but only because they were already so nervous. He tried to push past the witch but he grabbed him gently around both arms and kept him there. "What the fuck dude, let me-"

"If you don't settle you'll make him think he has to protect your emotions. Chill the hell out Col." The hidden goddess snapped softly and he took a breath. He didn't want Dom more worried for him. After a moment he met those silver eyes as relaxed as he could and the other ancient smiled. "They're okay. Strong honestly, and bigger than we thought. I didn't wish to add more stress so I didn't mention it but they're nearing a trimester of growth already."

That stopped the demon cold, he didn't think he was upset but it did mean he wasn't imagining things. His kid was growing at a rapid pace and his baby mama had no idea. Shit. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure why he'd been having headaches for the first time in his life but it was getting on his nerves. "But they're okay?" He whimpered softly and his Mitéra nodded.

"They seem as stubborn as both their parents. Or perhaps you're just egotistical about your prowess." Tom tried to tease to lighten the mood. He couldn't imagine what his family was going through, it was stressful enough for him watching who he thought of as his children be so scared. "I think you simply stretched him too much, or perhaps pulled free too soon. You already healed him, that was simply left over. Perhaps less… acrobatic relations from now on?"

Keliphos was surprised to see the witch blush but it made him chuckle. Tom didn't have to worry about that, after all that fear he wasn't sure he could touch Dom again until the kid was out. Fuck that. "Is he okay?" He asked after a moment. He didn't want his lover terrified or upset, but he could understand if he was pissed at him.

Tom looked away for a moment and sighed, offering the devil a small shrug of one shoulder. "I believe he's surprised at how scared he was. Like I said before, he wasn't prepared to accept so much into his life. He's already been through the fear of almost losing you twice, I think he's overwhelmed. Just be honest about how you feel, I think he was a bit embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" The demon just didn't understand. Because he needed Tom to check him? He could have done that but he didn't have the same type of magic. He wasn't sure he could feel out a child, even with it being his own.

"Not that, he cried a bit. I think he finds it shameful to love or be worried over that love. Help him Col, don't make it worse." It was blunt and matter of fact and exactly what he would expect from him. Neither of them were great at dealing with other people but at least Kells could fake it a little better.

"Swear, I'll try." He sighed back, kissing the man's cheek as he passed. That was the thing, Tom had once been his parent but he was also Dom's and they both knew the demon would rather have his mate supported. It made him trust the witch even more. He took a step around him and pushed open their bedroom door to find Dom curled on the bed. He was under some thick blankets but his pale face was just visible and as Kells closed the door behind him the boy looked over. The second their eyes met the devil realized how pink his were and they started to well again as he neared the bed. "Shit Domie, I'm so sorry." He soothed, crawling up next to him. He laid on his side in a similar position so they could keep eye contact and hold hands between them. He focused his grace and tried to send another wave of healing through his omega but he was still learning.

"Don't apologize. I'm fine." The kid sniffled and tried to smile but it felt weak around the edges even to the human. "Sorry I freaked out like tha'. Jus' a little blood and I panic- great show."

Keliphos scoffed and moved closer, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's hand. "You were calm as fuck compared to me. I think there's a hole in Tom's floor." He cringed, trying to make his mate smile.

"I could 'ear yas. Dunno 'ow I got so scared Kells. We jus' found out." His voice went soft and small as if he was trying to keep their conversation a secret.

"I know. Me too." The devil sighed. "I guess we have to face it."

"Face wha'?"

"We're like… parents." Col joked, sticking his tongue out and scrunching his nose. He was thousands of years old but he'd never once thought of himself as an adult. Yet there they were, responsible for a very small life. "You loooove them." He still couldn't claim he was an adult though and he didn't plan to any time soon.

"Piss off! You do! Pussy." Dom scoffed, playing right back. His voice was wet and thick with emotion. His face was still pink and his sinuses stuffed. Keliphos could heal a lot but not if the boy just kept crying. He would wait and try to help his asthmatic bitch breathe when he was calm.

"Isn't that how we got into this? You calling me a pussy?"

"Oi, blaming me? 'Ow bloody dare yas. I weren't begging you to try and break me." He huffed back before blushing somehow pinker. He certainly had begged something exactly like that. "You is a pussy. Look at you. Wha' ya gonna do when our baby falls?"

"It'll be fine cause we'll live in a padded room."

Dom rolled his eyes but smiled something a lot more real. He tried pulling his mate closer by his hand, before he thought better of it and raised the mountain of blankets. The air chilled his naked skin and Kells stared a moment before finally wiggling against him. The nephalem had only dressed in shorts when he left the room, something he could grab and stumble into as he ran to find Tom so when they rolled together they were flesh to flesh almost everywhere. Kells would swear he could feel the omega even plusher but he wouldn't say anything.

"So a trimester aye?" Dom sighed as he pressed his forehead to his alpha's shoulder. He wasn't hiding but it was certainly easier to talk that way. Kells froze, his eyes blinking fast as he tried to process how he knew. "Tom talks louder 'an he finks. I told yas to stop 'iding shite but I get it. Tha's… fuck."

The devil pet soothingly down his spine but he wasn't sure what to say. It scared him too, he wasn't anymore ready for their babe than Dom was. "Don't worry, it will slow down." That… wasn't his voice and it wasn't Tom's. The demon had a knife in his hand before he even moved and he sat up enough to look around. He knew the voice though, he was just surprised she would appear in their fucking bedroom. "Hello boys, weren't you expecting me?" Rowena grinned, acting as if she owned the place when she took a seat on the bed behind Dom. She was beautiful as always but a little worse for wear. He just hoped Astaroth didn't know what they were after. "Oh you poor love, the wee one gave you a fright?" Her Scottish accent always felt thicker than her bright red hair when she was trying to ease someone's worries. For the Queen of Hell she was sweeter to those she loved than anyone expected but she learned the hard way to savor what she had. Poor thing. He tucked the knife back under the pillow and relaxed but he couldn't completely. If she was here that meant something was going on.

"I'm alright. It was jus' a bit of blood. Are you okay?" Dom asked as he looked up at her. He knew she was a friend to his family and even though he was a little shocked she felt it okay to pop in their room he didn't want to be rude to her. She was helping. Her dark eye makeup was still perfect but her hair looked tousled, her skin a little messy.

"Oh, did our boy go a mite too hard? He never has understood his own power." The way her 'r's rolled almost made it easier to handle knowing she was talking from experience. He didn't blame either of them but he couldn't help wondering… she had to be good. She winked down at him as his mate scoffed, he knew the demon wanted to reassure him but he didn't want to insult his queen. "Love makes all the difference. Now, shall we talk?"

"Did you find him? Are you okay? Did Astaroth find you?" Kells didn't mean to go overboard but he was worried. He wanted to save Ramiel without fighting. He genuinely wanted to save their revenge until Dom could join him.

Rowena's perfectly manicured hand disappeared under the blanket and Dom jumped. "Um… tha's not me belly luv."

"Oops! I overreached. There we are. Aren't you a lucky one Keliphos." She purred and Dom flushed hot. "Your father doesn't know, I found Ramiel locked away and managed to get him free but I'm not able to bring him to Earth myself. Astaroth used the cage Kells. I don't know how but… You're lucky you asked me. Before now I thought I was the only one who knew how to open it. I believe he has the Horsemen's rings, it's the easiest way to come and go. However, that means we have far more trouble than we thought." She huffed.

Dom was more confused than he could explain, of course he'd heard of some of these things- he read the books like any Hunter history buff but he assumed all those items would be protected. It didn't help that she was softly rubbing his belly and probably touching his boyfriend in the process. But it felt oddly calming and comforting so he didn't want to cause a fuss. He'd never had a mother's touch besides Tom and he wasn't sure if she was being sexual or truly just checking on the baby or possibly both.

"Thank you Row, seriously. Wait… you couldn't get him to Earth?" Kells asked, a pit forming in his stomach.

Suddenly the door flew open and Tom was standing there frazzled and holding a cast iron frying pan like a weapon. He looked ready to kick ass until he realized it was her and he relaxed. "Well your reaction time is getting slow with your age Tom dear." She teased him and he flipped her off.

"Are you alright?" He asked, moving closer to the bed. He knew better than most that she wouldn't normally be late unless something went wrong and with everything that was at stake he was anxious already.

"I'm perfectly fine, it took me a bit longer to spell the poor boy with protection and I… I was trying to free him." She sighed.

"But you just said-" Kells started to interject.

"I freed him from the cage but Astaroth trapped him in hell. Somehow he was able to lock his grace inside his vessel and chain that vessel to hell. I even tried taking Ramiel through Purgatory but it was no use. He starts to die the moment he attempts to leave. It's magic I barely understand." They all knew how hard that was for her to admit, she was the strongest witch besides Tom that anyone knew of and even then there were some things Tom bowed to her for. "I hoped perhaps you could help."

Dom looked up to Keliphos then to Tom, he thought she must be talking to one of them until Kells started to talk back to her. "He just fucking- no. Fuck that shit Row, respectfully. I'm not allowing my damn baby mama in hell!"

"Wait, fuck you Kells. Shut up! Ain't tha' me choice? I'm jus' confused! 'Ow could I 'elp? I barely know magic." He grumbled back but he kept his voice soft. He understood Col's fear. They'd just spent the morning thinking their child was hurt. He wasn't sure he even wanted to go himself and risk anything but if it was for Ramiel… if he could truly help he had to.

"I like the fire in this one, you did well with him Tom. And you, Kells… How did it feel having your wings back?" She asked and they all went silent. The demon knew his fellow ancient was surprised but he didn't know how to explain. He didn't even know how to talk back to her over something like that. "Dominic here is a dark magic null. Have you not noticed yet?"

Dom blinked slowly, his jade eyes looking up to meet hers. "Wha' you mean? Null? I been cursed Row, dark magic works on me." He couldn't understand what she meant. What the fuck was she on about?

"No love, Astaroth only revealed the truth of what you already were. It was simply a light magic glamor that hid your true nature. Think about it, you carry his babe inside you even though he's been cursed not to create life. The longer you two are together the more his angelic side is able to shine. You reverse dark magic just being near. I believe you are the only one who can save the angel my dear." The room fell silent. Everyone sat confused and staring except Tom who just looked scared.

"Wha' um… wha' you mean Row? I weren't born an omega. I'm 'uman. I'm 'uman." His voice broke, tears burning his eyes again. "Aren't I? Tom?… tell 'er?"

"I… I'll have to look into it. Don't worry though, we'll figure it out. I'm sorry Dom, I never want you frightened." The hidden goddess was terrified and everyone could tell. For once both Dom and Kells knew he was hiding something but they didn't push. There was too much happening for them to be at odds at the moment.

"I know." The boy whispered back but he was scared to say too much. He was just surprised his mate wasn't lunging.

"At least be content in the knowledge your babe is a strong one. About the size of a kiwi fruit. Lovely." The Queen purred, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh." Dom hummed, he was still too shocked to say much else. He wished he could be more normal and just get to focus on that but one thing at a time. "Fank you Row, I'd love to 'elp wiv Ramiel. Shall we?"

Keliphos arched a brow and wanted to stop time from moving. He couldn't stand the thought of his mate in hell but… it was his choice and he wouldn't piss the kid off. "Can we have a minute? Please?" He asked, nodding thankfully when the witches left the room. "Can you just give me a fucking minute? Just… please?"

He didn't have to ask, Dom was thankful for it too. He knew they probably needed to talk but instead his alpha pulled him flush against his chest and held him tight. He wasn't sure how they needed the exact same thing but it felt perfect, all he could do was breathe him in and let himself melt against his boyfriend. How could so much go mad so quickly? He couldn't even face most of it. For just a moment he tried to ignore everything else and focus on what good they had going for them. Their baby was healthy and big. "A kiwi… I wonder if it's fuzzy too." He tried to tease and Kells chuckled against his hair. For just a moment maybe time could stand still, if only so they could breathe and bond together.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 🖤

To anyone who saw this post before I fixed it? You didn't 🫣 it was an accidental click. I hope you enjoyed this! I know it's a little stressful but I hope still good. Sorry no kinktober post. How is Dom a null? What is he really? What is Tom STILL hiding? Can they save Ramiel? Keep reading to find out! Thank you 🖤⚰️

8 notes · View notes

five-miles-over · 2 years

Text

SFW Alphabet - Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Trigger warning: mentions of violence and crime

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Tom might not be one for PDA, preferring to stick to hand-holding or keeping an arm around your waist during public outings. But behind closed doors? It's hard to keep his hands and lips off of you. He loves kisses, hugs, marking you with love bites, and making you scream his name in ecstasy.

Also, he loves to show affection by sending you expensive gifts like Godiva chocolates, exquisite bouquets, couture dresses, and designer shoes.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It takes a lot of time to earn Tom's complete and earnest trust, but once you do, he will be your ride-or-die. He will do absolutely anything for you - whether it's to avenge someone who's attacked you, use his contacts to get you a position in your dream company, be your wingman when you have a crush, or even buy flowers for your grandmother's birthday. Just remember that he'll be expecting a favor (or more) from you, no questions asked.

The friendship might start with you being a new inductee into Tom's business, or possibly you being the close relative of one of Tom's associates. Perhaps you meet by chance at a public event, and Tom takes an interest in you. After getting information from his subordinates about you, he gets you alone and asks genuine questions about your background. And depending on how things go, he might meet with you more frequently and make himself look like the "good guy". Then one day, he asks you for a favor to test your loyalty to him. How well you do it determines everything that follows.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Tom does enjoy cuddling, but he will never say it out loud. He thinks that he'll get addicted and grow "soft" if he starts asking for cuddles. He wouldn't oppose you putting your arms around him when the two of you are in private, watching a film or having a rare day off.

However, if he's had a long night of killing/near-death experiences, he appreciates it so, so much when his partner holds him close and strokes his hair. It's one chance to get some much-needed peace and quiet. If you're lucky, you might hear a faint "I love you" or a "thank you" escape his lips.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Tom does want to settle down eventually, but he is very careful and tactical in waiting for the right partner. Someone who won't protest or actively oppose his work, someone whom he can trust not to betray him, someone who still has "sweetness" inside them, and someone who will love him unconditionally.

Tom actually knows a few basic kitchen operations like how to make spaghetti with tomato sauce, how to wash dishes, and how to sweep from his childhood. But nowadays, he just hires house helps to keep his residence(s) clean and organized.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Tom would probably break up with his partner for one of two reasons: either they put his safety in jeopardy (or betrayed him), or he believes that breaking up is the best way to keep his partner safe.

The breakup would be a simple letter telling you that ending your relationship was the best thing for the both of you, and that he wished you well in the future. Little did you know, however, that Tom already hired a subordinate or a private investigator to keep a watchful eye on you. Depending on the depth and the length of the relationship, Tom would certainly be heartbroken and privately mourn the fact that he cannot be with you any longer. It would be a long time before he can bring himself to move on from you, and until then, he'd try to bury himself in his work.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Tom understands the importance of commitment, and the benefits of having a great wife. But commitment isn't exactly the first thing on his mind - he's too busy with world domination.

That changes of course when he meets you. After several months of dating (and making out), he would buy you a swanky London apartment, under a pseudonym to protect you both. And from then on, he begins to take care of many of your expenses, keeping the fridge and pantries stocked with your favorites, the shelves full of your favorite books and magazines, and the bedroom decorated with things you like (including that one movie poster that makes him cringe).

And after maybe a year or two of dating, Tom would propose to you after a romantic candlelit dinner. Bearing a Harry Winston diamond ring, he would get down on one knee and ask if you'd make him the happiest man in the world by agreeing to marry him.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Tom can be described by many words, but gentle is not one of them. To most of the world he's one of the worst men alive. He keeps a stone cold demeanor, solely concentrating on executing his orders and plans in the most precise way possible (even if it involves taking several a few lives). To everyone, he doesn't care about the feelings of his subordinates and rarely changes facial expression (some even wonder if he blinks).

But for you? If you're feeling down after a horrible day, he'll hold you close and spoil you with ice cream until you're feeling better (after punching the living daylights out of whoever made you upset). If you're sick, he'll have the most excellent doctors taking care of you around the clock, and he'll remain at your bedside as often as he can. And when you're feeling a little playful, he'll laugh at your silly jokes and small pranks (even when he's the butt of them).

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

During formal business meetings, Tom usually likes to end things with a small, congratulatory hug.

But with you, Tom hugs you like it's the last time he'll ever hug you, holding you so close that he can smell your perfume and remember what his cheek feels like against yours. He hugs you when he comes to your flat after a long day/night, when he needs to leave for work, and even while you're doing work around the home.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You might be the first to say it while dating him, and depending on his mood, he might reply with a 'thank you' or 'I know'. But deep down, he's touched, and reciprocates after some time. He might whisper it to you when you're half-asleep.

Or, he might cave and just profess his love for you after an incident culminates in a near-death experience.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Very, very easily jealous. If Tom sees another person flirting with you in his vicinity or comes to know about someone making a move on you, he wastes no time in dealing with them. After a few days, you might hear about the person getting into an "accident" or being "relocated".

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If there's a height difference between you and Tom, he'll veer towards forehead kisses during everyday moments.

But over time, his kisses grow more passionate as he falls even harder in love with you. When you're alone, there's almost never a moment where his lips aren't on you - he likes to wake you up with a long, slow kiss, and give you another one when you

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

While he almost never thinks about having children of his own, he's fun with children when he needs to be, telling them fairy tales and playing hide-and-seek with them. He's also great with spoiling his associates' children, giving them sweets and toys during the holidays.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depending on how things went the night before, Tom doesn't come home until four or five in the morning. If you're asleep, he'll crawl into bed and lay next to you, silently admiring your beauty. (unless he's in the mood, then be prepared to be woken up in a more…intimate manner) He'll politely greet you when you wake up, and have some tea prepared for the both of you. Sometimes, he'll join you for breakfast.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Depending on how busy he is, there are times when Tom is away for several days at a time.

But on the nights where he is home, he'll arrange for a special dinner with you either at your flat or at a Michelin star restaurant, surprise you with a small gift, and simply talk to you about almost anything you'd like. He isn't always big on going out at night (outside of work) but he enjoys things like attending a play or watching a film at the cinema with you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He isn't one to open up very easily because he knows that trust must be earned. During your first meetings, he barely discloses anything about himself, calling himself a 'mere businessman'. But as things get serious between you two, he gradually reveals more things about his rough childhood, his family (some of whom are estranged), and the corrupt nature of his business.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Tom is easy to irritate (like if someone messes up his instructions), but it takes a while for him to actually lose his temper (shouting, firing bullets, and shoving things). And once he does lose his temper, no one is safe. It's basically Ragnarok.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Tom remembers everything about you including your favorite dessert(s), your favorite color(s), your favorite on-screen characters, your favorite suit of his, and your favorite tv-shows.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment was when you saw your first play together - a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Globe Theater. Every moment of it was etched into his mind, from the moment he saw you in your favorite gown, the drinks and hors d'oeuvres you shared before the show, and the numerous times he proudly introduced you as "my love" to his associates during intermission.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's very protective of you, always having one of his trusted subordinates keep an eye on you when he can't physically be with you. He'll have someone following you from a distance when you're at work/school, when you're out on errands, and when you're hanging out with friends or family.

He'd like to be protected by someone who isn't afraid to face authorities, someone who won't easily give in and spill valuable information.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tom is very, very precise when it comes to each and every action of his, and dates are no exception. Everything is planned to the last detail. Not a thing is designed to be out of place.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Tom is absolutely ruthless when it comes to dealing with those who betray him, or are suspected of leaking crucial information of his. He is not afraid to use torture (waterboarding, sleep deprivation, solitary confinement, burning with concentrated nitric acid) to confirm his suspicions. And if he catches someone of his leaking information to the government? Instant death, and instant disposal of the murder weapon.

And he is willing to use brute force and ugly tactics in front of those whom he holds close, (including you) as if to send a message, "This could be you too. If you think that you can get away with betraying me, you're a fool."

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Over his years of working in the Underworld, Tom's developed a taste for glamor and curated his own style. He understands the importance of making a great first impression, choosing the right clothes to boost one's own confidence, and grooming oneself on a regular basis. So, he makes an effort everyday to look his best, and chooses colors/garments that please you when the two of you are having a special night together.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Depending on how long you've been together, Tom would dearly miss you on the days where he can't be with you. Though he would keep a calm, stiff upper lip during his operations, in the back of his mind he'd yearn to be at your flat, holding you close while some music or an old film plays in the background.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Tom is an excellent ballroom dancer and loves attending Shakespeare plays. His favorite comedy is As You Like It and his favorite tragedy is Hamlet, and his favorite of the "histories" is Coriolanus. He loves to serenade you with Romeo's monologues, like whispering, "See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!" while you lean against the window with your chin in your hand.

(Also, his favorite flower is the white calla lily)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Excessive gossip or negative talk - like someone who constantly says bad things about other people behind their backs. The main reasons that Tom wouldn't like this are twofold: the first reason being that it doesn't convey a good impression about someone, and the second reason being that it would make him feel less safe. If this person is freely saying negative things about others to his face, what's the likelihood that they aren't saying negative things about him to other people?

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He sleeps three or four hours a night, and if he's alone, he literally looks like a corpse in a coffin. But if he's with you, he'll lay next to you with an arm draped across your waist and a small smile on his face.

Also, I'd like to ask a small favor of you, whomever is reading this. Tell me what name you would give Hiddleston's character in the Jaguar commercials, and I might use it when writing for him in the future.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #jaguar tom hiddleston #jaguar villains #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston imagines #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you

57 notes · View notes

detroitbecomeyandere · 2 years

Text

Commission piece

Summary: Cyrus has an issue with the new beat cop

CW: kidnapping, assult, kind of bondage, blood, degradation, slight misogyny, general yandere content

Word count: 3,082

Hate was a very strong word, but it was definitely what Cyrus feels towards you.

He hated how you felt like you deserved to be on the force; he hated that you felt like you were his equal. Cyrus firmly believed that humans could never be on his level, let alone a human female. From the moment you transferred to his unit, he despised you - you in that little uniform that hugged your body just a little too tight. He especially hated how his partner would stop what he was doing every time you walked by so that he could stare at your ass. Gavin was already one of the most disgusting men Cyrus had ever met, and the fact that Gavin thought he had the right to look at you the way he did made Cyrus feel the urge to slam Gavin’s face into his desk. Because as much as Cyrus hated to admit it, you belonged to him and no one else, even if you didn't know it yet.

It wasn't hard to find your beat; a small nice neighborhood that shouldn't even need a beat cop - yet here you are. It was almost precious, the idea that someone as dull as you could keep anyone safe when you couldn't even sense someone stalking you. Cyrus tells himself that he was following you to make sure you didn't get into too much trouble, that he should be the only one to lay a hand on your body after all. He keeps trying to tell himself that he was only doing this to make your life harder as he would throw rocks into windows or set buildings on fire, but truth has a way of coming out despite the lies he tells himself.

Currently, Cyrus sits in the shadows watching you try to calm down the hysterical woman, screeching about some peeping tom trying to violate her - as if that's actually why Cyrus was lurking outside her windows. He just needed to get you down here. Sure, he saw you earlier today, but you were like an itch he just couldn’t scratch. And after watching you flirt with another officer, he’d had enough; you had to know what you were doing in the way you teased him and acted as if you had the right to do so. He watched while you took the report, looked around and headed back to your squad car. But before you had the chance to unlock the door, everything faded to black and you fell.

The only thing you see when you come to is complete darkness; slightly out of it still, you can't tell if the room is just that dark or if there’s something over your eyes. You try to lift your head only to feel a sharp pain behind your eyes send you crashing back down. Out of instinct, you try to cradle your head, only to find out your hands are bound behind you. Trying to stay calm and reminding yourself of your training, you breathe in deep and listen for anything that might give you a hint as to where you are; but the room is so quiet that the only thing you could hear is your own heart trying to beat out of your chest. Before you can assess anything more, the sound of footsteps break your concentration; a lock clicks and you hear a door open and shut. The mysterious person walks towards you and pulls the blindfold off your face. The sudden change forces your eyes shut. Through squinted eyes, you look up at the person in front of you and let out a sigh of relief as the fear washes away.

"Cyrus, thank God! You have to get me out fast, before whoever did this comes back."

Cyrus takes a step closer to you and pauses. Suddenly, you are aware that you are completely nude. Embarrassed, your cheeks flush as you go to curl in on yourself as much as you can, to try and hide as much of your body as you could. Even though he was an android, it still felt odd to be bare in front of your superior officer. Taking another step closer to you, Cyrus steps in between your legs and runs his fingers over your collar bone, but he makes no move to untie your hands. You pull your shoulder away and shift uncomfortably.

"Hey Cyrus come on... stop it now. Get me out of here!"

His hand moves from your skin and up to your hair; once there, he grabs a handful and yanks your head to the side as the light beside his temple turns red.

"Ow what the fuck Cyrus?!"

"Shut up. I am so exhausted from hearing you talk." His head tilts to the side while he looks you over.

"Aren't you just precious, all bound and helpless. Hopefully after all this is over with, you will finally get it through your head just how low down the food chain you actually are." Condemnation drips from his words as Cyrus roughly grabs your chin and leans down your eye level.

"Nothing makes my thirium burn more than when an inferior thinks they are my equal, especially when it's an inferior like you. Humans are already weak but a woman? God you are so pathetically incompetent, it's a wonder how your species has made it this far."

His grip tightens as he yanks you up by your hair, forcing you to your feet before he throws you to the floor.

"It’s time for you to learn your fucking place - and that the only thing you are good for in this life is for me to empty my cock into." Reaching into his back pocket, Cyrus retrieves a baby pink collar and a matching leash.

You kick at him in an attempt to keep him away from you; you make contact with his leg but it does nothing to him. He catches your leg as you attempt to kick him again, twisting it until you are rolled over onto your stomach. The android crouches over you, threading his fingers through your hair and slams your face into the ground. Blood starts to cascade from your nose as you lay there, dazed for a moment.

"Keep fighting bitch, you aren't getting out of here and all it does is make me want to break you even more." Taking the advantage, Cyrus secures the collar around your neck, making it just a little too tight. And with it now safely attached, Cyrus stands and yanks the leash hard enough to make you choke.

"Please Cyrus, just let me leave. I promise I won't tell anyone about this, I'll leave the force if that’s what you want. Please..."

Tears are now flowing freely down your face - both the pain and the humiliation of having your arms cuffed behind your back - while your bare ass and cunt are on display for the android you once respected.

"Now, why would I let you go now? I have you right where I want you." Kneeling behind you, Cyrus runs his hands over your ass and gives it a slight squeeze. His right hand disappears for a moment, only for it to come back down and strike your flesh. A yelp forces its way past your lips and that yelp turns into a cry as the hand comes down harder. Cyrus continues to abuse your ass and relishes in every pained noise that comes from you, only stopping when you begin to choke on your tears.

Taking a moment, Cyrus admires his handiwork as his eyes travel down to find your slit glistening.

"Well well! Would you look at that kitten? You seem to be enjoying all this after all." Pulling the leash back, Cyrus forces your head off the floor as he pushes two fingers inside you; you groan at the sudden intrusion, a wet sound making its way to your ears as you are probed from behind.

"Dripping wet, you're just a fucking slut aren't you?" The only thing you can do is shake your head in disagreement and mumble out a broken no, earning you another slap across your burning backside. "When your master asks you a question, I expect a verbal response. Do I make myself clear?"

Swallowing a sob, you squeak out a weak "Yes!" back to him only to once again be met with a hit that pushes that sob right back out.

Thinking quickly, you respond back this time with a defeated "Yes, master..."

Behind you, Cyrus gives a soft hum in acknowledgement. He loosens his hold on the leash, and your head sinks back to the floor. Both his hands return to your stinging ass, causing you to flinch and your whole body to tense, expecting another hit. To your relief, you’re met with a gentle touch as Cyrus lightly rubs his hands across them, slightly soothing the burn before his hands travel further down and reach your inner thighs and graze your sensitive lips.

In a sudden motion, Cyrus flips you over and places you onto your back, causing your ass to burn. It forces your bound arms to take your full weight as you lay on them. Cyrus grabs your thighs and forces them apart, and immediately, he buries his face into your cunt. His tongue pushes into your wet and throbbing hole, and he groans as he savors your taste. You try to keep him away by closing your thighs, only for them to be pushed flat to the floor, which puts even more pressure on your arms. He gives you a few kitten licks before he latches his lips around your clit and starts to suck.

With no warning, two of his fingers invade you again and he begins to thrust them into your dripping cunt, curling them to brush against your g-spot everytime he pushes back in. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stifle the moans that are trying to escape as the pressure starts to build in your stomach. You try to think of anything but the android going down on you, but every thought is pushed away almost immediately as all your nerves start to come alive.

Not liking that you're ignoring him, Cyrus grazes his teeth along your sensitive nub and pushes a third finger into you; your eyes roll back as a breathless moan escapes from you. The pressure inside you continues to build while your hips try to roll against his mouth instinctually, seeking out more of the stimulation you were growing desperate for. Cyrus hums in approval and begins to stretch your pulsating walls. Before you know it, the tension in your stomach snaps and you are sent over the edge. Your whole body seizes up as your back arches off the floor and your thighs tremble. Cyrus pulls his fingers out of you, and you mentally kick yourself when you hear the pitiful whine that escapes you as your aching walls are left empty.

Still between your legs, Cyrus smirks up at you. "Such a little whore, telling me no and still getting off on all this. Guess you know that deep down, this is all you’re good for too. Now, let's finally put that mouth to use - but don't worry, I won't leave this slutty pussy empty for long."

His words don't have time to fully process as he reaches from behind him and pulls a large pink vibrator out from seemingly nowhere. Ignoring your protests, Cyrus pushes it into you slowly, allowing you to feel every bump and ridge as it's forced inside you. His eyes stare intensely as he watches your twitching cunt suck it in inch by inch; a steady hand on your hip keeps you in place as the vibrator bottoms out inside you.

Once it's seated fully inside you, Cyrus flicks it on. Your body twitches and your back arches as your over sensitive walls are assaulted again. Wrapping his hand around your leash, he jerks you forward and forces you to your knees. He grabs you by your shoulders to keep you from falling flat on your face again. His hand travels up from your shoulders and wipes some of the drying blood off your chin. He slips his thumb past your lips and rests it on your soft tongue for a moment while his free hand makes its way into his pants and pulls his dick out.

“Now that you’ve had your fun kitten, it’s time to show your master just how thankful you are. Be good because there’s plenty of milk in it for you.” He strokes himself for a moment before removing his thumb and slowly pressing his cock into your mouth.

After pushing half of his length in, his head rolls back as he rests it on your tongue, appreciative of how soft and warm your mouth is. Cyrus strokes your cheek almost lovingly as he watches the rest of his dick disappear between your lips. Licking his own, he pushes the rest of himself into your mouth as his tip grazes the back of your throat. Your gag reflex makes your throat tighten around him and the muffled sobs and gasps coming from you forces a groan from him. Taking a moment, the android leaves his cock on your soft appendage as he tries to contain himself. This moment was all he had thought about for months, and he wasn't going to let it pass by him so quickly.

With a hiss, Cyrus pulls out of your mouth and leaves the tip resting on your tongue for a moment before he pushes back into you. As his cock rests inside your mouth, you moan around him, sending vibrations up his sensitive dick. His hands slide into your hair, gripping the side of your head as he starts to roll his hips into your mouth over and over. Starting at a steady pace and building from there, every stroke was smooth as he just took in the balminess of your mouth. "Fuck, you really are perfect for this kitten. I knew that you were made to be used like this."

His grip on your hair turns harsh as the android picks up his speed, making sure to hit the back of your throat with every thrust. Your eyes water as tears roll down your face and mix with your spit. Shame starts to fill you up as you realize the knot in your stomach is beginning to tighten again. You shut your eyes and try to ignore the sound of his grunts, a buzzing noise coming from between your soaked thighs.

Cyrus cracks his eyes open and peers down on you; your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are screwed shut and he does not like that. He grabs the remote and flicks the speed on the vibrator up and revels in the new vibrations that travel up his body as his hand finds its place on your head as he redoubles his efforts.

He keeps using your face as his personal fuck toy, and if there was a possibility for you to feel more ashamed and filthy, you didn't want to find out what it was.

With a final thrust Cyrus dumps his load down your throat, forcing another gag out of you while he emptied himself into your stomach.

He stays like that as he feels you struggle to swallow around his still hard member. Once he's satisfied, Cyrus pulls himself out of you and pushes you down to the floor again and without giving you a moment to catch your breath, he pulls the vibe out from you and lines his hard cock up with your twitching entrance.

Your bound arms now are searing in pain as they’re now not only crushed under your weight, but Cryus’s added weight as well. He pauses for a moment as his eyes roll back; now that he was here, inside you, he never wanted to leave.

Underneath him, you try to shift and relieve some of the pain developing in your shoulders. Instead, it pulls him out of his thoughts long enough for him to pull himself out and ram back inside you. The sudden jolt sends a sharp pain through your torso as a cry makes it past your lips; your painful yelps motivate him as one hand grips your right thigh, pressing it against your chest, and the other squeezes your breast.

Your nails dig into your palms and you shut your eyes, trying to be anywhere else at the moment but a harsh yank on the collar stops all other thoughts in their tracks.

“Are you fucking ignoring me again?” he groans as he pulls your head up. “I fill up your slutty cunt again and this is the thanks I get?” He stops his movements and pulls out of you before rolling you over onto your knees, your bruised nose making contact with the floor causing it to trickle blood again. “Well, since you want to be so ungrateful, we’re just going to have to treat you like the bitch you are, won’t we?”

You try to form an apology but before a single word can get out he pulls the collar harder until the smooth leather bites into your skin and begins to choke you. Without warning Cyrus slams back into you and behind to fuck you harder; the sudden pleasure and the lack of air causes black spots to dot your vision as the forced pleasure builds. “You’re staying on your knees and I’m going to fuck you into the floor and you are going to take all of me like the fucking whore you are.”

Cyrus yanks on your collar and forces your head off the floor and your vision goes white and the knot snaps. Cyrus smirks as he feels your cum leaks over his cock, he bites his lip and leans over you.

“Besides,” he smiles. “It’s what you’re meant for. You’ve been enjoying yourself. And now, you’ll get to be happy the rest of your life. Because you’ll never do anything but fucking ever again.”

And as he starts plowing you as rough as he can, the pain, the overstimulation - it’s all too much for you to handle. You start losing your vision as the world turns to black, and the last sound you hear is of him laughing at you…

#detroit become human #yandere #dbh rk900 #dbh cyrus #lemon content #commission #this is the longest thing ive ever written #im so happy with it #beau

88 notes · View notes