many thoughts about mata nui meeting the surviving toa teams (including the mata discovering that their relationship is less "king and his loyal knights" and more "very proper very sheltered very excited princess and her favorite jousters who are very baffled by her joy and wondering if this is just The Standard Way To Feel In Front Of Your Praising Boss or if theyre developing a crush", the haga being too distracted by Holy Shit The Great Spirit to focus on anything hes saying, and the mahri briefly mistaking him for Matoro on vibes alone and interrupting his genuine apology for what they went through for him to give him a hug) but most importantly imagine youre The World's Least Known And Runner-Up For Most Dysfunctional Toa Team, feeling like you only barely achieved what you were supposed to do through continuous strokes of luck, and then God shows up and is your biggest fan ever. you try to explain in detail how you fumbled your way to tentative success and it just makes God even prouder. thats what the metru are going through
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Been thinking about the 141 boys coming to visit your southern family…
Price ends up out back with your papaw and uncles staring at a riding mower that they haven’t been able to get back up and working. Beer in hand, hip cocked, mimicking their ‘uh-uh’s and ‘yep’s. He tries to help with grilling but your dad won’t let him anywhere near it because “damn brits can’t cook out to save their lives. I’ve seen what y’all eat.”
Ghost gets a little overwhelmed by the women fussing over him. He’s on his third plate of food and your mimi is still loading him up with more mac n cheese because “He’s just such a big boy - he really needs to fill up! Are you sure you’re feeding him enough?” Luckily Simon is a literal human vacuum - a total garbage disposal. He drinks about a pitcher of sweet tea by himself because you can’t tell me that man doesn’t have a deadly sweet tooth. You have to drive home after the food coma they put him in.
Gaz is the decided favorite son-in-law (never mind that you aren’t married yet.) He’s just so polite, happily helping wherever needed. Quick witted and more than prepared to participate in the small town gossip. Giving genuine, dramatic gasps at the news that the preachers son of your family’s rival church took a trip (went to prison). It just makes sense that boy always had a screw loose, after all. He picks up on the cooking easily enough, asking your mom for all her recipes to make both you and her a lovely custom cook book of family recipes.
Soap goes absolutely hog wild on the four wheelers with your cousins. Regaling the younger ones with stories of his ‘adventures’ (pranks on the other 141 members.) He picks up some of your slang for the fun of it. After all, sigogglin’ just works with a Scottish accent so well. Unfortunately he can’t handle the jalapeño corn bread - it’s just too spicy for the poor boy.
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Task Force 141 x Singlemon!Reader
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Little Explanation
He is wounded on battle, deeply wounded. To the point where it is needed to induce a coma. He is staying in a hospital not too far from base, so the rest of the task force come to visit almost everyday.
Today is not different, they are sitting around his bed, chatting and cracking jokes, as if he was awake.
Until you enter the room, heart in your throat when you see him in the bed connected to all the machines. So focused on him, that you don't even see the three other men until they stand up in front of you, blocking you.
“Who are you?” Asks one of them
“I-I’m his ex-wife, they called me in.” You stutter, feeling the hostile aura from everyone in the room.
Now imagine what goes through their minds, because never in the whole time they have been together has the man in the hospital bed talked about a lover let alone a wife. Their work is way too dangerous to trust somebody this easily, you must be lying.
“Mom, I can't find the bathroom!” A little voice says behind you, making everyone turn to look at the little kid.
And no more explanation is needed when they look at the carbon copy of the comatose man looking back at them.
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Imagine being pregnant with your first child with Miguel... (18+) Fluffy smut...
Of course Miguel is so excited to be a father, he dotes on you hand and foot. Swollen ankles? He rubs them. Midnight cravings? This man doesn't even trust Door Dash, he grabs his keys and goes to the nearest Bodega to fulfill your late night lust for sugary food.
You smile widely and kick your feet when he returns, and his heart melts at your adorable grabby hands as you pout until he hands you the requested food with a light peck to your forehead.
And after you're passed out in a sugar coma, he cradles you close to his body and kisses your hairline, unable to believe that your his.
Dont get me started on what happens when you start getting self conscious about your body. He looks down at you firmly as you bemoan your bloated body, and when you wail about looking like a fat mole, he picks you up like you weigh nothing, and lays you in your big bed, and unwraps you like the most precious gift he's ever been given, because that's what you are to him.
After he's wrung no fewer than three orgasms from you on his tongue, he'll take advantage of your blissed out state and lower you onto his cock, peppering your jaw with kisses as he leads your hips to ride him lazily, all the while whispering about how lucky he is to have you.
He devours your moans and whimpers wholesale, greedy for every sign of the pleasure he's giving you. And after he cleans you up, and curls around you protectively, he nuzzles your neck and strokes your stomach, thanking you for making him a daddy.
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