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babeyvenus · 9 months

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My Future

Derek Hale x OC

Samantha, Stiles and Scott are always joking about the impossible. Who wouldn't when your best friend's dad is the sheriff of Beacon Hills? All jokes stop when they realize the impossible is indeed possible.

Chapter 68: Bleeding Brother

A/N: gonna be a spam of chapters bc I think it's about time. Feedback always welcome!

As the four headed back to Scott's house, they were debating on whether or not to call Stiles and tell him about what had happened with the possibility of killing a Hellhound.

It made no sense to either of them as to what was going on, and Stiles was the brains of the pack.

But…

Scott sits down on the edge of his bed, glaring at his phone screen as he looks at the voicemail Stiles had sent him moments ago.

Malia and Lydia sit down beside him as Sam paces, still refusing to ruin Stiles' time where he was.

Scott was in a limbo. He knows his best friend wanted the best for Stiles, but they also needed him too. Scott’s voice is hesitant as he calls out to Sam. “Sam–”

She fixed him with a widened eyed look and pointed at him with a snap. “You call him and I'm snatching your damn fingers. The boy deserves a break. It's enough that he's already had the responsibility of being the sheriff's son, but being here hasn't been too kind for him in the past couple of years. He finally has a chance to just do him.", she rambled.

She'd finally stopped pacing, her shoulders sagged. She frowned sadly, as she remembers all the times he was in danger. “We almost lost him. Again and again and again. I'm not risking it anymore.”

Scott frowns, but nods in agreement. However… “If this turns out to be something big, and we don’t call him…”

Sam sits by the bed, letting out a sigh. "I know. He won't like it. But it'd be worth it if he won't get hurt."

Malia looks between the three and shrugs as she speaks. “Maybe we should go back to the woods tonight and find the killer?”

Lydia sighs and turns her attention to Scott. “Scott…”

He frowns and looks at his phone. “You guys didn’t hear his voice. He sounded really excited to be there.”

“And he should be. We shouldn't ruin that. Just play the damn voicemail.”, Sam said.

Scott presses the voicemail on his phone and plays it on speaker. “Hey, Scott. So, I’m here. I’m in Quantico, Virginia at the FBI. I’m at the fucking FBI! It’s real. I’m really here–”

The four smile at the sound of his voice. “And I kinda told Lydia that I miss her and I can’t wait to get home, but listen, Scott…"

They all sigh.

Scott frowns. "Whatever you’re doing right now, either of you, just make sure you’re still getting out of Beacon Hills. I mean, maybe you think you can’t leave, you know, like the whole thing falls apart if you’re not there, which, I get… but you have to. I know you’re supposed to drive out tonight, so, if you don’t call me back, just promise me you’re actually going. Just get in the Jeep and go. If you have to drag Sammy out of there, you do it. I know she won't leave. Not if she's still waiting for that stupid sourwolf.", Stiles says, making Sam roll her eyes.

"Alright, later man, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Scott turns off his phone. “We’ll try to figure this out, find Argent, maybe this won't all be something big and we can just tell him when it’s over.”, he said with hope.

Sam frowned. “Let's… give it a couple of days. Maybe a week and if it all goes to shit, we’ll call him.”

Scott stands up with a sigh. “Then, let's head back to the woods.”, he said and the girls nod.

After arriving at the preserve, they look around.

"So what else could we look for?", Malia asks Scott, but he doesn't answer.

The girls frown at him. "Scott.", Lydia called. Suddenly, Scott runs off as if he was chasing something. The girls look at each other before running after him.

Malia pants, "We can still catch him." They catch up to him and Scott turns to them, confused. “Catch who?”

Sam looks at him with furrowed eyebrows as she catches her breath. Malia frowns and shares a look with Lydia. “The killer. What were you thinking about?”, Lydia asks.

Scott holds up the bullet casing in between his fingers. “Getting the bullet to Argent.”

“Even if he’s the one who fired it?”, Malia asks and he nods. “Especially if he’s the one.”

Scott turns away and freezes as if he is on high alert. “Do you hear that?”, he asks, looking at Malia and Sam.

They nod. “Heartbeats.” Sam feels for any presences and frowns at the familiarity of them. Before she could speak up, panic struck on Scott’s face. “A lot of them. They’re coming.”

Lydia and Malia frown at him. “Who?”

Scott turns back to where he heard the heartbeats.“Hunters – run!”

Scott takes off running, leaving the girls in confusion before taking off after him. “Scott, wait! Scott!”, Malia yelled.

He ignored their calls and seemed to run faster. As they try their best to catch up, they're met with deputies with their guns drawn and flashlights beaming at a pair of bodies on the ground.

The girls' eyes widened as they took in the sight of Scott and Noah.

Noah lifts one of his hands towards the Deputies and warns, “It’s okay. Everybody, stay back. it’s just a kid.”

As they got closer, they could hear one of the female deputies ask, “What’s wrong with his eyes?”

“Shit.”, Sam mutters and moves up to the two. Parrish's order rings clear, “You heard the Sheriff, stand down!”

Sam kneels next to Scott, giving an apologetic look to the sheriff before taking Scott's hands who looks at her with embarrassed expression. He was still struggling to get his breathing and pounding heart in check. “Deep breaths, Scotty. You remember?", Sam asked.

Scott swallowed and nodded, following their traditional technique. Once he calmed down, she looked at him and gave him a nod. "What happened back there?”, Noah asked.

They help Scott stand up and Sam looks at the sheriff. "There's…something we need to show you."

They head back through the preserve towards the area where they found the dead body of the hellhound.

They show the body to Noah, Parrish and a few other deputies who search around the crime scene, looking for any more clues.

Scott turns to Noah, embarrassed. “I’m really sorry.”

Noah dismissed it with a smile and a shake of his head. He didn't blame the boy for a freakout. So long as he wasn't committing mass murder, that is.

Sam frowns as she looks at Parrish. “How much you think they saw?", she asked, nodding over to the deputies. Parrish shrugs. “No more than they’re used to.”

Noah crosses his arms. “I still wanna know what happened.”

“He’s a Hellhound.”, Parrish explains, pointing at the body. Malia clarifies. “A dead Hellhound.”

Lydia frowns at her as the sheriff shakes his head. “Yep, got that.”

Parrish frowns. “Well, I don’t get it. I didn’t think you could kill a Hellhound.”

Malia flicks her eyebrows up, unimpressed. “Looks a lot easier than we thought.”

A pause waves over them and the sheriff and deputy looked at them almost suspiciously.

Noah speaks up. "You got anything you wanna add?”

Scott fidgets but doesn't say anything. Sam rubs behind her neck. “We just didn't think any bullet was able to do that.”

Noah nods and Parrish frowns as he looks at the hellhound’s body once more. “I'd hope not.”

As they drove back to Scott's house, they all sighed. Lydia looks at Sam, frowning. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Sam frowns and looks at Scott. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Malia looks at all of them. “Why didn’t any of you say anything? Wait, was I supposed to say something?”

Scott frowned. “No. None of us said anything because it’s Argent, and he deserves a chance to tell us himself what’s going on.”

Sam looks at them. "So none of us are gonna say anything until we talk to him. For now, we'll just have to figure this shit out ourselves.”

Lydia and Malia look unsure but Lydia sighs. “As long as we talk to Argent soon.”

Sam frowns, tiredly. "Now would be preferable."

Scott rubs his hands over his thighs, raising his brows and nods. “Finding Argent is the first priority.”

Moments later, Lydia brings Sam over to the Sheriff's station after having to explain she had a premonition of Parrish. Their first plan was having to ask Parrish for access to the card readers because of the sound Lydia heard.

He agrees and helps them down to the holding cell area. Once they were there, Sam sighed as Lydia stared at the bars of the cell. “Is that it? The sound you heard?”, Parrish asked after sliding a key card.

She shook her head. “No, it’s something else.”

They left the holding cells and made their way through the station and into the bullpen where the other deputies were working.

Parrish sits on his desk, having Lydia and Sam stop in front of him. He frowns as he thinks out loud. “It could be any kind of public facility. Hospital, a fire station, or…”

Sam frowns deeply. “Or a mental institution.”

Parrish's head snaps up as he frowns at Sam. “No.”

“Eichen House.”, Sam muttered. Parrish sighs, shaking his head.

Lydia gives him a grimace. “The card readers on the doors?” He nods. “It’s the Closed Unit.”

Parrish stands once more, giving the girls a firm look. “You’re not going back to Eichen, and you’re definitely not going anywhere near the Closed Unit.”

Lydia almost pouts but leans a little closer to him. “What if there’s a connection to the…” She lowers her voice. “Dead Hellhound?”

He immediately shakes his head anyway. “Absolutely not. What if you go there again and someone tries to kill you? Which seems to happen every time either of you go in there!”

Sam frowns. “It’s what we got right now.”

He frowns at her. “If I bring you anywhere near that place either the sheriff will kill me, Stiles will kill me or Derek.”

She raises an eyebrow. She expected the first two, but Derek?

Parrish catches onto her confusion. "He made it very clear, before he left, not to let you get into any more trouble while he was gone or anywhere near the Eichen House again. Said something about you being drugged or something…", he trailed off.

"Look, if you're so worried, then you can come with us.”, Lydia suggested. Parrish smiles and shakes his head while reaching over to his desk chair and grabs his jacket. “Or… I can go alone and the two of you can stay here in the nice, safe Sheriff’s station.”

Before he leaves, Sam walks up to him. "Hold on, Jordan.", she says and makes a motion for him to lower his head.

Confused, he does just that, only flinching once he feels a strand of hair being plucked from his head. His head snaps back up, frowning at the girl as he rubs the sore spot. "What was that for?"

She grins, "Gray hair."

He narrows eyes, slightly offended and leaves the girl at the station. Lydia looks at her. "It's not a gray hair.", she says and Sam gives her a unimpressed look with an eyebrow raised.

Looking around, Sam makes sure none of the other deputies were watching and makes a resin in the floor before putting Parrish's hair strand in the middle.

Once she placed a hand over the circle, the crescent moon appeared on her forehead, indicating that the linking spell worked.

Moments of waiting and they were getting nowhere. Hadn't heard from Parrish or anything.

However, Lydia's attention was gathered by a calendar reminder on her phone.

Last day to register for MIT– today, 6:00PM.

Sam frowns sadly as she looks at her friend who frowns as well. "You should've registered.", Sam mutters. Lydia looked at her.

Sam glanced at her. "Register for online classes, at least.", she said with a smile. She didn't want her friends to miss chances of their lives outside of Beacon Hills and its troubles.

Lydia smiles. "I'll do that." Before she could get another word out, she sat up straight, looking at a deputy placing her walkie talkie on a charger.

The girls share a look and Lydia gets up, sneaking over to the walkie talkie. Sam watches as the girl messes with the device, listening for whatever she was listening for.

Lydia raises the volume, and the sound of static enters the room from the device. The girls looked around to see if anyone was paying attention and no one was so Sam nodded at Lydia to continue.

In seconds, Sam's wrist felt like it was freezing as the small crescent moon appeared on her forehead once more. The girls looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Time to go.”, Sam mutters, leading Lydia out of the station.

Once they arrived to the Eichen House, Sam paused as she tried to sense where Parrish could've been.

After a minute, it was faint, but she sensed him in a cell.

The moment they walk in there, she'd be powerless. The only thing she could think about was how they rushed in there to search for Stiles, only for him not to be there. To look for Lydia as she was getting tortured, only for Sam, Scott and Kira left Stiles and Lydia to look for Valack while the dread doctors tormented them with their presence.

Each time she remembered, she felt helpless. How the hell were they gonna get Parrish out?

Lydia notices the girl's hesitation and holds her hand. Sam's eyes locked onto Lydia who gave her a soft smile. "I got you."

Once the gate slammed behind them, Sam accepted her fate. There was no turning back as they entered the building.

As they walked the hallways for the closed unit, Sam made sure to keep Lydia close. Lydia was more bound to this place than she was and it'd hurt her if Stiles knew that she let Lydia get in trouble with the place.

However, the dark hallways were keeping her on edge. It wasn't easy to keep a brave face as they looked around.

“Why aren’t the lights on…?”, Lydia whispered as they looked at all the unlocked doors. If only it was that easy when they were trying to save her the first time.

"I'm not liking the looks of this, Lydia.", Sam muttered. They both jump at the sound of gates slamming behind them.

Lydia yells for Parrish but Sam glares at her. Her yelling was gonna give them away. Whoever was here obviously didn't want anyone down here.

She wished she could just sense someone's presence. Even if it was just theirs.

Something.

It was better than nothing.

They pause as they hear a female voice. “It’s here."

“We should be killing them.”, another voice says.

“Wait!”, they heard Parrish yell before jumping at the sound of a loud, echoing gunshot ringing through the hallways.

The girls glanced at each other before sneaking to where the sound came from.

Their eyes widen as they see a doctor pointing a gun at Parrish's forehead, muttering that he didn't have to be afraid anymore.

Before he could pull the trigger, Lydia raised her arms and let out her banshee screech at the man, and sent him flying toward the wall of the cell, and fell to the ground, knocked out.

Sam rushed over to Parrish, taking in his state. He was freezing, just like how her wrist felt earlier. "You regret not letting us come with you now?", she asked, taking off her hoodie and wrapped it around him before helping him up.

"I-I had h-him…", Parrish weakly scoffs, but gives the girls an appreciative smile as they help him out of the institution.

After leaving the sheriff's department, Lydia and Sam drove back to Scott's house, finding out they had found Chris at a gun deal that he was supplying the entire time.

Chris informed Scott that he wasn't avoiding the teens, but had been busy providing and investing in gun sales.

It didn't make any sense, though. They hadn't seen any hunters in so long. The Argent clan practically stopped going after supernaturals in Beacon Hills ever since the incident in Mexico.

"Well…I asked him about the casing and he said he hadn't stamped a bullet since… y'know.", Scott explains, making Sam frown sadly.

It was understandable but still made no sense as to how the bullet was still stamped by his family's graving.

After Scott's explanation, Lydia and Sam inform them about what had happened to Parrish and Dr. Fenris.

Scott and Malia's eyes widened. “He killed every supernatural in the Closed Unit? All of them?”

The girls nodded. Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “He said he couldn’t see it any other way.”

Sam frowned. “Apparently, he was so angry because he struggled to "protect the world" from the things in the closed unit and decided he shouldn’t cage the supernatural and then killed them so humanity wouldn't be afraid anymore.”

Malia scoffs. “Well, I’ve got another way. You don’t kill everyone.”

“He was afraid.”, Lydia frowns. It made a little sense. “The wolves, the rats. Everything links back to fear.”

Scott frowns in thought. “But what is everyone afraid of?” In a second, Scott takes the casing out of his pocket, frowning sadly. “…Us.”

He placed the bullet on the kitchen island and drums his fingers on the island. “We don’t know what fear would do to somebody. I mean, it can change them. They’ll look at us differently. They’ll do things that they’ve never done before.”

Malia frowns in frustration. “People can be so stupid.”

Lydia shakes her head. “They’re not stupid, they’re scared.”

Sam stares at the bullet. “And when people are scared, they'll do things way beyond their expectations."

The next day, Scott informed the three of Brett's assault, and was introduced to Brett’s sister, Lori, who was already waiting for them. The girl informed them that she had found a bloody lacrosse stick by Brett’s car.

Mason and Liam showed up with each other along with Lydia and Malia.

After they discuss their plans, Lydia speaks of hers. “I’ll stay here and try to see if I can get anything.”

Scott, Malia, and Sam nod.

Mason jabs a thumb over his shoulder toward the school. “Corey is in a study group so we can stay with Lydia, we can – you know, try to be helpful?”, Mason suggests, much to Lydia's surprise.

She shrugs. “Fine, meet me in the Chemistry classroom.”

They walk to the school while the other 5 move to where Lori saw her brother's blood. “His blood is over here.” Liam nods, jogging over to her “Let's go.”

They follow the blood trail into the preserve with Liam leading ahead. He stops at a tree with an arrow in it and lifts his hand up to the end of the arrow, turning and aiming his arm from where the arrow was shot. “Here.”

The older four watch, catching onto his line of sight. Suddenly, Sam hears a crunch under her foot and steps back to see a black phone that Lori picks up. She looks at Sam. “It’s his.”

The boys look at the phone. Liam frowns, “I think he set a trap.” Scott gains a look of agreement on his face. “He’s fighting back.”

"And now we know he’s alive.”, Sam says.

Lori turns towards the tree, looking around frantically. “But he’s still hurt. We need to find him. He needs to know we’re here,” she says, worriedly. In a beat, she takes a deep breath in and turns towards the preserve, making Malia's eyes widen as she stops her. “You want the hunter to know we’re here, too?”

Sam frowns as she senses another presence. "She's right. It's not a smart move. Could be a setup for the rest of us."

Liam shakes his head. “He’s new – we can take him.”

Malia turns to the boy. “What if Brett howls back? He’ll lead the hunter right to him.”

Scott shakes his head. “No, we could find him first. There’s no human that can track sounds faster than we can, and we’ve got the advantage. We’ve done this before. We know what we’re doing, guys.”

Malia's eyebrows furrowed as she looked around. “How come I can’t catch his scent?”

“He’s masking it.”, Lori explains. Malia grumbles “Can someone tell him not to?”

Liam walks past them, pointing to the ground a few feet away from them. “He went this way.”

He takes off down the trail. "Liam–!", Sam calls before chasing after him with Lori, Scott and Malia.

They stop after a moment, catching their breath. Malia places her hands on her hips “The trail’s gone.”

“Uh, maybe he just stopped bleeding?”, Scott suggests.

“Guys, I think we should split up. Lori and I go this way, you guys go that way.”, Liam says. Lori speaks up. “Or maybe we go in five directions?”

Sam frowns. “Yeah, no.”

“Sam, we have a better advantage. it’s five against one.”, Liam frowns. “This isn't a 5v1 game, Liam. If we split up, only one of us is taking him on.”, Sam says.

Liam frowns. “I’ve been doing this the past three months without your guys’ help. I think I can make a decision.”, he says, making Sam raise her eyebrows at his boldness.

“Well, if you’re deciding to do something stupid and die, then go ahead.”, Malia huffs, making Sam give her an unimpressed look. “It’s one hunter – one amateur – who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

Scott kneels on the ground, moving some dirt around and revealing footprints in the mud underneath. “Scott?”, Sam calls.

Liam looks at footprints. “The hunter.. he’s covering his tracks.”

“There’s another.”, Scott informs as he moves more dirt that was moved over to cover the other set of prints.

Malia gets closer. “Two of them?”

“Probably more.”, Sam huffs. The feeling of being scouted even with her detection didn't settle her at all.

Lori looks at Scott. “How many hunters have you seen out here before?”

Scott looks at her. “…a lot.”

Sam frowns at Liam. “Still think it's a good idea to split up?”

Almost pouting, Liam looks at her. “We can deal with it later. We just need to find Brett’s trail.”

Lori shook her head and pointed at a stack of rocks. “No, we don’t. Rock balancing – Satomi taught us. It’s him, and I know where he’s going.”

Lori led them toward the balancing stack of rocks. There was a grate covered by a fallen bushy tree branch, and they climbed down into the tunnels.

After making their way in the tunnels, they found puddles of black liquid, easily resembling black blood. Lori kneels down and swipes her fingers through one of the puddles, letting out a sigh as she turns back to them. “He’s been poisoned.”

“That’s why he’s not healing.”, Scott said, dreadfully.

"I don't think we'll make it to Deaton's.", Sam mutters to Scott.

"What if he only has a few hours to live?”, Lori asks with wide eyes. Sam sighs and looks at her packmates.

Liam frowns, “Well, if we howl, we can find him.”

“That’s too risky.”, Malia counters. Lori frowns at her. “Who cares about the risk? He could be dying.”

Malia turns to Lori. “He’s still moving.”

Scott looks at Sam and she closes her eyes before taking a knee and placing her hand on the ground. If she could feel where Brett is, it'll probably give them an indication of how long he has.

Scott sighs as he watches her. “We just need time to think.” Sam looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. "I can't concentrate under pressure.", she warned.

Lori frowns at Scott. “I need him to know that I’m here, that I’m coming for him.”

Liam looks at Scott. “Yeah, Lori’s right. He has to know we’re here!” He turns back to the black trail and takes a deep breath in.

“Liam, wait!”, Malia yells, but Liam ignores her, roaring down the tunnel.

The silence they heard unsettled them. "Shit.", Sam muttered. They continued down the hall, worriedly.

“Why didn’t he answer…?”, Lori asks. Liam grimaced. “Maybe – maybe he didn’t hear us…”

Sam frowns at him. “Well, I got two solutions. Maybe he's too weak to give a howl or he's been caught. Y'know, by the hunters that's out here??"

Before Liam could retaliate, Scott yells. “Lori, no!” The rest saw Lori's legs walking into a tripwire.

Sam grabs Liam and Malia, after hearing a clicking noise, pulling them back from where she assumed the trap would've come from but her eyes widen once she hears Scott groan. She, Liam and Malia see him hit the wall and let out gasping breaths.

Scott lifts his hands to his stomach where a metal pipe impales him.

Malia and Liam rush over to grab at the end of the pipe, slowly trying to remove it from his body, finally getting it out. Scott lets out a loud groan as he slides down the wall.

Sam walks over to the pipe and sees spikes on the pipe, resembling a mace. "They planned this.", she mutters, looking at the three in front of her. Scott nods, gritting his teeth in pain. “They knew we were coming.”

Malia kneels beside him. “Don’t talk. Just heal and let us figure this out.”

“They’ve been a step ahead of us the whole time.”, Scott growls, holding his stomach in pain. Sam walks over to him, placing her glowing hands over his stomach. "Stop talking, you'll make it worse.", she scolds gently as her arms fill with pain.

Lori frowns sadly, glancing between Scott and down the tunnel. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait around… we have to go.”

Sam glares at the girl.

Liam nods. “We still have the numbers. Four to two. We’re faster, and we’re stronger. We can take them."

"We'd be faster if she hadn't walked into a tripwire.", Sam growls. She winces, but Scott grabs her hand. "I'll be fine.", he says, trying to get her to stop.

He tries to sit up properly. “They’re smarter too.”

“I don’t care who’s smarter, or faster, or whatever. My brother’s going to die.”, Lori says. Sam turns to her once again. “You have no idea what the hell you're getting yourself into. This isn't just some coincidence. This was planned. Elaborate.”

Sam looks at Scott. "This sounds like something the Argents would do." Scott frowns in realization. He couldn't deny that. They've been through situations like this too long to not know.

Liam looks at Sam. “But they’ve never fought us before.”

“You never from them before.", Sam says. "You’ve never fought hunters, Liam. We need to stick together.”, Scott reminds. Lori shakes her head. “I need to go.”

Liam stops her. “No, you’re not going alone. I’ll go with you."

Sam stands, stopping him. “And how are you gonna do that? Again, you haven't fought any hunters. So what's your plan?”

Liam frowns sadly. “Look, Sam. I know who we are. And we never give up. Especially when it’s someone innocent. When it’s someone alone. When it’s one of our friends.”

Sam frowns at him. "Yeah, against anyone other than hunters. These hunters are way smarter. I just feel like we're running head first into their traps. Picking us off one by one and then what? How're we gonna save Brett?"

She sighs once he gives her an almost pouting look. "Fine. I'll go with you."

Scott nods. “All of you go. I’ll catch up.”

Scott tries to stand, groans and falls back onto the ground, letting out a huff. “I just need a minute.”

Malia looks at Sam. “You go, I’ll stay with him.”, she says.

Sam nods, "Just…stay safe. I'll know if something happens.", she says and leaves with Liam and Lori.

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ziggityzigg · 20 days

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Welcome to my blog! We have chubby representation

Chubby representation

#chubby representation #httyd #httyd oc #i cannot stop #choa the critcal

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spookykoolkat · 6 months

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kinktober | pretty mama - j.m.

kinktober day eleven - breeding

pairing: joel miller x plus size!reader

wc: 3.48k

summary: after the beginning years of telling your husband you weren't ready for a baby, your four year marriage anniversary came up in the fall and you were having a little bit of baby fever.

warnings: 18+ ONLY! NO MINORS ALLOWED!! teasing, fingering, slight car sex if you squint, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, creampie, u protected penetration (p in v), dirty talk, talks of being a mother, pet names, talks of getting you pregnant.

reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated and loved! THANK U SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! this ones for u guys!

⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧ °｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧°｡⋆༺♱༻⋆｡°⛧

YOU DIDN'T REALIZE HOW MUCH joel craved to see you pregnant. something you found was a bit odd but after being married to joel for a few years, you realized it was more endearing than anything.

it was like clockwork — every time you and joel had sex, he craved to fill you up. you always told him no, that you didn’t want him to cum inside of you even though you yourself wondered of the outcome.

not only did he have a small kink for wanting to watch his cum leak out of you, to think about you finding out you’re carrying a mini you and him in your womb – he ached for it. he imagined you walking around, swollen and round, achy feet and coming to him to make you feel better. to console you, to take care of you, to love you.

but tonight, your four year marriage anniversary, you felt something different. something that you’d never felt before, something that you couldn’t even imagine wanting.

joel couldn’t even wait before getting inside the house he fixed up for you, kissing you against the front door with his key jiggling in the doorknob.

he took you to your favorite restaurant to celebrate, having a couple of glasses of wine and mindlessly laughing with each other, like a normal married couple. but you were feeling particularly needy.

rubbing your heeled feet against his calf, rubbing up and resting your chin on your palm as his eyes grew dark. it was an exciting scene, and feeling your heel press into the thick of his thigh, he couldn’t wait to get you home any longer.

you were dressed in a deep red dress that cinched at your waist and acted as a corset, flowing out down your hips. paired with your black pumps with the thick heel and your skin scented with your sweet perfume he loved - he couldn’t stop staring at you.

“quit it,” he mumbled behind the wine glass, still letting you rub up to his crotch under the table.

too dim to notice movement underneath, everyone too deep in conversation to acknowledge the couple next to them.

“i’m not doing anything,” you said, using your fork to scrape against the plate.

“i’m serious, honey.”

and he was. because the minute the two of you left, he had your leg thrown over his thigh while he drove, his fingers curling up inside of your hole that leaked for him.

“joel please,” you cried, gripping onto the seat as your pretty red dress sat above the thick of your thighs.

“what is it, baby? what do ya need?” his condescending voice only made you clench harder around his fingers, feeling your cunt throb in response.

“you! i need you, please,” he only curled his fingers at a relentless pace, the only thing being heard was the light sound of the radio and your cunt gushing around his fingers.

“oh? you need me? ‘s that why you were actin’ all needy in there?” he smirked, coming to a red light and being able to watch himself finger your hole, watching you sink into the leather seat and prop yourself against the door.

luckily for you, joel had just the perfect amount of tint to prevent anyone from really seeing how you get for him. even though he wouldn’t mind, he liked the thought of claiming you in every way.

but now, joel opened the door finally and pushed you inside to aim for the bedroom.

“what do you need from me, sweetheart?” he asked, fingers tugging at the buttons of his white dress shirt after shucking off his shoes and blazer.

your fingers were tugging at your panties already, still walking backwards to the main hall of your home. as you watched him walk towards you while taking off his top, you shook your heels off to take off a few inches of your height and finally reach the bedroom that was lit by the fairy lights you hung up — ones that joel fought you on, but you won anyways.

the back of your knees hit the bed when you felt a cool breeze from the autumn wind blow through the open window, and you sat on the mattress while leaning on your palms.

he stood in front of you, shirtless and unbuckling his pants as he stared you down:

“i think,” you sighed dramatically, “i think i need you to fill me up.”

he wasted no time to strip off his clothes and yours, leaving both of you bare as he crawled on top of you and spread your legs with his calloused hands. you might say that his hands are your favorite thing about him, but it seemed like every part of him drove you mad without trying.

“do ya know what you’re sayin’ right now, baby?” joel asked, humming into your neck as he kissed and licked over the skin.

you stared at the ceiling, a smile on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your cheek into his.

“mhm, i know. i need it, joel. need to know how it feels when you cum inside of me,” you said lowly into his ear, and you swore you heard him practically growl as his hand snaked between your bodies.

“you want me t’ knock you up? you gonna let me put my babies right here,” he asked, pressing down on the fat of your lower tummy before inching his way to your mound.

you just nodded, whining as you felt his hand start to spread your cunt.

“joel, please, need you to breed me, please,” before you could cry for him again, his hand swiftly goes to grab you by your jaw and chin, squeezing the chub of your cheeks together so he can graze his nose against your ear.

“say it again, tell me again,” he growled, and you bucked your hips up to try to rub your cunt against his bare cock, but he kept you down.

“fuck, cum inside of me please, please knock me up,”

you heard something animal like come from his throat, grabbing you harshly and pulling you up to lay back on a few pillows. he grabbed you by your thighs and pushed them up, exposing your sex to him so he could see every detail.

he needed to admire you like this, the way your tummy bulges more than usual because of your knees near your chest, the way your thighs pushed the lips of your cunt together — covered in your slick. he loved watching you like this, seeing how you let him maneuver you however he wanted.

still, with your legs pressed together against your chest as far as they could reach, joel sat on his knees and guided his tip between the thick lips of your cunt. he watched as your pussy covered him in your arousal, only watching as he slid between the lips, up your cunt and between your thighs.

“such a pretty baby, gonna let me pump you full? full of me?” he huffed as he fucked between your thighs, rubbing his shaft and balls over your cunt.

your arms wrapped around the back of your thighs to hold yourself for him, and he smiled, kissing your calf and up your feet. moving his cock from rubbing between the fat of your thighs, he slowly let his member spread your cunt generously to rub over your hooded clit, down to prod at your tight hole.

“yes, please, fill me baby,” you whined, feeling him start to sink into you, inducing you to stretch and mold around him.

“mmm, fuck, always thinkin’ of fillin’ you up, always thinkin’ what you’d look like carryin’ my babies,” he grunted, taking over where you held your legs for him, spreading them wide and slotting between them.

“fuck, joel please, please,” you were begging, aimlessly, but he only gave you more inches as he maneuvered his hips to slide further inside of your warmth.

you could feel the way his cock made its way into your cervix, the way he pumped in and out of you slowly after finally bottoming out made you feel every curve, every vein, the way his head nudged the spot you couldn’t reach with your fingers.

his mouth was everywhere, all over you as he pumped in and out of you kissing over your hot skin and the birth marks you had on your shoulders and neck. the dark freckles you hated, the stretch marks you thought you had too many of past the acceptable amount, the hair you tried to shave on your arms when you were a child — he worshiped all of you at every given moment.

his arms snaked under your body, hooking over your shoulders to have leverage to keep his pace relentless. he held you close to his body, using every ounce of strength he had to make sure you didn’t have to lift a single limb to do any of the work.

another thing about joel — he loved to just watch you take everything he had to give you.

“that’s right baby, hold on to me, let me make you feel good, gonna make sure i put a baby in ya,” he whispered in your ear over the wet slaps that bounced off the walls, and you listened.

you wrapped your thick legs around his waist, locking him in a hold with your calves as your arms wrapped around his, still holding you by your shoulders to keep you on his cock. your moans and whimpers would sound desperate, like you’d never be able to have him like this again, and you gripped at his forearms with your manicured nails.

he loved when you were like this. desperately trying to get him closer, anymore closer to you than he already was, trying to grip onto him, to ground yourself with him. but it was never enough, you could never get enough of joel. no matter how many times he’s fucked you, or had you like this — you needed more.

the thought of joel being a father to your kids never failed to make you swell with warmth, it never failed to make you fuzzy at the thought of joel claiming you in another sense. to make you a mother, the mother of his children, to have that tie forever and so everyone can know who you are made for — it sent a different type of pride in you.

he wanted to get you pregnant, show the world that he had you to create and hold a life that you both had something to do with. to show everyone that he is the only one who could give you the world and more, to know that he’s practically locked you down in every way gave him a sense of security.

the thought only sent your cunt to clench around the girth of his cock, something you’d never get used to be thoroughly enjoyed every time he gave himself to you.

“fuck, fuck joel, fuck! so good, so so so good, wanna have your baby so bad,” you cried, and joel grunted at the thought as he situated himself on his knees.

his hands were sunken into your plush tummy, hands gripping the fat of your body to hold up half of his weight and hold you down, as if you were going to slip away from him. he held you to the bed with his hands, pulling back and watching your legs unwrap around his waist to being held in the air, bent at the knee. without missing a beat, joel’s mouth hangs open a little at the sight and moved his hands from holding you by your waist, to grabbing your legs and holding you spread open by your thighs.

this way, he could see every bit of you, the way your cunt sucked him in and made obscene sounds of squelching, how your tits looked pressed together, bouncing with fervor to each thrust. he imagined how they’d look when you were pregnant, how they’d fatten and round up as a response to your hormones and child-bearing body.

“i know honey,” he cooed, licking his lips as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your cunt, “such a pretty pussy, ain’t lettin’ no on else have ya, you’re mine baby, all fuckin’ mine,”

his southern accent came out more in his grunts and moans, losing concentration of anything else but you.

he couldn’t imagine you getting any sexier, more desirable until he thought about you with his baby. after, especially. seeing you in a rocking chair with the baby in your arms, reading a story or cuddling them until they fell asleep. he remembered when he first met you. so outgoing, couldn’t get you to stay home, partying and doing all types of drugs. to be frank, he wasn’t approving of your way of life.

he always worried about you, had to pick you up shitfaced at clubs, wanting to make sure you weren’t getting into any trouble. of course you did, there was a time joel had to bail you and tommy out of jail together because the two of you thought it was smart to get into a tussle at the bar with an obnoxious couple. joel never trusted tommy after that, mad at him for letting you do that, but you had to step in and tell him it was your decision.

after that night, joel let you know how he felt. how your reckless ways weren’t fair for him, how he worried about you constantly, hoping you don’t end up drunk in a ditch somewhere. thinking about you now, asking him to make you a mother, only going out when joel went with you because you got tired of going out every night with your friends as you got older. now when you get drunk you aren’t crazy and sloppy, you were giggly or emotional. he admired your growth, and it even made him smile with pride realizing even though you changed some of your ways, you were still you at heart.

he just knows you’re going to be the cool mom, the fun, exciting mom. he didn’t mind taking the burden of being the one to discipline and being not so fun to be around, it just made him flutter at the thought. knowing you went from crazy, wild and a party girl to wanting to be the mother of his kids made him warm. he had never loved anything as much as he loved you.

“gonna be such a pretty mama, ain’t you? my perfect fuckin’ wife,” he growled, almost to himself as he stared down at you.

no matter what, every time joel looked at you, you felt heat rush into your cheeks. this doesn’t change, not even when your bare underneath him.

your eyes focus on his, watching his hair tousle and sweat form on his body. you couldn’t think, not even what to do with the rest of your limbs he wasn’t gripping onto, so you just hooked your arms under your calf, and held yourself open for him.

“good fuckin’ girl, already knows what to do for me,” he smirked, watching you hold your folded position as far back as you can to open your cunt for him, just so he can see the hood of your clit between your lips and watch your hole flutter around his cock as you watched him.

every time he soaked you in, you couldn’t help but clench. joel enjoyed watching you almost as much as you enjoyed watching him watch you.

he smacked you on your ass a couple of times, stinging with every thrust he began to speed up with. your breath was being knocked out of you, no air in your lungs as he fucks into you to try to angle himself to hit your g-spot. it didn’t take much at all, especially not even he bent his knee to plant one foot on the bed and burying himself to a hilt.

watching him like this, have so much desire and want for you enough to scrounge up any way to just be further pressed into you made the bundle of heat in your lower tummy nearly explode.

“please, please, please cum in me, please, want your cum so bad, make me yours, wanna be good for you,” you rambled, breathy sentences coming out and not completely clear to you, but very clear to joel.

he felt himself losing control watching you take his length, watching the ring of your arousal build on his cock. he couldn’t get used to how drenched you became at the sight of him, how slick you felt every time he slid between your folds. how his face and the scruff of his grown out beard would always be soaked coming up for air from your cunt — it was addicting.

because he could be between your legs for hours, until you finally begged him to stop, to let up on your sore sex.

“always so wet f’me, always ready to take my cock, always ready f’ me to plant my seed right,” he trailed, grabbing one of your hands from the backs of your thighs and using it to push onto your lower tummy that slightly hung over your mound, “here,”

his hand rested on yours, and watched as your eyebrows furrowed into pleasure, your eyes fluttering and felt as if they were going cross eyed. vision blurred as you felt the undeniable pressure of your release threatening to spill over. you could feel him in your stomach, you could feel him everywhere.

“such a pretty mess, ready for me to make her a mama, wantin’ t’ be mine forever, let me breed her pretty cunt whenever i want,” he whispered, and moved his hand down to your cunt to gather your juices that was covering his cock and spread it to your clit.

he stuttered a moment, enjoying the way your hips tried to fuck back onto him, wanting to meet his thrusts with persistence. when you finally got into the rhythm, joel used his two fingers to rub firmly onto your clit.

“gonna look so pretty filled with my cum, ain’t that right? cum for me, baby, make a mess on my cock pretty girl, let me feel you,” his words were too much for you, wanting to hold on for him, to cum together but it looked like you couldn’t help yourself.

“gonna cum, gonna cum, joel, m’ c-cumming for you,” you moaned, followed by a heavy gasp caused by the jolts of your body after the knot in your tummy pulled apart and unraveled under him.

he was the only one that could pull that reaction from you, the only one who got to see you shake under his hold, and god did he love it. he loved how you milked his cock until he felt his hips go sloppy, grabbing you harder than he knows, his mouth hanging open as he winced from the overstimulation of your cunt not letting go.

he could do this over and over again, except this time, cumming inside of you was an entirely new situation. not only were you dripping down his shaft, but his last few thrusts into you and he came with a gravelly moan, one that made you throb around his cock.

it was almost beautiful the way he made you feel warm, inside and out. the ropes of his hot release coated your walls entirely, and his hips slowly kept gliding in and out of you very softly. in his mind he was making sure you had a chance of carrying his baby, and even if not, he’d have the chance to do it over and over again until then.

it’s all he could dream of really, filling you up with the purpose of making you a mother.

“baby,” he breathes, letting your legs lay straight on the bed, his weight falling onto your body and he traps you.

your bodies are sticky, covered in sweat and spit, your juices coating his entire groin and the bed. it was lovely, something that wasn’t at all sexual given how unflattering it is to be sweaty, disheveled and out of breath, but still you had a sense of lust and desire for him. love, is what you felt. and love was sensual, sexual, emotional, spiritual — it was everything.

and as you laid there under joel while he gave small kisses over the skin exposed to him, playing with his hair and joel whispering to tell you how you are going to be the most amazing, beautiful mother there is — you couldn’t have imagined having a kid, being a mother, especially not to anyone else’s child. anyone but joel.

TAGLIST

@awilderi @nerdieforpedro @cyb3rluvvxx @joelmillers-girl @pedritoferg @bethanymccauley @subconsciouscollapse @teyamsgrl

i hope u enjoyed! thank u so much for the support and for reading!

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sillyfairygarden · 1 month

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90 minute leyendecker study b4 bed. heard cleo has a cat cafe this season :swoons:

#thellos art corner #zombiecleo fanart #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mcyt fanart #mcyt #ok time for a peek inside my skull: i really contemplated not posting this. not for any reasons of disliking it #im pretty conscious about how fat people are characterized/portrayed around food in media. both in fan works and canonized material #(flashbacks to hunk from voltron) i really think about ways to defy the way fat bodies are portrayed in my works. while also staying normal #i think at the end of the day i really see food as a love language. and serving people i love (even if its just coffee) brings me joy #even if theres a one-dimensional box that fat characters get put into regarding food. it makes me happy! so i'll try to do it with grace #i think representation isnt always this mentally twisting lol. but its definitely something i think about.#i hope i can positively project my feelings about food and love onto a plus size body (as a chubby girl :handheart:) and showcase that love #ok yeah yeah its 11pm. time to put meemaw in bed. if you read all this ur rad <3 also i stopped watching HC peeposad

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burr-ell · 1 year

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I'll preface this by saying that I don't by any means begrudge anyone their own personal headcanons or interpretations, but I kinda have to get it off my chest that I'm personally not very comfortable with significant deviations from canon character design on CR, and I really tend to side-eye people who have declared their fanart to be "better".

And sure, some of that is because i'm a cranky old bastard. But some of that is that I also have an animation degree and have studied character design. Creators generally give artists a fair amount of input as to how they want their designs to connote the characters' personalities—not just in terms of clothing or hairstyle, but in the overall shape of the silhouettes and body structures. And in the case of CR in particular, that's coming from a place of much closer familiarity with the characters because the creator is actually going to be embodying them for a fairly long period of time, so when the fan response is heavy deviation from that, I think it can feed into some unhealthy fanon perceptions and projections.

Like, for example, it's not so much that I think fanartists are "disrespecting the creators" or whatever when they keep giving Imogen a sweet little round face and big hips/breasts and cute circular glasses, but I've also studied shape language in art. You're communicating something when you design her this way; if a character's silhouette has a lot of circles, visually that connotes being friendly, sweet, and cute. The person who first suggested drawing her with glasses explicitly said they thought it would look cute—and no shade to them! They can like whatever they want!

But canonically, Imogen is a woman in her 20s who's been dealing with unanswered questions, abandonment, loneliness, and sheer exhaustion from trying to hold back and control powers that she never asked for—and who simultaneously uses those powers even when it isn't necessary if she thinks it'll help her achieve a goal or prove a point. She isn't unfriendly, and she wants to do the right thing, but she's also someone who's consciously chosen to keep to herself for most of her life, and yet simultaneously she's quite adept at persuading and deceiving people. I think we're meant to pick up that sense of world-weariness and cynicism from her angular facial features and thin frame. That's...kind of just how character design works.

I think the trend of disregarding the official art and giving her softer features has had an impact on the perception of Imogen as a character. I see a lot of views of her that really remove a lot of her agency, treating her like she's only ever been a victim of circumstance who's never put a foot wrong. Some fans got pushback for pointing out that it really wasn't cool for Imogen to openly contemplate whether or not the Ruby Vanguard might be right in front of three people who were killed by Otohan, insisting that imogen was just dealing with a lot right then. And yes, she was, but that doesn't mean that the way she was dealing with it doesn't say something about her as a character. I don't know if I'd call it coddling, necessarily (even though perhaps there are some very coddling takes I just haven't seen), but there seems to be some resistance, in some circles, to the idea that Imogen isn't a put-upon martyr. And in those same circles, round friendly-looking glasses-wearing Imogen abounds, to the point of editing the official art itself to "fix it".

Truth be told I'd be willing to bet that the rounder cuter Imogen actually came about because of the initial impression of her, given how much fanon at the start of c3 revolved around poor baby Imogen with her scary nightmares needing the wiser, worldlier Laudna to comfort her and kiss it better, but those visuals also proliferated rather quickly and well beyond past the point where that fanon was feasible anymore, and I think both aspects of that fanon ended up informing each other. It's not lost on me that the rounder and cuter-looking Imogen performs the literal function of sanding down her harder edges.

And like I said, I'm not here to be needlessly negative toward what other people want to do. If you want to draw the characters differently to their official art, I don't think either the cast or the artist are especially offended by it. But I personally dislike it, in part because I think some of these trends are a way for fans to claim a certain amount of ownership over the characters, whether they intend it or not. And the ultimate outcome of that is that when creators inevitably assert their ownership over a deeply personal story in a way that fans don't like, the backlash is much stronger than it reasonably should be, which is something I think the CR fandom has seen often enough not to continue doing as often as it does.

#cr meta #critical role #cr discourse #cr wank #i think chubby jester vs skinny jester also falls into this #and don't get me wrong i 100% support representation of body types and the cast does too #but there's a certain amount of overlap between chubby jester and weird fanwanky c2 stans #it's. usually the folks who cling to fanon art interpretations who get the most angry at the cast when things don't go their way #like i don't have StatsTM or whatever to prove it but i've noticed some trends #also it's always the female characters and particularly laura bailey's characters who get hit with this attitude the most #like! just say you don't like a call laura made! i promise you no one's gonna call 911!

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