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#feelin old and tired
strigital · 1 year
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ayo! long time no see, beanos 🫘 so whilst i'm taking a break from any non-essential for my survival things like social media due to my mental health doing a lil bit of a "fukc u stoopid brain 😠" thingie, so much so that i completely ignored my own b-day this year (your old girl over here is already twenty fucking seven jesuschrist) Huion - who's drawing tablets i've been scoping out for a while now - decides to have a whole ass b-day sale for all of their tablets - a whopping 35% off - as well as free shipping. and lemme tell ya, fellas - never in my life have i made a faster decision to spend the entirety of my monthly wages on a piece of tech and never before did my brain went from suicidal depression to happy puppy on his way to the park mode! ya girl is buying herself an entire Huion Kamvas 16 (2021)!! 🥳✨
TL;DR - my depressed ass who skipped her own b-day is getting a surprise gift from myself as Huion decide to also celebrate their own b-day rn!
EDIT: bought a refurb Kamvas 13 in purple instead cause it's cheaper/smaller/looks cute and so far I'm in love 🥹
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mechawolfie · 11 months
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lxh oc his name is orin. for now
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weirdlizard26 · 6 months
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i think i should be allowed to redo my teenage years as a treat i think i just need to be 11 again and then everythings gonna be ok
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bogkeep · 2 years
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you've heard of "things are going too well for me, something horrible is going to happen soon," now get ready for "things are going too well for me, what if it's at the expense of everything else in the world going badly" and it's like. grabs OCD brain by the scruff. no, you don't get to do this, there is no correlation, you are not a fucking billionaire whose success is built upon the bones of others, you're just a regular person with extremely mid-level ambitions and you're doing okay, do not punish yourself for things going your way, they do it just because they do, no magics about it. sit down
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wrathiincarnate · 1 year
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bro ive been gone from tumblr for so long how the hell do i do replies now smdh
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seventh-district · 3 months
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#Seven’s Public Diary#vent post#vent#cw vent post#cw vent#cw injury#ahaha ha ha i am in pain :)#catch me hobbling around the kitchen in my robe and fuzzy slippers feelin’ and lookin’ like a feeble little old lady#but i’m breathing hard and hissing in pain like a wounded animal lmao. i was worse on myself than i thought i was yesterday jfc#couldn’t find my back brace & couldn’t use my cane bc one hand was useless and i need the other to like. do stuff. so today was really fun#just cleaned the bathroom yesterday and i walk in there after waking up today and it’s a fucking mess again#istg drunk ppl are messier than children. i didn’t clean a goddamn inch of it bc i physically can’t now and it’s not my mess!#i am tired of cleaning up messes that i don’t make!! i am tired of living with messy fucking people!!!#did have to do laundry tho cause he can’t operate a fucking washing machine we’ve had for many years#made the mistake of assuming that he had the common sense to empty his pockets before throwing the shit in there#and i was not gonna reach in there and check the nasty ass clothes for myself#so imagine my dreadful surprise when i opened the machine when the cycle ended and his fucking wallet is sitting in there :)))#spend 20 minutes carefully peeling apart papers and laying everything out to dry#istg i hate when men lack basic life skill knowledge bc ‘oh no that’s woman’s work’ … i will bite and i will scream and i will maim#dog shat on the couch and peed on the floor and honestly i can’t even be mad. if i had no other way of displaying my discontent with the-#-current volatile and toxic state of the energy in this household i would do the same thing. can’t even blame the little guy#i just wish this house wasn’t 80% carpet. i hate carpet. carpet is my nemesis. who tf thought inventing carpet was a good idea#anyways everything is done now. and everything is fine. and everyone is asleep. now i can eat my mashed potatoes in peace#got a lil adventurous and put some turmeric in there… we shall see how it tastes as soon as i feel like i can move again lmao#i fucking hate when my back gets this bad. i can handle and even derive a weird enjoyment from most injuries but this is just upsetting#i don’t like the vulnerability of having a weak core. brings back bad memories#*sighs wistfully* if only i had two big strong automatons to tend to my every need and carry me away to bed when i overwork myself#one day i’ll pick that [N]MbD WIP back up. one day. but i’ve given that AU enough attention for now. it’s ES’s turn#at least my attempt to pick that fic back up is going well. the brainworms r wiggling#okay i think. i am done complaining. for now
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umbrellahat07 · 7 months
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Just found out I have an iron deficiency from donating blood lol. Explains why I've felt like a sickly victorian lady dying of consumption for the past few days since starting my period.
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vanillabat99 · 10 months
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I think I am slowly accepting that I will never be able to be "fully independent". Even though I am living with my family, I still require help and care that they aren't able to provide due to having work or school. There have been many times, especially recently, where I have been stuck in bed, alone, and hungry, with nobody able to help me. I am not able to leave the house on my own, I struggle to make phonecalls, I can't remember important medical information or insurance information, I am rarely able to make meals for myself. I can barely wash my own hair. I don't qualify for any kind of homecare, since I live with my family, and I don't have anyone who can visit me to help like that.
I don't think I will ever be as independent as I hoped I would be. I wanted to move out, have a job, go to university. As time goes on, I'm less and less sure I will be able to finish highschool. It is very difficult trying to figure out what I am able to do. I have had to give up on many plans and dreams, and I'm not sure what I have left to work with.
Disability is hard. I know it looks like I sleep all day and do nothing, but I am simply trying to survive in a world that was not built with me in mind. After lots of time and effort, I want to be alive and have a life that makes me happy, and I want to figure out how to have that. I want to know what "happy" can look like for me. I want to know what my options are, if I can have a place of my own, if I can get help when I need it.
I want to be alive. The world makes it hard, but I want to be alive.
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screampied · 4 days
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just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔
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៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'
wc. 2.0k
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toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,
his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”
“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..
“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”
you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”
“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”
“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”
“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.
“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”
with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”
“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”
you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”
“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”
“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”
toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”
you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”
“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”
“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”
leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”
in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like … both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”
“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”
for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—
but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.
“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”
a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”
“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”
“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.
toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.
toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.
he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.
you return the gesture,
closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.
life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.
after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”
with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’
“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”
“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”
your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”
“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”
“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.
toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”
you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”
“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.
“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”
“i .. love you too toji.”
he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.
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certifiedcodbabygirl · 5 months
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Baby's first fever
Simon Riley x Reader w/ daughter (Lizzy)
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(Photo credit to @ave661, go check her renders out, they're really good)
Parenthood is a terrifying experience, especially as first time parent. Even with preparation, all the books, and a loving husband. Lizzy had been sniffly the night before, but not too terribly. Nothing of concern though.
So imagine your surprise when you go to check on your 6 month old in the morning and you feel her head is hot.
"Ohh no no no baby" You say, panicked as you gently pick her up. Her little whimpers practically break your heart as you take her to your shared with Simon. You push the door open and see that Simon is already getting dressed, pulling his shirt off.
"Si she's sick, like really sick" You say, trying to not cry, anxiety rising. Fevers as an adult or even as a teenager are easier to fight off but as a baby? It truly is cause for concern.
He holds his arms out to hold Lizzy and puts the back of his hand to her forehead, frowning at the warmness. He gently swipes his thumb on her cheek and kisses her forehead.
"You not feelin good, sweetheart?" He asks her, "come on, let's get ya some medicine, hm?"
He leans over and kisses you on the forehead, "C'mon mama"
He walks to the bathroom, with you short behind, and opens the medicine. He hands Lizzy off to you, and opens the medicine cabinet.
"Glad we got this, huh?" He smiles slightly, opening the bottle of kid's ibuprofen. He Snaps one of the little tablets in half shows the little piece to Lizzy, smiling at her.
"Open up, love" he says softly, "Gonna make ya feel better"
He gently parts her lips and puts the small tablet on her tongue. She immediately starts to suck on the tablet, nose slightly scrunching from the weird tastes. He runs his fingers through her soft curls, kissing her head. He notices you trying to keep calm, your lip twitching slightly and obviously keeping back tears.
"She'll be okay, just a lil sick, ya?", He tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses you, "C'mon, lets give her a bath"
He sits you down on the toilet while he runs an slightly cooler bath so that she doesn't go into shock. While he runs the bath, you look down at Lizzy. Her face is a little red and her nose is runny. Your eyes well up in tears. Logically you know she'll be okay, but she's so little.
You never thought a baby with Simon would/ could happen, yet here she was. Brown curls, big brown eyes just like her dad's, a shining reflection of the man you love. Nothing prepared you for the overwhelming love you felt when you first held her. The click of motherhood that you instantly had when her skin touched yours causing you to cry. Your sweet girl.
You snap out your thoughts as you hear Simon call for you.
"Hm?" you say half mindedly, looking up at him.
"Bath's ready"
You hum in acknowledgement, standing up and setting her down on the counter, undressing her. You check the water temperature, and gently set her in the baby bath basket you got for her. She splashes a little, feeling cold in the room temperature water due to her fever. She whimper and fusses and you sniffle again.
"I know baby, I know", you coo at her, "You'll be okay, my love. Just gotta get you clean, yeah?"
The bath goes smoothly (with a few tears let's be honest). You pass her off to Simon as you go off to get her crib sheets and blankets changed out and pick out her outfit. Simon walks in with her in her little towel and a fresh diaper. You help change her into her clothes and go to the kitchen to make her a half bottle of warm formula.
You grab the bottle and head towards the nursery but notice he's laying on the couch with Lizzy on his chest. Standing in the doorway, you can see how tired they both are, Lizzy sick and Simon, well, REASONS 👀. You go back to the kitchen and put the bottle into the fridge for later. You gently tiptoe into the living room so you don't wake them up, and cuddle up to Simon's arms.
You check Lizzy's breathing and forehead temperature before allowing yourself to relax into him. His arm pulls you into him as he kisses your forehead.
"She's gonna be okay, baby. L'ts get some rest"
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kakkyslildiary · 2 years
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m tired but also slipping into little space
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frannyzooey · 3 months
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Short Days, Long Nights: 18
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Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: extremely soft
A/N: An epilogue to end our story, I'll reblog later with all of my thank yous. For now, this final chapter is dedicated to @mrsmando ❤ and her big giant heart, for whom this story wouldn't exist without.
Series Masterlist
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FIVE YEARS LATER 
“Honey?”
Placing his keys on the table in the entryway, Joel tilts his head to the side and listens. Silence greets him instead, but it’s a warm one. Peaceful.  
Sunlight streams through the open windows in the living room, and he walks through the beams of soft light towards the back of the house, passing through a scene of domestic disarray: a blanket tossed over the couch, toys scattered on the living room floor, small shoes that he bartered for last week kicked off and tossed on the stairs. Bending down to scoop them up with a sigh, he carries them into the kitchen. Placing them on the table, he looks around for any sight of you. 
The backdoor ajar, he heads into the backyard. 
“Honey?”
“Yea?”
Calling to him from the middle of the garden, he spots you with a smile – right as a small body crashes through the bushes with a shriek. Running straight for him, Joel automatically holds his hands out to catch June, but she looks behind her and screams, dodging his reach instead. Another child comes through and then another; a game of tag that’s crossed borders between the houses. 
“Hey! Stop runnin’ through! Just go around em’!”
You stand from your place in the garden, picking your way carefully through the sprouting plants. Your face and shoulders come into view first, and then your stomach – the soft swell only just beginning to show. At the sight of it, he visibly softens and comes over to help you, lending you his hand. 
“You sound just like a cranky old man,” you tease, brushing the dirt from your knees. Looking up at him with a squint against the sun, you grin and mime shaking a fist. “Stay off my lawn!”
“Well I am an old man,” he says wryly, defending himself. “Besides, all I need is for a kid to get hurt bustin’ through those bushes like that.”
He looks over his shoulder and surveys the damage for a moment; the squall of children slightly muted from the front yard. Bringing his eyes back to you, he steps closer and reaches for your bump, splaying his touch over it. 
“How we feelin’ today?”
“Oh god,” you answer with a sigh. “Tired.” 
Letting your head drop forward, you rest it on his shoulder. His hands glide smoothly from your stomach to your hips, encouraging you to lean into him and you do, pressing your cheek against his chest. Warmth radiates through the material of his shirt, and you close your eyes and breathe him in. Sunshine, sweat, the faint smell of the stables and the horse he rode today while on patrol lingers in the fabric, and your body relaxes against his. 
“How was your day?” you murmur. 
“Good. Tommy n’ Maria wanna know if we can come over for dinner this week. Guess she’s been askin’ for that dessert you made last time, wants to know if you can bring it over again. What was it called?”
“Brown sugar pie.” You burrow even closer against him, and his arms slip around your back in an embrace. 
“That’s the one.”
“I think I have everything I need for it. I can do that.”
“I told him I would let em’ know tomorrow. Got patrol with him again at dawn.”
You look up at him with a pout. “So early again?”
He says nothing, bending to press his mouth to your forehead. 
“I miss you in bed when you leave so early in the morning.”
His kiss drops lower, catching your nose.  
“You know I like curling up next to you. You’re like a human furnace.”
The edge of his mouth lifts. “I know, I like it too. But duty calls and all that.”
Presenting your lips for a kiss, he grants a lingering, full press of his mouth to yours and then pulls back. 
“You need me to carry anything into the house?”
“I don’t need that kind of help just yet,” you reply. 
He puts his hands up in defense with a smirk, taking a step back. “Just askin’”.
You wave him away, turning back towards the garden and he turns to head into the house, calling over his shoulder. 
“I’m gonna take a shower. Is he sleepin’ inside?”
“Yes,” you call back. “Try to be quiet when you go in. He kept me up most of the night, so I know he’s tired too.”
Nodding, he catches the screen door before it smacks the frame behind him and quietly heads upstairs.  
The bedroom is scattered with the same lived-in mess that downstairs is: the quilt thrown back over rumpled sheets, his sweats on the floor, a scatter of items on the dresser. Reaching over his head, he tugs his shirt off in a smooth motion, and tosses it on the bed before sitting down with a soft groan, bending forward to unlace his boots. 
His bare back is littered with long ago healed scars, one of them pulling tight across his flank. Sitting up with a stretch, he rubs at it with his hand, the muscle underneath sore from so much time spent in the saddle. Heading into the bathroom, he tosses the rest of his clothes into the laundry basket and steps into the shower, letting the water beat down on his lower back.
Four years in, and he still lets out a sigh of appreciation every time. 
Done and dressed in fresh clothes, he pads around the bedroom in bare feet gathering the rest of the laundry. A mix of his and yours, a threadbare blankie that needs washing, a sleeper on the dresser. Tossing it all into the basket, he goes into June’s room to do the same. 
Picking up the small guitar she plays with while he practices on his own, he places it carefully against the corner of the wall and gathers the laundry she’s left at the foot of the bed. The room reflects the girl herself: purple walls, drawings taped up on every surface, a butterfly suncatcher that hangs in her window scattering rainbows over the floor. 
Hearing muted babbles from the next room over, Joel grabs a shirt off the floor before heading over to the closed door. Opening it, he’s greeted with a grin. 
“Hey big guy," he says lowly, setting the basket on the floor, peering over the side of the crib. Built by Joel shortly after you arrived in Jackson, he thumbs at the mending it needs on the corner, thinking about how it’ll need to be moved into the bedroom in about five months. 
Still puffy with sleep, the boy’s face resembles yours so much that Joel’s eyes crinkle with affection. “You ready to get up?”
One hand holding the basket and the other one dangling to let his son grasp it, they slowly navigate the stairs together, entering the kitchen just as June comes through the back door with you right behind her. 
“Someone woke up, I see,” you coo, scooping the toddler into your arms. 
“You done playin’ tag, June Bug?” Joel asks, squeezing her shoulder. 
“Yea. The other kids had to go home for lunch. Can you make me something to eat, Daddy?”
Routine takes over, the afternoon sliding into the evening, twilight descending around the house. The picture window in the front is a beacon of light; figures moving around inside. Dinner, playtime, bathtime. A freshly bathed June and Henry – Hank, for Hank Williams – in Joel’s lap on the couch while he reads them a book, the gentle clink of dishes being washed sounding from the kitchen.
After the kids are tucked in for the night, you find him on the porch. Pulling his flannel tight around your torso, you take a seat next to him and he wordlessly drapes his arm across your shoulders, tucking you close. Handing him a well worn mug with an owl on it, he hums with approval when he discovers the whiskey inside. 
“I saw the midwife today,” you say, spreading your fingers over your bump. “She said everything looks good so far, and gave me something for the heartburn.”
“Is it still real bad?” he asks, and you nod. 
“She says that it’s a sign it’s gonna be a girl,” you smile at him, shrugging. “I don’t remember having it too bad with June though, so who knows.”
Watching your fingers smooth your shirt over the small bump with a rub, the action moves in time with the slow rocking of the bench. Another sip of whiskey, and Joel thinks about how much has changed between then and now: a fleeting image of your younger face, a picture of a river, a cabin just beyond.
The comfortable silence between the two of you lets his mind continue to roam, the memories coming in flashes: the trek across the country, the simultaneous relief and on-edge anxiety he felt when the walls surrounding Jackson first came into view. A familiar voice calling through the fog, one he thought he’d never hear again. Favoring his left side due to a deep gash still healing from an encounter with raiders, warmth slipped from his eyes as he clutched his brother tight, unwilling to let go. 
The same brother he saw just this morning, and who he’ll see again tomorrow. 
“You’re so different than the guy I left all those years ago,” his brother said later on, and Joel had said nothing, just lacing his fingers with yours. 
He is different. 
The years have softened him around the edges, or maybe the kids have. Or maybe it’s you.  
Relaxing into him, his cheek comes to rest on the top of your head.
“You tired, honey?”
“Yea.” The word slips out, the edges rounded. “But keep rocking me?”
Fireflies spark and dance in the air, the wisps of a song caught on the wind from the neighbor playing their radio next door. Your profile is highlighted with the softened light from inside, your cheeks plump with health and happiness and enough food, the frown lines from ever present anxiety smoothed away years ago. He gently collects the soft hair at your temple with a soothing stroke and your eyes flutter shut. 
His boot pushing off the wooden floorboards of the porch, he rocks and presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, letting the gratefulness pass through him. 
The old life feels like a dream, or maybe this is the dream – with a wife sitting safe and sound beside him, on the porch of a home filled with his children. 
Everything possible because you imagined it possible. Everything here because of you.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, and you nod, not moving. 
The edge of his mouth lifting in a smile, he tucks you in closer and rocks.
THE END
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llamagoddessofficial · 4 months
Note
How would Farmer Sans handle hearing that MC was sick? Maybe they usually meet up a certain time while managing their morning chores and they’re just.. not there, only for him to later find that they’re bedridden
"hey, pumpkin."
The sound of Sans' voice, regardless of how soft it was, made you panic.
You sat bolt upright from your spot curled into the couch, jolting out of your strange fever dream. A cooling pack fell off your head, and a blanket you didn’t remember grabbing slipped from your shoulders to your lap.
Immediately, you could tell that you weren’t on your home couch. You didn’t recognise the blanket someone had tucked you under. You weren’t cold, you couldn’t smell the usual mix of dust and gradually fading damp - in fact, there were many wonderful scents mingling in the warm air, soup and tea and a sweet bread aroma that made your stomach rumble. 
It certainly wasn’t where you expected to wake up, after you fell asleep in front of the dodgy TV once the painkillers finally kicked in. This was someone else’s couch. And after a few bleary moments, you recognised it all. 
... It was Sans’ couch. You were in his house.
You looked up a little to see the man himself, as handsome as ever, leaning over the back of the sofa and looking at you. A gentle flicker of relief passed over his face. 
“rise and shine,” he said, voice as warm as the room. “how’re you feelin’?”
Huh? 
...
Your eyes widened. "S-Sans!?"
Bad decision. At such a sudden vocalisation, your body decided that was the perfect moment to send you into a horrendous coughing fit that made the inside of your throat feel like someone had gone at it with sandpaper.
Sans just put a big gentle hand on your back, letting you work through it, quiet as you hacked your lungs up.
Eventually the coughing eased off; once you had control of your body again, you turned your gaze back to him.
"Y-you...” Your cheeks were starting to burn. “why am I...?"
“you weren’t answerin’ the phone. i got worried.” As he spoke, you kept messing with your shirt, nervously pulling it down over yourself. “came to check on you, an’ you were totally out of it, could barely answer me. i had to go work, but figured i should bring you somewhere me an’ pap can keep an eye on you.”
... Oh no. You put your hands over your face, slowly getting quieter and quieter as the situation dawned on you. “Y-you really didn’t need to...”
“course we did. ain’t safe for you to be so sick all on yer own.”
This was a nightmare. Now, on top of being sick, you were absolutely mortified at Sans seeing you in this state. Tired, achy, sweaty... you were dressed in a stained old shirt and pyjama pants, visibly unshowered and pretty much as ungroomed as one could get. You distinctly remembered throwing stuff on your floor before you fell asleep, too weak to get up and go put it in the garbage - empty blister packs and used, crumpled tissues. Did he see all your dirty trash when he came to find you?
You wanted to melt into the couch. He had seen you delirious and ill, at your absolute greasiest and grossest. Stars, what did he think of you now?
“I-I’ve been out for hours?” you asked.
“mhm.”
Your whole world was coming down around your ears. Why couldn’t Sans have just let you die at home, where no one would see your shame?
“you didn't tell me you were sick,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear. There was a strangely... sullen edge to his tone? 
Your face was on fire. You had already intruded so much on him and his brother’s kindness over the last few weeks. Sans had repaired your stove and water pipes, bought you fresh food from the farm, helped fix a leak in the roof, not to mention when you asked him to stay the night like you were a frightened baby. Now here you were; being sick and disgusting right in the middle of his house. 
Before he could say anything else, you pushed the blanket off you, swinging your legs over the side of the couch and scrambling to your feet.
“I-I should get home,” you said, hoarse.
Immediately, Sans’ brows raised. You didn't look at him for long, walking unsteadily and trying your best to concentrate on not tipping over.
“I’m so sorry to intrude. I’ll just-”
... Your feet went out from underneath you. 
You squeaked, loudly - but Sans didn’t care, he scooped you up like you didn’t weigh a thing. To him, you probably didn’t weigh a thing. You could feel his massive strength through his clothes, and you immediately knew that if he wanted to, he could’ve thrown you straight into the air like a child.
You couldn’t tell if it was the height that was dizzying, how close your face was to his, or if you were just way weaker right now than you realised. But immediately your hands balled in his shirt.
"... easy," he murmured, one arm under your thighs. "i don't bite."
... Your face filled with so much heat it felt as if the tips of your ears were going to set alight. You tried to say something, but when you opened your mouth, literally nothing came out. Not a sound. All you could do was hold on to his shoulders.
Sans’ voice became normal again, jokingly stern. “sorry. not goin’ anywhere on my watch, pet. you need to rest. look at you - yer burnin' up.”
Your whole body had tensed up. But not out of fear. You just stared into his eyelights.
He very gently sat you back down onto the couch, putting the cold pack into your hands. “you stay right there, ok? i’ll getcha some soup. it should be ready by now.”
"O-ok," you helplessly replied.
Sans moved away, disappearing into the kitchen.
...
There wasn't much else you could do, but lay down and put the cooling pack back on your head... trying to figure out how to make your heart slow down.
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jokingmisfit · 15 days
Text
I Just (Don't) Need Help (Part 1/2)
Tumblr media
Yandere Batfam x Disabled Female Reader
Warnings- disabled reader, manipulation, reader is in pain, very light yandere themes
Notes- The disability isn’t named because I wanted to make it as inclusive as possible, although it is heavily based on my experiences because I only really know what I’ve experienced. The reader and Damien are both high school seniors, cause I said so. Reader lives alone because who needs parents?
It was the pain. That God awful pain that made you unable to eat, or sleep, or think. Everything in your body screaming at you to quit and give up, but also begging for help. In the end, however, there was nothing you could do.
You've tried, God did you try. You tried to work through it. You've tried to get help, but person after person, and doctor after doctor ignored your pain, ignored your symptoms and left you stranded in this unbearable hell. 
You just wanted peace. You just wanted to live without this unending pain. You found it confusing how a human can constantly go through so much pain and not die from it.
You were behind in school. You've lost another job. You were so goddamn tired. 
You pulled the phone off your in-stand. Sending a quick text to your friend Damien. You ask him if there were any important notes you missed at school and if he felt like sending you a picture of them. You let him know you’re fine, just sick, and hoping that’ll calm the quantity of texts he has sent you.
You have to be careful with him, Damien, he's easily irritated and highly intelligent. You’ve told him about your disabilities, but  you try to not let the pain show. You know he knows something, because he'll press you for information on yourself and stare you down when you refuse to do certain things. He knows it’s worse than you let on, but he doesn’t press like the others.
The text was only slightly changed from one you sent a few weeks ago. You didn’t have the energy to write a whole new text so you copied an old one, only changing it so Damien didn’t catch on and think the flare up was too bad. 
Despite only taking a minute or so, it already took all the energy you had left in you. Throwing your phone to the side, you tried to get comfortable, and you drift right back to a restless sleep.
~
A loud pounding woke you from your queasy rest. You wondered if you could slip back into that sweet dark nothingness, but with the noise being made you knew it’d be useless.
You’d gathered all the bearings you could, and a blanket for good measure, and made your way to your front door. Before you even got there, however, it was already opening. You stood there deadpanned as Jason looks up at you from his bent position; clearly finishing picking your lock. 
Dick smiles at you with an awkward laugh and greets you. “Heya… sorry for the intrusion, princess.” He chuckles nervously again. “Damien said you skipped school and stopped answering his texts and everyone got pretty worried soo, here we are!”
“Yeah, okay.” You say with a sigh and go sit on your couch.
Jason and Dick share a concerned look at your exhausted form. Frowns perching on Jason's face, and a worried smile on Dicks. 
“Sooo,” Jason started. “You feelin alright there, doll? Ya look pretty… bad?” He awkwardly asks you.
He and Dick sit on the couch with you while Dick quietly scolds him about telling you, you look bad. If it was for the lightness in your head you’d laugh a little at the brotherly behavior, but for now you opt to lay your head on Jason's shoulder once he’s settled on the seat.
“t’s jus a flare up…” You whisper out to them.
You really didn’t want to have a whole conversation. The urge to down all of the pain medicine in your cabinet comes back up. The need to just get the pain to go away. No, you didn’t want to die, but you wanted the pain to stop. You wanted to be able to appreciate your friends coming over to check on you. With all the overwhelming symptoms you couldn’t appreciate much.
With your eyes closed and head on Jason's shoulders, you had missed another look Jason and Dick shared. A mixture of annoyance, concern, and dark thoughts showing clearly through their eyes.
“Didn’t you go to a doctor for that?” Dick asks you with an irritated tone.
“Said he doesn believe me…” You tell him. “Think I wan drugs or somethin.”
Jason scoffs loudly at this. “You’re a drug seeker now huh?”
“‘Mm parently.” You reply.
Dick moves closer and rubs his hand lovingly across your back. You humm with appreciation at the action. Your exhausted form relaxes a bit more into the soft cushion. You move your head and hide it a bit more into Jason's chest. 
“Maybe,” Dick starts softly. “You should come stay with us for a while?”
You sigh in frustration. “Already told you guys ‘m not gonna use you like that.” You state angrily. “You’re my friens not a resource for me ta use.”
“I know, I know!” Dick defends, throwing his hands up in defense and laughing nervously. “It’s just, we’ve got tons of money and can get you an actually good doctor. Y’know one that’ll actually listen to your needs, birdie.” He explains passionately.
“Besides,” Jason chimes in. “You’re like family, hunny. We want to help you out. And Alfred has been dyin to see ya again.”
“I don’t wan to…” You tell them.
Jason scoffs. “Why not?”
This situation was too much for you right now. The pain you felt weighed you down and made it harder to hold yourself together. The little bit of poise you had was bubbling off you like melted flesh leaving you at the barest version of yourself, and that self was angry and confused.
You didn’t get why every time you got sick or had a flare up they got like this. Urging you to come live with them ‘cause “it’s easier” and “they can help” or because “you a kid” and “you shouldn’t be living alone”. What do they know? They were adopted by a billionaire and have a huge family. They don’t know what it’s like to feel the way you do. Of course some things they understand, but a lot of it seems they don’t.
It was irritating for them as well. They want to help you, but you always refuse. It always ends in an argument and you push them away for a while until you forget why you were mad in the first place. It was a tiring loop that everyone was becoming sick of.
You lean forward and out of both the mens touches. “I don‘t know why!” You sluggishly shout. “I jus don’t wan to. I don’t know why it’s always a fight with you guys… Jst let me rest please! I’m in pain ‘n all you wanna do is try and hold a conversation that we all know will only end in irritation.” You breathlessly tell them.
You stand on unsteady feet and start walking back towards your room. The stiffness and anger making you feel even worse.
Why can’t they try and see things the way you do?
Of course, they were wondering the same thing. Dick stands up to follow after you. Matching glares enter the brothers eyes as they mirror your steps. Determined to not give up this time when you clearly need them.
You’ve already buried yourself in the bed by the time the two come to your doorway. Honestly you were a bit surprised when they came to sit on the edge of your bed. Well, at least Jason did. Dick crawled over and layed propped against your headboard next to you.
“Okay… Maybe we’ve been a little too pushy.” Dick says.
“Maybe?” You ask glaring up from your covers.
He laughs at you. “Okay, okay, I get it! We’ve pushed too far… It’s just- it’s just that we can get you the help you need, and it’s not like you’d be staying forever. Just long enough for you to get a proper diagnosis and medicine or whatever to make things easier.”
The change from joyful to melancholy in Dicks voice had you feeling guilty. The way he poured out his heart into people never ceased to awe you. You shift to sit up more against the headrest. Jason’s hand found its way to your calf where it rested casually.
“You know we don’t want to force you to do anything. We’re just so concerned for you. We know you’ve been alone for so long, but you don’t have to be anymore.” Dick says love shining in his eyes. “I know you think needing help makes you weak, but it doesn’t, and what’s family for but to be there for you when you are. Can’t tell you how many times we’ve been completely consumed by worry for you.” His brows furrowed as he explains.
“Just long enough for you to get to feelin better. That’s all we ask, doll.” Jason adds on.
“Jus a little while? That’s all?” You ask hesitantly.
“Just for a little while, princess.” Dick answers.
You nod slowly and whisper an “ok”. The two men were immediately in motion packing you a bag. You sat up more and assured them you could do it yourself but they hushed you in excitement. Jason asked you if there were any specific things you wanted while Dick filled a bag with clothes.
All in all time moved swiftly as the two moved like practiced dancers. Within minutes dresses and sentimental items were pulled from their proper places placed into bags and moved out of your home. Dick picked you up despite your demands to walk and brought you to their car. The two of you were followed closely by Jason who carried the last bag of items you’d be taking with you to their homes. Claims to come back for more were made by all three of you as you left the rest behind.
It didn’t take much for you to fall asleep in the back of the car. The rumbling and pain induced heaviness lulled you to sleep like a baby in a cradle. Because of your peaceful rest your arrival at the manor was kept relatively calm so as to not wake you. Bruce coming out to carry you to your new room while the other two grabbed your items. Tim checks the camera placed in the bedroom to make sure it’s operating and Alfred prepares a simple snack for you to eat once you wake up.
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sinsandsweetness · 7 months
Note
Please for the love of god write something about Rick chasing the reader down in the woods I’d DIE
(Rick and Daryl x fem!reader)
cw- reader already has a baby with the boys, reader being chased in a maze, threesome, smut, slight breeding kink… think that’s all…
notes- happy Halloween! This is a fun little one shot placed in Alexandria. It is a follow up of “taking turns” however you don’t need to read it to read this. It’s just the same relationship, a couple years later. I had a few requests for a follow up and for some chasing/hunting vibes so… here you go! I won’t lie this is a bit rushed and not proofread at all so I apologize for any errors or if it’s not my best… but i hope you enjoy and tell me what you think<3
“Alright,” Rick breathes out with a sigh, dropping the large box onto the ground. Daryl right behind him with another.
The kids run over. Judith, at just 4 years old, Gracie, Sam, Carl and a few of the older kids and teens in Alexandria. Your own baby coos in your arms. Incoherent, yet adorable babbles leave her mouth, with chubby little hands grabbing into the air in the direction of her daddy.
While Rick cuts open the cardboard box of costumes, Daryl sneaks away from the cluster of children, all way too excited to get their hands on a cape and a mask. Or a dress and a tiara.
“C’mhere, sweetheart,” he grabs your daughter from your arms. Immediately she’s smiling all big and giggling into his jacket.
“Were you good for your mama while I was gone?” He whispers against her dark curls before pressing a kiss to her head.
“She just missed you, I think.” You respond. In reality, she was fussy. You figured that would happen after two nights without her dad. Daryl definitely being her favourite parent.
The kids are noisy as they ooh and awe and fight over the Halloween costumes.
Rick finally makes his own escape with a costume cowboy hat on his head.
“Hey, officer,” you tip your head up for a kiss as he wraps his arms around your waist. Eager to hug you. To touch you.
He stays holding you for a moment. Just soaking in your warmth.
“Miss me?”
“Every minute.” He confirms against your mouth for one last kiss, before moving to kiss your daughters cheek.
“How’s our little princess?” He asks to no one in particular.
“She missed her daddies. Kept me up all night.”
“What?” Rick faked a shocked tone, “our little princess would never. That doesn’t sound like her at all, does it?” He runs his hand over her hair and plants a kiss on her head.
You roll your eyes but your smile peaks out anyway. The sight of your men being such good fathers will never fail to make you smile.
“Daddy! Daddy look!” Judith’s high pitched voice brings attention as she tugs at Ricks pant leg.
When the three of you turn to look, she’s dressed in a unicorn onesie. Adorable. A bit warm for the weather. But adorable.
Rick picks her up with a groan, “oh my goodness, almost too big for this, aren’t you?”
She nuzzles into Ricks chest, little arms wrapping around his neck.
“I think someone needs a little snooze before all the festivities tonight, hm? You feelin’ a little tired, Judy?” He asks her. You don’t hear anything but you see the white fluffy ears on her hood move up and down as she nods into her fathers shirt.
“This little rascal should have one too.” You nod towards your own sleepy girl, “I can go put em’ both down for a nap.”
“Nah, I’ll do it.” Daryl insists.
“Are you sure-“
“I’ve got it.” He scoops Judith up in one arm, balanced on his hip and very happy to be carried to bed. A snuggly little 6 month old on his other. He starts off upstairs and leaves you and Rick in the living room. Surrounded by a foam sword fight battle that appears to have ensued between a couple ninja turtles and a fairy Princess.
The whole reason for Rick and Daryl’s last run was to find these costumes. Among other Halloween decorations and as much candy as they could salvage. Anything to make it a special day. To show the kids what things used to be like. To remind the ones who did know, exactly how fun the holidays were. You weren’t even sure it was Halloween. Sure, the leaves were beautiful tones of orange and yellow, falling to the ground and crunching beneath your shoes. But you arent sure what day it was. Honestly, you arent entirely sure what month it is. However, according to Eugene’s calendar, It is in fact the 31st of October.
Ricks head tips low to your ear and he whispers an invitation to go shower. He needs to clean up. And he really wouldn’t mind some company.
“Carol,” he turns for a moment and nods to her in the kitchen, prepping some food for tonight. “Can you…” he motions to the living room full of children running around. Carol nods and you can hear her telling them to beat it and go play outside while you’re led up the stairs by the hand.
The party is supposed to start at 7. Carol offered to take your daughter for the night, to give you some time off. To have fun. To go to sleep early if that’s what you wanted.
It’s a bit cold out. So you’re in a cream knit sweater and some jeans. A pair of cheap bunny ears are on your head. Your daughter is dressed in the smallest costume you could find in the box, a plush orange carrot. And she’s the cutest carrot you’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.
There’s wine. Lots. And food. And candy. Eugene is setting up a spooky film to be played on a projecter in the middle of Alexandria. A few bonfires surround the yard, scattered with jack-o-lanterns. Carved and lit up with tea lights and glowing eyes.
It’s beautiful. Slightly spooky. And so familiar. It’s everything you remember about Halloween.
An arm snaking around your waist startles you as you sip on your wine. But the smell of smoke and leather soothes you quickly.
“Hey,” Daryl says. You turn to face him, only slightly confused as his voice is being muffled by something.
He’s wearing a mask. A scream mask more specifically. The rest of his attire is typical. His leather jacket on, though no vest tonight. Dark jeans and boots.
“Mmm, spooky.” You lean in and press a quick peck to the white plastic. You can’t see him smile under the mask, but you know it’s there.
Another arm wraps around your waist from the other side. It’s Rick. You know by the thick brown jacket brushing against you. He’s also in costume, wearing a Friday the 13th hockey mask.
“Well hello, Jason,” you tease.
“You scared yet?”
“Should I be?” You ask. Though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.
Rick opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by some commotion from the yard.
Eugene has a microphone, standing on a picnic table and telling the crowd to sit down and get comfy. That the movie will be starting in two minutes.
“Well, are you two ready for some Hocus Pocus?” You ask.
They look at eachother through the masks. What the hell are they plotting?
“What…?” You finally ask.
“We were thinking… maybe we could do something a little different.”
“What, you wanna watch something else?”
“Not quite,” Daryl chimes in, “we were thinking that while everyone is watching the movie, the three of us can make our way through the corn maze.”
The maze is outside the walls of Alexandria. A bit dangerous, but it was part of the fun. The kids had all had their turns in it earlier in the day, heavily supervised by adults and parents. Ones with weapons and training for situations outside the safety of the walls.
“You want us to all get lost in the maze?” You bite your bottom lip and smile.
“We want you to get lost in the maze,” Daryl corrects you.
Rick dips down to your ear and lowers his voice, “and we’ll try and find you. Play a little game.”
“Grown up hide and seek?” You ask. Heat raising to your cheeks at the thought of what they want to do once they find you.
“Exactly.”
You swallow, looking back to the yard where the kids are all lid out in sleeping bags and on blankets. Focused on the film playing in the dark.
“Ok.”
“We’ll give you a two minute head start,” Rick hands you a switch blade. Just incase. Nodding towards the back fence, where you know you can sneak out without being caught. Your heart is already starting to race a little at the thought of having to hide. At the thought of them searching for you. Hunting you down. And Daryl’s little comment when you start off towards the fence doesn’t help either,
“Good luck, little bunny.”
It’s pitch black when you reach the maze. Actually, as soon as you made it over the wall and into the woods, it was dark. But inside the maze, the stalks of corn all towering over 10 feet tall and fluttering creepily in the breeze. The only light you can see is a faint glow from the moon. And even then, it’s only when you’re out of the shadows.
You walk into the maze. Immediately met by multiple twists and turns. You weren’t one of the supervisors earlier, so you really didn’t know the route. The straw and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk further into the maze. A quick, brisk walk trying to find the best place to hide. Or, if you’re lucky, to find the end of the maze before the boys even get in.
But you know that’s unrealistic. And you’re sure your two minutes must be up because you can hear them. Footsteps and muffled voices behind a couple walls of corn. Shit.
You start to walk faster. A borderline jog at this point, trying to keep your footing light.
It didn’t occur to you until now how easy it’ll be for them to find you. Daryl’s a hunter for Christ sake. He’ll be able to track your path through the maze in no time.
They’re closer.
Fuck.
You have to run. You can hear their voices. They’re so close.
“You’re gonna have to be quicker than that, baby.” Ricks voice rings out towards you. He’s on the other side of the wall. Through the thick corn stalks and the pitch black of the night, you can’t make out exactly where he is. But he’s close.
You run.
And they follow right after.
The sound of their footsteps is clearer and clearer the further away from Alexandria you get. And the further into the maze.
You shriek at the feeling of a hand on your sweater, jolting forward and starting to sprint. It was Daryl. He’s behind you.
And though him and Rick are both stronger, you have one advantage. You’re faster.
Over your shoulder as you sprint you can see them. White masks still on, glowing in the moonlight.
“Fuck”, you swear to yourself when you
come to a dead end. You only have two options. Turn around, or be caught. They couldn’t be more than a few seconds away.
Without really thinking, you shove your way through the stalks. Catching on every leaf and stick, but ultimately coming out the other side without a scrape.
You can’t celebrate your quick thinking victory too long because you still hear them.
“Split up,” Daryl whisper shouts at his friend, and with their footsteps scattered, it’s even harder to tell where they are.
Fuck.
You keep going. You take a left. And then a right and another dead end. Shit. Is this … is this the same one?
You turn back and take the left instead. But it’s another dead end.
What the fuck?
You’re lost. You don’t even know what direction you came from anymore. Circling the same two dead ends before you finally take a right that leads you a couple meters further than the other options.
You hear a stick crack on the ground behind you, but there’s no time to see who it is.
You turn the corner fast with your heartbeat so loud it drums in your ears.
“Shit,” you stumble right into a brown jacket in front of you. Arms wrapping around you and picking you up. You scream.
Someone warm presses against your back as your feet touch the floor again.
You’re trapped.
“Gotcha,” Daryl’s gravelly voice is already in your ear.
You’re breathing heavy in their hold, sandwiched between the two men.
Their hands grab at your sweater and start to roam.
“Take this off,” a voice demands as you struggle against their arms,
You try for a moment to reach the mask covering Ricks face. But Daryl, or maybe Rick’s, hands are clamped on your wrist.
It’s claustrophobic, but you don’t entirely mind. As long as it’s their arms your trapped between, you’ll never complain.
They don’t kiss you. They can’t. But everything about their demeanour is screaming that they want you. That they want to be in you.
Hands gripping and tugging at your jeans. Your hands snake around Ricks neck in front of you as they peel your jeans down your legs. The air is cold and gives you goosebumps, but your legs wrap around his waist immediately. Daryl’s bulge pokes at your ass while his hand trails under your sweater to pinch your nipple. Ricks pants are tight as his own bulge rubs against the thin fabric of your panties. Your jeans long lost to the straw and dirt ground underneath you.
It doesn’t take long for them to get you how they need you.
Granted, the three of you did have a lot of practice. Your panties swiftly ripped off by the man behind you who wanted more access. The cold metal of both their belts hit your skin.
And with little preparation other than some spit and arousal, you’re stretched to the max with both men. Both holes filled with very little regard for your comfort.
They know you’d say something if it really hurt.
But it hurts so good. The pain of being so fucking full. Stretched to a limit you’d experienced over a dozen times, but no matter what, it just never gets any easier.
“Wanna kiss you,” your voice comes out in wet gasps, lips brushing the plastic of Ricks mask. One hand trying for Daryl’s hood, reaching awkwardly around. You need their touch. Their lips on your lips. Tongues tracing each-other and fighting for dominance.
They’d win.
They always do.
The three of you find a rhythm quickly. Hands on your thighs, holding you up and using you as leverage to pound as fast and hard as they could. Your moans and their grunts fill the air as pleasure starts to swirl low on your abdomen.
“Please,” your head tips back in ecstasy. “Please, please,”
“Please what, sweet girl?” The cold plastic of Daryl’s mask brushes your ear.
“Please- want- uh,” you’re interrupted by sharper thrusts from the two men, catching you off guard. Their both picking up their pace.
“Speak up, darling.” Rick demands, nails digging into your hips.
“Fill me up,” you gasp again. “Want it so bad, Rick, please.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on the swirl in your stomach. The one that keeps getting warmer and warmer and warmer until-
“I’m cumming,” you tell them as a courtesy, but you don’t have to. The way you’re involuntarily clenching down around them gives you away far better than a couple raspy words.
“You really wanna get filled up, baby? Bred like the little bunny you are, huh?” Ricks words send you over the edge and a hand toys at the fluffy rabbit ears that are shockingly still secured on top of your head.
You’re out of words. Too stimulated to talk. So you just nod in agreement. Yes. Please. Please.
Their hips stutter to a stop and warm liquid seeps out to drool down your inner thigh.
Breathing heavy, you’re lowered back to the ground, colder now. without the friction of their bodies.
“Here,” Daryl grabs your jeans from the ground and dresses you again. His soft side peaking out now that he’s had his release. Your shoes are back on and your legs a little shaky, and finally, the boys finally take their masks off. The whites of their eyes are bright in the moonlight.
“You alright?” They both ask you as the three of you somehow manage to find your way back out of the maze.
“A little cold…” you smirk.
“But we didn’t-we didn’t scare you too bad right?”
“No.” You smile, “Don’t know if I could ever get that scared by you too love bugs.” You tease, arms wrapping around their waists and pulling them in close to you.
“Pfft,” Daryl brushes off the comment and Rick only smiles.
“Well if we didn’t scare you, then maybe next time we oughta try a little harder.”
“Next time?” You ask. The thought already going straight between your thighs.
The boys share a look over your shoulders that can only mean one thing.
“Hey, baby,” Rick catches your attention, hand guiding you towards the community gates by the small of your back as he searches in his jacket pocket for his keys. “You ever been to a house of mirrors?”
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cherizzx · 2 months
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Miles 42 Headcannons ( We got a man yall 🤭🤭
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Miles 42x Black Reader
OK first off, THIS IS A 15/16 YEAR OLD CHILD HE BROKE AS HELL
Like he not broke broke but, hell shadow box for $5 and win ts. To me I feel he got a little money saved form how his dad taught his savings, and he got a back account because remember he's like a hitman he gets paid, but he's not like rich enough to the point he buys you like Rolex watches, Catier, Dior vintage bags from the 70's spring collection.
Next, I feel like to me evry says hes like some bad boy to me i just think hes troubled but, hes a good kid. In the first movie Miles acted the same way and in the second movie he's more mature I feel like Miles-42 matured faster since his dad died; he could never play with action figures when no action was taken to save his dad
It very sad how they describe him in fics as like a drug dealer bad kid when really, I think he's just a matured yet still goofy version of Miles like imagine Hobie attitude with miles it practically the same!
Also, more on the dating side of things Miles-42 I believe would not trust his s/o til 3 months later or even more. Miles-42 is a hitman, and he may have been taught people are going to burn your bridge when they have the chance so, Miles stays clear of really revealing his inner turmoil's til he can fully trust you.
But, when Miles does open up he's like a little flower all nice and smells good yet can still have you in the bed sick and tired if tried hard enough, I feel like his emotions would turn more gentler like he wasn't neglecting you but he kind of was condescending when you show a lot of affection and until you prove your real, hell just make the relationship picture worthy and not living worthy.
But an opinion I know people would say is true is that Miles both of them cannot flirt. Remember than most likely Miles-42 dad and Miles-1160 uncle died at or around the same time which means they both experienced the same ' I almost messed up my chances with this cool girl because my uncle/dad didn't teach me how to be a smooth criminal' but to me with how he put his hand on Miles-1160 shoulder..that man had one girlfriend in the 5th grade and he's been feelin himself since then.
Now before you two started dating you have crushes, Miles didn't have many crushes to my idea. I feel like he didn't see it like he thought of kids as friends and if he did like smb it would be like quick and over with simply because he would try to be friends more.
Like imagine you tryna shoot your shot with him and he just asks you what your favorite power ranger...that what I mage would happen but he's 15/16 so instead it him saying ' cool but, not interested' like he's not rude about it but, you would feel he not messin with you,
Buttt if he does have like a real crush on you, I feel like he would try to get to know you by socials than irl, like asking Ganke can he ask for your socials and then following you and from there trying bag you by cheesy but smooth texts. He would ask about your day, what was the homework, what clubs you do ask a conversation starter but, if you feelin him hell asking about music because I feel like Miles-42 and Miles-1160 both have a music bone in them, and you know Miles-42 listens to good music (won't ever catch him listening to mf Lil Pump ass) I also feel like Miles would ask about pop culture opinions to see how you are as a person like do you watch any popular tv shows? Ohhhh your favorite is Greys Anatomy... so you have nothing to do in your time? That what hell thinks.
My last little head cannon is more of what he would do if Ms. Rio liked you, which because he respectful baddies she likes us quickly, so What would miles do if Rio likes us 🧐
First, Miles wouldn't tell but shell know simply because Miles never smiles at a text, it doesn't matter if he won $128302 million, he not smiling until he met our lovely baddie reader now, he is giggling and kicking his feet. To Ms. Rio that's not normal, it gives her a sense of his old self and she doesn't pry into his social like a helicopter parent but, she doesn't take a peek over his shoulder and when Miles does get the courage to tell her she just smiling acting like she aint know.
Miles seeing his mom like would take a big relief off his shoulders because he thought about the reddit stories where the mom is crazy and now, he thinks his momma gonna run us over with a truck and blame it on the next-door neighbor (true miles fashion)
His mom liking you also lets him know he picked the right one, mothers know best when it comes to fake people for some odd reason and if Rio didn't side-eye you when she met you then your good and he's inviting you to his house more often. I'm not going to talking about Uncle Aaron because I feel like they not as close like that but that a head cannon for a sad day.
But, at the end of the day Miles wants us bad 🤭🤭
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