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#take care of yourselfs y'hear?
catzgam3rz · 2 years
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everything you need is within you
you are stronger than you know
you are the daylight
you are the night
the darkness you fight is within you
the light you seek is within you
you are not alone
Good Game, Mr. Blade
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carbonateddelusion · 2 years
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Hope you are taking care of yourself and stay hydrated! 🌟 - 🥧
aw, thank you pie anon! 'm trying my best :] already off to a pretty good start to the day because I slept well for once, so I'm hoping today'll be pretty okay
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churipu · 2 months
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JJK MEN REACTING TO YOU GETTING LEFT OUT BY YOUR FRIENDS 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, inumaki toge.
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. just jjk men being overprotective of you bye, and cursing.
note. guysssss, no requests pls, they're not open :(( and if you sent one in, i apologize but they're going to take a bit of time to do :(
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
before you did — gojo had already sensed that your friends were shit. believe me when i say that he has tried talking to you about it from the moment you introduced him to them during your weekly "girls night".
but you said that your friends were fine. gojo doesn't think so. ever since that day, every time you said you were going out with your friends; he came along with you, not leaving you out of his sight.
that includes today. your "girls night" or whatever — when you try to convince gojo that he didn't need to come with, but all he said was, "i am one of the girls, aren't i?"
so he came along. and he didn't regret it. not. one. bit.
your friends, he didn't even know how to describe them without slipping in a curse or two. because he couldn't believe you were actually friends with these douchebags. it was plain obvious they were leaving you out on purpose.
whenever you try to chime in the conversation, your voice is immediately toppled over by one of them. or when you try to walk beside them, they step a bit further — on purpose. he could tell.
the male was really glad he could smell the stench from a long time ago. so when you and him were walking behind them, fingers interlocked. he stopped walking, and it made you stop too, "what's wrong, 'toru?"
"let's go," he tugged you in the opposite direction from where your friends are walking to, "they don't deserve you."
the male was very upset for you. he wasted no time driving you home with him, giving you the love you deserved (and a pep talk on why you should never ever talk to your friends again).
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji didn't even care whether he knows your friends or not. but when you convinced him that they wanted to meet him, he agreed (begrudgingly).
and everything went south when he noticed the different way they react to you — and to him. you and your friends were a trio.
it's always a trio. he never gets it, he's seen his fair share of shitty friendships among people. that's why he doesn't have friends (or people don't want to befriend him, doesn't matter).
it wasn't even a trio any more. it was a duo, with you on the side. toji noticed the subtle way they share a look to each other whenever you start talking — or the way they nudge each other when you do something. god, it pisses him off.
he swore if you weren't there, he'd resort to violence.
when you excuse yourself to go to the restroom, toji of course takes the chance to give a small talk (straight up threatening) to them. he waved to you vaguely as you walk towards the direction of the restroom.
"don't ever fucking talk to my partner again after this. y'hear me?"
the mood plummeted and you realized after you came back from the restroom. but you said nothing about it.
and like toji threatened, your friends never talked or contacted you ever again. which obviously saddened you — but the male told you how shitty they are and that it was a good thing they're not talking to you anymore.
to this day, you still didn't know it was toji behind it all.
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
he has no shame in speaking his mind. and he immediately sensed how your friends were treating you differently from the first time he sees them. the male wastes no time giving them the eyes, where he was clearly telling them to fuck off.
when you and your friends (and him) decided to take a break inside a restaurant, he was pissed. sukuna, didn't even want to come with at the first place — he actually forced himself to come for you. he wanted to make sure your friends knew their place.
he has a bold tongue. sukuna is spicy with his words, he could care less about what people think of him. so the second he hears a disrespectful comment from either one of your friends directed to you to make you feel like you're the odd one out, the male glowered at them.
"mind repeating that?" he questions calmly, but something in his voice was intimidating. as if he was about to jump up from his seat and strangle the hell out of your friends.
of course, your friends were silent. afraid of him.
"exactly." the male stood up, tugging you along with him out of the restaurant, "what friends you have."
you were embarrassed at the comment, and sukuna sensed that too. even if he was tempted to say more things about your friends — he held back. for you.
"you don't need friends. what more do you need than me?"
𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄
believe me when i say that he contemplated using his cursed speech technique on your friends. he had seen you come back from a night out with your friends, upset and teary eyed.
and from that day, he's always hated them. so when you said that you were going to hang out with them again — inumaki followed you, trailing after you like a lost puppy.
actually — scratch that, you were the lost puppy. trailing after your friends, behind them like you aren't even a part of the group. if it weren't for inumaki being there, it would just be you alone.
inumaki mutters out a lot of, "salmon" and "tuna mayo" to you. fuming.
you grabbed his hand, swinging it happily. at this point, you didn't even care about your friends — as long as inumaki was there, you didn't feel alone like you used to. so you did what you had to do since long ago.
ditch them.
"thank you for being here, toge."
inumaki was happy now, no longer in a foul mood, and he squeezed your hand, "tuna mayo!"
a little translation: "i'm hungry."
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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normal-internet-user · 5 months
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Sooooooooooooo~~~ I've got more DC brainworms. I have come to share. 🤲🏼
Picture this, wildflower. *throws arm around your shoulder, gestures to the empty space in front of us, envisioning* A young (eventual) bat!sibbie reader who has a very similar essence to Jason.
and I mean....... literally. a mini Jason. lmaooo listenlistenlisten — yn is a scrappy, free-spirited orphan who comes from the slums of Gotham; they've been here a while, only giving a noncommittal shrug and wry smile when inquired about any of it. same story for a lot of us 'round here.
—and wouldn't it just be hilarious if they came into the Batfam the same way Jase did? By STEALING 👏🏼 HUBCAPS. 👏🏼
except it don't gotta be hubcaps, yn is a ✨professional✨ and a 🔥savage🔥 and just straight up carjacked the Batmobile LMALAOAOAOO (they earn Jason's utmost respect right off the bat [BAT PUN 🦇]; Steph, Dick, and Duke are the runner-ups). Bruce probably gains a new neck vein but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued!
thennnnn you muck up when you give the slightest inclination that you know his secret identity bcz it'd be significantly more terrifying (read: hilarious) than if you were to fall victim to the cliche 'i saw something i wasn't supposed to and now I'm being taken hostage by these randos in masks and oh holy smokes it's actually multi-billionaire airhead himbo Bruce Wayne!? and his KIDS!!??'
time skip because seamless transition, bing bada boom, they're Bruce's newest ward and filling the tabloids. while it may be a hot story that the entirety of the paparazzi froth at the mouths at, it's a different story behind the scenes.
reader has a sweet, dear personality at the core, but they put up a detached front; if anything, their crude humor and witty deadpan sarcasm attests to their harsh emotional walls put up.
it's nothing personal to these guys, they're just... constantly in self-perservation mode. they ain't never had nobody like this before, 'cept for their fellow street rat friends who're like family.....
I imagine those walls get worn down by Jason the most.
I also imagine Jason would be.... angry?? not at you!! never at you — if anything he'd probably steal you away from Bruce every chance he gets because he's scared you'll be readily thrusted into an unwitting role as a cowl-donner — but at Bruce's initial and seemingly impulsive decision to take you in- because of just how fast everything moved. he was a bit withdrawn at first, but he became undeniably protective over you as time went on.
you appreciate this earnestly; one day on your outings with Jason, he passes by the streets where you usually hung out with your friends. sure enough, they're all there, looking horrendously forlorn. you give out the group whistle- one you all made up and agreed on a longgggg time ago- and they all look at you like you're a ghost before you're being yanked into a group hug.
some of 'em are mad tho; they all caught wind, ever since you were printed in black and white on the newspapers lil' jimmy still brought to them fresh every morning. thought you ditched us for daddy warbucks. and some of 'em are genuinely happy, not only to see you, but had been for you. thought you managed to finally get outta this hellhole. we knew you wouldn't forget us, tho.
you're smart, yvette - your bestest friend ever since elementary - murmured as she hugged you so tight you could barely breathe. you're smart and warm and so kind... i'mma miss your candy apple self not being around me 24/7 any more, but heavens above, you made it, ynnie any foster parent would be blessed to have you as a kid, y'hear? anybody and everybody. she pulls you back and rests her forehead on yours, staring into your eyes with her tear-filled ones. don't forget 'bout us, yeah? we still got your back. stay safe and take care of yourself.
and if you silently cried on the way back to the manor, Jason didn't say much about it. just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and took you for burgers.
—i feel that incident would settle you deeper into Jason's heart. he just sees so much of himself in you. in this scrappy kid who puts up such a carefree front, but is actually made of honey and caramel at their center. who has such a strong emotional intelligence at that age that Jason's sure is the only difference between him and you. in this child, who has a pure heart full of love with so much to give and just wants to be loved in return.
reader's softest with Cass and Alfred, as in they feel no need to put up pretenses with them. it's how they both find out that you're perpetually jaded and reminiscent of a long-suffering lamb: soft, tolerant, brokenhearted, shreds of innocence swirling about their heart still, maybe a little lost......
SPEAKING OF THE GRANDLER HIMSELF 🌹🎉: you get roped into baking with Alfred one day, and because Alfred is the actual MVP, you fall into his affections too.
it's when you're kneading at dough when a crestfallen expression suddenly overtakes your expression.
"mr. alfred," you drawl, inner city accent thickening with the melting of your posture. there's a heaviness to your tone that wasn't there before. it catches the elderly man's attention immediately. "you remind me a lot of my old man. not my father, but there was this elderly gentleman who took care of us street urchins. old man peaches. cuz every time we saw him, he sold us fresh peaches from his little milk carton in trade for some colorful bottle caps. dunno where he got 'em, said he grew them out the cracks in the concrete, the geezer. he was always talkin' like that — like there was some deeper meaning to everythin'. we groaned all the time, made all in good fun of him right to his face, but we all really loved it.
"one day, me 'n yvette were scouting 73rd and maryanne avenue; it's the curve that has all those connectin' alleyways that hide the abandoned warehouses, y'know? it's also where we hid out with peaches. had a small space heater and brought anything we needed from the foster care buildin'. sometimes we'd get dragged back but you keep doing something enough times, them folks who don't get paid enough for it just stop givin' a hoot... so long s'we made it back for inspections and didn't pilfer the good stuff, y'know?
"anyway. we went in there hollerin' for mr. peaches... he was usually napping by the space heater or stringing bottle cap jewelry for us, but he wasn't there. searched the whole warehouse, whole perimeter, nothing.
"then, vettie found him... " you pause, a smile that didn't reach your eyes spreading your cheeks. "right by the compost bin outside the back door of that same warehouse, chest not movin' and lips stained with blueberries."
alfred feels his stomach drop, beside himself. you looked up from the dough in your hands and simply regarded the old man, an uncharacteristic nonchalance marring your features.
"he was the only one that really understood and looked out for us the way he did. i ain't been able to eat peaches or anything of the like since then, but vettie is the one who couldn't sleep for the weeks after."
Alfie had long stopped chopping the onions for the dish at this point and all he could think was what has this poor child gone through?
TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TRAUMA TR
anywaaaaayzzzuh, I'm exhausted BUT yeah I just want to infect you lovingly with the brainworms of Jason bonding with a bat sibling reader who's a lot like him, and how he'd prevent a lot of pain that they ain't gotta go through because he went through the same.
And the things that he CAN'T prevent, because everyone deals with trauma differently, he's always gonna be there for you. And he wants you to know that.
reader is a bit wary of Dick because of his pure bubbliness and aura of flowers 🌸🌺🌻🌹🌷🌼💐and shooting stars — in Gotham?? — but Dick has an affinity to troubled kids and also . he's Dick Grayson, everybody loves him .
so he works together with Jason and soon enough, you're practically his respective child akshdjdhd
you and dami take a bit to come along BUTTTTT I hc that you come into their lives when Dami's a little older and therefore more matured.
I love Damian, I feel he'd be a pretty solid older brother figure.
the more time you spend there, the more you begin to trust your newfound family. (well, your pseudo siblings at least); the more you let your walls down, the more they get a peek into your true self- not just the distant exterior you put up.
you're thoughtful and generous; you like books and animals and know how to make ice cream from scratch with ice and plastic bags; you're resourceful and crafty - you learned how to hot wire cars and pick locks from the older kids down at the foster care home - but you don't try to give anyone headaches for it out of respect for Alfred, you claim solemnly.
you're a good kid.
it just takes a bit more for people to say that, and even more for you to let others see it.
I'LL BE BACK WITH MORE BUT PLEASE NOTE THAT I WROTE THIS THROUGHOUT THE NIGHT, CONTINUALLY PASSED OUT, AND IT'S THE FRICKIN MORNING ALREADY LMAOAOAOAOAOOO
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OH MY GOD.
OH.
MY.
GOD.
ZEEP.
ZEEP WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME-
I just- Can I just-
If Brucie EVER tried to but reader in a cape Jason would lose his MIND.
How DARE you even THINK about putting the baby at risk? How dare you?
Totally just takes reader and brings them to his apartment until Bruce apologizes for even suggesting such a proposterous thing.
He's eventually forgiven but he's on thin ice okay?
Sleepovers at Jason's are also a very common thing.
Since he lives in the Narrows, it gives you the chance to roam your old stomping grounds and see your friends.
Poor reader has to go to all kinds of fancy dinner parties now.
Public appearences.
Such a drag.
Uncomfy clothes, and uncomfy people.
So, being the feral little street raised shit they are, reader says the most out of pocket freaky crap ever.
"Yeah, living in the Narrows as a kid was hard. Especially after the accident."
"Oh, yeah. I love my new home. The velociraptor in the backyard is a sweetheart."
"What do you mean Jason's supposed to be dead? He obviously got better. I've done it more than once. Yes I've died before. They said I can't tell you what comes after. Who's they? Don't worry about it."
And literally no one can say anything because their new dad is one of the richest men on Earth.
Also their first fancy gala something definitly went wrong.
Like lets says it gets targeted for some kind of robbery 'cus, ya know Gotham. And it's full of rich people.
Reader is literally like, "Fuck no. Get the hell out."
Grabs a bottle of champagne and breaks it over the ring leaders head with a loud shout of "ANARCHY!"
ALFIE AND OLD MAN PEACHES-
OH MY GOD I'M CRYING. I HOPE YOU KNOW I'M IN TEARS-
Also, the little punk stealing the CAR is hilarious. So much potential there.
Dick *interrupting Bruce for the upteenth time*: "Hey, B?"
Bruce *Severly annoyed*: "Yes, Nightwing? What is it?"
Dick: "Who's driving the car?"
*Que Jason wheezing over the comms*.
Dickie gives all kinds of nicknames.
Little wing, hoodlum, baby bird-
Him and Jason compete for your time.
Like there is an underground betting pool for who can get you to spend more time with whom.
Jason shows you all hid hidey places around the manor if you ever need a place to just- be
Tim helps with homework when Jason's not around (which isn't very often, Jason makes a point of visitiing often just to see you)
It makes for wonderful bonding with your busiest brother.
Damian, (though he will never admit it out loud), enjoys it when you join him in taking care of his animals.
Batcow and Jerry love you, and Alfred the cat has taken to sleeping in your room.
The two of you take Titus and Ace for walks, and Damian very smugly rubs it in Jason's face when a tabloid photo pops up of the two of you in matching sweaters and sunglasses.
"Clearly I am the superior brother, Todd. Even the media agrees."
"Well then I know it's bullshit because the media says it's true."
"Tt."
I HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN INTO STEPH AND DUKE AND CASS AND BABS UGGHHH
THERE'S OTHER STUFF I wanna ADD BUT I'VE MADE YOU WAIT LONG ENOUGH I'M SO SORRY-
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Hi I just found out about ur page I love it so much! Could I request a smut oneshot with sub!timothee chalamet and dom!fem reader, basically the first time Timmy realizes he likes to be on the sub side more, there's a lot of flirting from both ends and 🐱 eating with him on his knees or in another positing(idrc), choking and prompts 1, 6, 7,16, 18 from the smut section mixed in there. I tried to make this as detailed as possible as to help you, there is absolutely no problem if you can't/don't want to do it, I understand; sending love<3333
Dirty
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GIF by mserdbeeri
masterlist
gif doesn't suit the fic well, i just thought he looked good in it 😔
pairing: sub!timothée chalamet x dom!fem reader 
summary: timothée has always been the more dominant one but when he lets you take control one night, he finds himself liking it a bit too much. 
warnings: choking, marking, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), hand job, hair pulling, timothée calls reader “ma’am” once, degrading if you squint, riding, “traffic light” safeword system in use 
word count: 1.8k 
a/n: sorry this took me so long to get to anon, hope this was worth the wait tho, enjoy <3 out of all the unholy words i used today, ‘panties’ was the one i cringed at the most. why am i like this? also, i wrote this over the span of 3 bloody weeks (thanks to my laptop bombing out and me having to get a new one) so you’ll notice the reader goes through stages of being kinda sadistic to being caring. oh well.
promps: smutty 1. “you look good but you’d look so much better with my hand wrapped around your throat.” 6. “you're mine. y'hear me? fucking mine.” 7. “touch me… please…” 16. “harder…” 18. “needy little thing, aren't you?”
not proofread cause i get second hand embarrassment when i read smut which i’ve written :’)
— — — — — X — — — — — 
you gaze down at your boyfriend who is obediently kneeling in front of you as his skilled tongue laps at your cunt, desperate to please you and get something in return. you use every ounce of self restraint in you to stop yourself from throwing your head back and letting loud moans escape you. you refused to miss this, the sight was something you never wanted to forget. 
you smirk down at the desperate man, eyes greedily roaming his exposed, bare body and the marks which you placed on his pale and delicate skin. his eyes slowly drift closed and you admire the blissful look on his face for a moment before your hand gently snakes into his hair, slightly tugging at the roots, a silent indication to open his eyes. 
he either doesn't get the hint or doesn't care as he continues to eat you like a starved man.
“timothée.” you breathe into the hot room as you tug at his hair again. he doesn't react but you know what he's doing, you know he heard you. “timothée .” you say, adding more strength into your words and in your actions as you pull his head back with the fistful of hair in your hand. 
the action forces his mouth away from you and makes him open his eyes. he lets out a whimper at the sudden movement and the brief moment of pain in his scalp. the look in his eyes makes you groan; desperation, confusion, excitement, lust. all of it combined as your lover gazes up at you as if you’re the only thing which matters in his world. 
“what did i say about keeping your eyes open?” you ask, running your hand through his messy locks. “if i don’t keep them open, you won’t touch me…” he whispers, eyes becoming glossy as he becomes painfully aware of his leaking cock which sits untouched on his trembling thighs. 
“correct.” you smile at him. it’s a sickly sweet smile which makes panic rise in him, knowing you had something up your sleeve. 
“on the bed.” you stand from your place, stepping out your panties and watching in silent amusement as timothée  scrambles from his place on the ground to the sheet clad mattress (which you know you'll have to wash later). you walk to your vanity and pull the chair out, sitting on it backwards to situate yourself in front of the bed and his anxious frame. 
“i said i wouldn’t touch you, right?” you ask rhetorically. “well, guess what?” you lean your arms forward, resting them on the back of the chair, “i never said you couldn't.” you smile cheekily at him, eyes shining with glee. 
his eyes widen and you look at him in anticipation. “what are you waiting for, love? don’t you want to cum?” your words seem to snap him out of his confused state and he shyly trails his hand down to his cock, wrapping his slender fingers around the base and slowly pumping it, groaning lowly at the new found friction which he’s craved all night. 
you silently watch him, drinking in his appearance and how he whines for you to help him. a few minutes of what he considers blissful torture pass before you speak up, “are you close, hmm?” you know damn well he is and you also know damn well that he can’t finish without your help. 
“please…” his voice is hoarse and you raise a brow at him. “please? please what?” his eyes squeeze shut, “touch me… please…” 
you chuckle at his words, a simple “no” reaching his ears and making him groan in frustration and dread. you place your head on your arms as you drink in the sight of the broken man on your bed, a sadistic smile gracing your lips. 
after a few minutes of watching him writhe and squirm as his hand works himself, you decide to be kind and help him out. you quietly stand and slide off the oversized shirt which hangs limply on your otherwise bare body before making your way over to timothée. 
his eyes snap open and a loud moan escapes his parted lips when he feels your hand replace his own, milking him for all he’s worth. his hands grab at everything in his reach, your arms, waist, breasts, anything to ground himself as he feels his high approach rapidly. you enjoy every second of his orgasm as you listen to his sweet whines and pleas, words of appreciation and love spewing from him like a waterfall. 
you release your grip on him but he chases your hand with his own, bringing it back to his aching cock which twitches at the contact. you chuckle airily at his desperation but continue stroking him, watching with amazement in your eyes as he squirms under your gaze and touch, another orgasm ripping through his body.
“you gonna give me another one?” you lean closer to his ear, “gonna cum again for me?” he shakes his head wildly, burying his face in your neck as tears start to form in his eyes. “c’mon, you can give me one more, can't you? you were so desperate for it a moment ago.” he whines and you smirk when you feel him thrust up into your hand. 
“there you go, cum for me.” his breaths come out quicker and he groans at your words, wildly bucking his hips upwards, chasing the orgasm which is building embarrassingly quickly. “needy little thing, aren't you?” you tease him. “such a dirty thing… my dirty boy.” you mutter and as if on cue, he tips over the edge and cums again with a small cry of pain and pleasure. 
you give him a few moments to calm down before you straddle him, pressing your lips to his bruised ones in a reassuring kiss. he gasps into your mouth as he feels your slick entrance against him, hips involuntarily bucking upwards. “fuck…” he mutters softly. “i don’t know if i can cum again…” he mutters, head foggy. “you’re not gonna leave me high and dry, are you?” you ask playfully. he frowns and shakes his head.
“colour?” you ask. although you were desperate for release, you weren’t about to make him uncomfortable or do something he wasn’t ok with. timothée seems to be in thought for a moment before he looks at you. “green.” and as if an afterthought, “fuck me…” 
you can't hold back the smile which is plastered on your face. “what was that?” you tease him, wanting to see how far you can push him off the edge. “please, ma’am… fuck me. fuck me, use me. wanna make you cum too.” 
the lust which you feel must be quite prominent on your face as he whines softly, hands grabbing your hips in an attempt to pull you down on him but you resist, hand yanking his head back by the hair again. the angle exposes his marked up neck and you internally scream at how good his jawline looks from this provocative angle. 
you dip your head down, placing your lips near his ear, “you look good but you’d look so much better with my hand wrapped around your throat.” you murmur as you rake your nails up and down his heaving chest, a shiver escaping him as you pass lightly over his nipple.  
your smug smile turns into a smirk as you watch the wrecked man below you. you feel a sense of pride as you wrap your hand around his throat and hear the moan which escapes him. the power which you hold and feel in this moment is intoxicating and you don't think you’ll ever get enough of it. “you're mine. y'hear me? fucking mine.” you whisper before kissing him harshly and pulling back to get a better look at his face. 
timothée opens his mouth but whatever he was about to say gets stuck in his throat as you sink yourself down on his cock, a broken whine being released in place of his lost words. he throws his head back and you feel your own tilt slightly, the pleasure hitting you both as your walls clench around him. “fucking hell.” you can't stop yourself from gasping, moving your hips ever so slightly. 
you bounce up and down, the sound of lewd clapping filling the room along with your mixed moans.  “harder…” his breathy words are barely audible but you manage to pick them up and quickly obey, quickening your pace and tightening the grip on his throat to sturdy yourself. 
your eyes bore into his and he squirms even more as pain, pleasure and excitement course through his tired body. his hands paw at your breasts as his breaths come out in sharp bursts. you would’ve laughed at his sheer desperation but you aren't any better, legs quivering and mouth open in a silent moan as you feel a heat build quickly in your lower abdomen. 
his fingers clamp down on your hips, most likely giving you bruises, as his eyes shut tightly and head tilts backwards. you release your grip on his neck and lean down to attach your lips to his now exposed flesh, moving your hand up to thread through his hair instead. your free hand travels down your body before it reaches your clit and rubs fast circles on the sensitive spot, your orgasm approaching just as quickly as timothée’s. 
before you know it, a strong feeling of pleasure washes over you as you reach your high and you collapse, bitting down on timothée’s neck, forcing him over the edge with you as strings of ‘fuck’s escapes him. 
you gently kiss the area which you had previously assaulted with your teeth in an attempt to apologise. the two of you lay in each other's embrace, deep and erratic breaths being the only sound in the once noisy room. you slightly wriggle on top of him at the odd feeling of his cum dripping down your thigh. from below you, timothée groans and you feel him twitch inside you. 
you lift your head up and raise a brow at him. he blushes bashfully and avoids your gaze, “i liked it.” you laughed lightly, “good to know but which part are you referring to?” you asked, not fully expecting an answer but he doesn’t seem to mind indulging your teasing question. “you being in control… it was nice…” he blush deepens even further. 
you can't help smirking at his shy demeanour, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “so what i’m hearing is,” you place a gentle kiss on his cheek, “you wouldn't  be opposed to doing this again?” he smiles at you, “not at all.” he leans up slightly to kiss you, arms wrapping around you to bring you even closer to him if possible. 
you shiver lightly when you feel him pull out slightly and then push himself back inside you. “so needy…” you mutter between kisses. “you made me like this.” he retorts with a grin. “well then,” you start, helping his movements along, “i guess i should fix it then.” 
his eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of you overstimulating him once more. it was going to be a long night. certainly one neither of you would forget. 
— — — — — X — — — — — 
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blingblong55 · 8 months
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Pride -141 + König
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Based on a request:
BLING!! *runs into the askbox* Blingy, a cuteass adorable reader but then when the guys turn around she just looks this with anyone who wants to fuck around and find out with her man.
F!reader, established!relationship, soldier!reader, fluff?
Dating him is probably the easiest of tasks, he is loyal, attentive, responsible, fun, and always respects your boundaries. If another woman is giving him attention, he is so oblivious to it and thinks it's all friendly but of course, you don't. There have been times when he has had to stop you from fighting a girl because she couldn't get the message that he is clearly taken. You know he is loyal, there is no doubt in that. But what really annoys you is how those women make him uncomfortable, if he is dating someone, then his love and attention go to his someone.
"Hey, handsome, here by yourself?" a woman in her early 20s tried to flirt with him but all he did was shake his head, once more oblivious to the flirtatious look she gave him. "I'm here with my girlfriend actually." She tries to play his comment off and smiles, "But she isn't around now, is she?" He looks at her confused, did this girl not understand you were literally in the establishment? "She is, she's just talking with her boss." He always referred to Laswell as the boss lady, which Laswell hated. "Whilst, she is busy, you and I can do something~" she tries again. "Oh, well, maybe you can call the waiter? I'm sure my lady would like a drink. He isn't paying attention to me but I'm sure if he sees us both call then he'll come over." The woman rolls her eyes and walks away.
You watch the woman leave him and walk up to her. "Hi, is that guy your boyfriend?" you dumbly ask. She sounded annoyed, "No, he is stuck on his bitch girlfriend." You smile, content and once more you are his one. "That's what I thought, well maybe next time you shouldn't fucking talk to my man when he is clearly stuck up on me, you bitch." He grabs you by the waist and carries you out of the establishment. "My love, do you really want to fight that girl?" You sigh and shake your head, "No but I mean, I just think it's stupid. You clearly told her you are taken, why can't she just move on?" He chuckles and cups your face once he puts you down, "It's clear she wants what only my love has, and you my dear have my devotion, now let's go eat elsewhere, yeah?"
----
Gaz:
When you two are in the field and the enemy either hits him or shoots in his direction, you are someone else. R/N is his sweet kind and caring girlfriend. Grim is the soldier who hits back, protects her boyfriend against everyone in that room and is a mean killer. "Don't you fucking dare!" she punches the enemy soldier and then after the poor man is on the floor with a bruised face, he makes him apologise. "You say, 'I'm so sorry, Gaz.' y'hear me?!"
There have been times when he has had to physically stop you from hurting Soap after sparring. Now, you know he can fight, he is after all good at what he does but there are days when you feel extra protective. One scratch and it takes Ghost, Price, some rookie and Gaz to stop you from knocking Soap out. "Fucking let me go! I just wanna talk!" All men hold you down. "Nope, we know what you'll really do"
Soap:
He is a natural flirt, no lie there but all that flirting is to you. So when a recruit is trying to flirt with him, and he seems very uncomfortable, you walk to him, assert that he is taken and then he has to grab you by the hips. "Not, 'ere my lass." He kisses your cheek and you give the girl a clear fake smile. When she walks away, you sit on his lap and caress his face. You aren't the overly jealous type but unfortunately, because he does feel uncomfortable and these girls are desperate to become the barracks bunny, you have to take all these extra measures. He loves that about you, that you make yourself seem like the jealous, obsessive type, even though you aren't just so he can walk comfortably around the base without the women wanting to get touchy with him. "I love you, my R/N, you know that?" He whispers and kisses your neck, and you nod and smile. "I love you too, Johnny."
Price:
The first time he had to physically make it clear to the much younger and desperate women on the base that he is in fact in a happy relationship, he had to kiss you in front of the others. Made it weird for the next meeting but it worked. A time where you were the one protecting him, was during a raid in Latin America. He was bait, he was tied to a tree, and beaten multiple times and unconscious. 30 minutes is the time you all had to take down the enemy base. 5 minutes in you all infiltrated it, Ghost, being your best friend tied all the men up. For 25 minutes, you personally beat and possibly killed the men who hurt your boyfriend. Ghost alone could've found the men who hurt Price but you needed revenge.
Ghost:
It's more than clear that people fear and respect him. However, he in your eyes is the one who at all times must be protected. You would go to hell and back for him and him only. So, when he arrived at the infirmary, all bandaged up, moaning from pain and being treated by the medical staff, you gave them all a speech after he was sleeping. "You all better hear me, this man here will be treated like damn royalty, if he says it still hurts, then you better fucking check the area he is indicating, and no, I will not leave the room. He feels safe with me there and I will stay in that room. And if I find out, one of you bitches is hurting my beloved I will make sure you understand why they call me Grim, got that?" The nurses and two doctors nod in fear.
"Good, now you are excused." You walk back into the room and turn back into his sweet girlfriend. "Hey, love, where were you?" his voice hoarse. "I had to take a wee." you lie and he gives you his usual questioning look. "The loo is over there, my love" he points at the door in the corner. "I just didn't want to wake you up if I flushed it." He nods, "Mmm, yeah, makes sense."
König:
As the tall, feared and at times awkward man König is, you only worried about one thing. That being, you are around him when out with friends in huge social gatherings. Because of the military, he was always looking behind him, checking the room for suspicious people. You always held his hand, massaged it or just had to be next to him. Giving him constant physical touch to remind him you were there. If he was bouncing his leg, you'd place your hand on it, if he became fidgety while out in the pub, you'd hold it and/or kiss it. When he has his mask on, he feels way better, he is less anxious but when without it, he has no other protection from his anxious mind but you. So, instead of verbally threatening people, you stare them down for minutes if needed. This all started when you went out with him to a pub and people kept staring at him, his accent, reddened face and the fact he was maskless all made him more awkward. For his sake, you never picked up fights but you would make a mental note to punch the person if seen again and if they kept doing the same thing. "You know, we can go back home, recharge that social battery of yours and use it next year." You rub his back and look up at him with soft eyes.
"Would that interfere with your plans tonight, Liebling?" He, again, shows respect for your time and plans. "No, not at all, in fact, I kinda need it too, so miene bär, let's go home, yes?" He gives you a small and sincere smile, "Ja, let's go home, Liebe."
Tags: @anonymuslydumb
A/N: No idea what the hell I just wrote, but hope you liked it?
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Auditor, Phobos, 2BDamned and Sanford with a reader that overworks themselves. Prioritizing work over mental and physical health, pushing themselves to their breaking point, skipping meals and only getting a few hours of sleep. I just need these four in particular to tell me to take care of myself and care about me argggh
Overworked reader
Audi, Phobos, Doc, Sanford
CW: bit of a mental spiral on San's end, ends well tho.
Burnouts a bitch man, don't wear yourself thin over shit, y'hear?
Auditor
"Are the chef's meals not to your liking?" You nearly jumped out of your seat when Auditor's ghostly whisper filled your ear. Casting your aching, tired eyes from your paperwork at the once hot meal, still arranged with care on the plate, completely untouched from the moment it left the kitchen.
"Oh, no. Of course not. They're good, don't worry." You offered him a weak smile. "I'll have it later, I just need to finish this up." Audi's eyes narrowed as you gestured meekly to your desk, piled high with reports, cloning records, casualty tallies, and other such boring admin work.
"It's cold." He grumbled, spinning your chair to face him, hands on his hips. "You're going to really hurt yourself and burn out if you keep pulling these awkward hours. Don't think I haven't noticed you slipping from our bed to come back to this. Did you forget how light a sleeper I am?"
Audi's stern demeanour dropped as your features fell, already feeling low because of how your body was struggling, now having your boss/lover add to that. "I just need to be able to keep up with you. What use am I really if I can't handle a fraction of the work you do?"
His hand rested under your chin, thumb delicately stroking your cheek. "You could never keep up with me, my flame, I was made to handle this. You're just a delicate mortal, you do more than enough without stressing yourself trying to level with me. Allow me to finish this later, mea vita, you are going to get a hot, fresh meal while I draw a bath for us, and after you will get the rest your body needs. That's an order, from your employer, understood?"
"Yes, but-"
He cut you off. "No 'ifs, ands, or buts,' You are going to hurt yourself, and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt you, even self inflicted pain. I, as your partner and boss, will clear this burden for you. When I asked for your best, I meant the best you can consistently handle, not this. You're not yourself, and I command you seek out that old self that I fell for and bring them back to me instantly."
Phobos
Being the director's lover had essentially no downsides, nobody spoke a bad word around you, people helped you far more than before, not to mention the adoration of the most powerful figure in the physical realm. However, that same man would often breathe down your neck, commanding you to stay by his side constantly.
Phobos relished in you, watching you, listening to you, being around you. He wished to be adored equally in return, however your work proved to be a distraction from him. He was... a tad obsessive, but how could he not be? He's a god, it was only right you'd devote yourself to him and him alone.
"Leave that alone will you? Your god requires your attention." A large clawed hand rested on your shoulder, the other pulling down his bandages from his mouth. "Your recent neglect of me is not going unnoticed, dear."
You rubbed your aching eyes, staring at a computer screen all day and most of the night irritated them. "I'm sorry Bo, but there's a lot of work that needs reviewing, I've got weeks of backlog to go through, and Christoff, Crackpot and Gonne have all submitted new reports today with pages and pages of intel to go through."
His hands wrapped around your middle, he lifted you up and took your place on the chair, resting you in his far more comfortable lap. "Bah, they're not worthy of your time. I'll command someone else to do it, the short fat one, whatever his name is. He enjoys paperwork and the like."
"Hofnarr is no doubt as swamped as I am." He took your face in one of his hands, his cracked and damaged lips pressing against your cheek.
"Someone else then, if it pleases you. Whatever it takes for you to spend time with me." You leaned into him, your back pressing against his chest, and he emitted a deep purr. "I am a god amongst men, dear, I don't beg for what I desire. I take it. And yet I allow you this honour. So please..."
Your stomach rumbled against his hand. "Harumph! Neglecting yourself as much as you've neglected me?! How dare you, enough is enough. I command you take care of yourself!" Phobos picked you up with ease, holding you level to his eye. To anyone else, he'd be holding them by their collar, or neck to meet his gaze, but with you, he was softer. A hand under your rump and the other on your back, supporting your weight comfortably.
"You are the lover of a god, think how pitiful it would look if I can't even take care of my equal? You stand above others, the right hand of my throne. Your duties have changed, lesser beings will take charge of them. Your only priorities are yourself and me, and the family we will create." Phobos snapped his fingers, and one of the guards at the door came forward.
"See to it that the chefs prepare your God's favourites, find someone to take their duties on and allow them to be truly indulged as they should be." Phobos looked back to you, his eye narrowing. "I will tear this world asunder for you, and build it up as you desire. I will give you anything your heart pines for, never again shall you be run ragged like this."
Phobos was self assured, a god of the highest order, surrounded by weaker, lesser beings. And yet here he was, begging at your altar. He wished you'd devote yourself equally to worshipping you as he did, and he would make damn sure that happened.
2BDamned
3 AM. Doc was in the kitchen, boiling some water over the stove. Hank has smashed the coffee maker earlier in the day, said he'd accidentally dropped the thing, yet couldn't explain the crowbar in his hands. Doc gritted his teeth, damn Wimbleton, making his hard job harder with their stupid thoughtless actions.
He had no doubt the fool had burned themselves on the machine and gone overboard against the poor helpless thing in revenge. Now here he stood, using the stove to make both his coffee and his snack. Instant noodles, his saving grace in the world. Easy to prepare, quick to eat, and filling.
With bleary, tired eyes, you wandered into the dim kitchen, hearing Doc grumbling to himself about 'Getting that moron to find another working machine or he'll have his spine inserted upside down next time.'
"Hey sweetheart." Yawning and setting your tablet down, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and leaned your face into his back. One hand pulled way from the stove, running down your arm before resting atop your hand, feeling the ring around your finger.
"You should be asleep, love." Doc murmured, his animosity towards Hank gone in the wind. You inhaled deeply, basking in his familiar scent.
"I could say the same to you, Kyle." He let out a soft 'Hm.', agreeing without agreeing. You were right, of course. "Debugging with Dei was going well, till he nodded off. San came by on one of his usual bathroom breaks and picked him up."
Doc poured the water into his noodle cup. "You want some coffee?" He took your favourite mug out of the cupboard.
"I thought you wanted me to sleep." You teased tiredly.
"You're my spouse. I know you well enough to know that's not gonna happen anytime soon, even if I would like it if you did." He tossed some powdered milk into the cups along with the beans. "We don't have any sugar left I'm afraid, or sweetener. It's become so scarce these days. Ration packages can't even supply a tiny packet anymore."
"I can get sugar anytime I've got you around." Doc smiled and turned off the hob, turning around to pull you into his arms. "Can I get some now?"
As far as you two were concerned, nothing else existed, everything except what was in both your arms was null and void. He tilted his head down slightly, lips catching yours softly. Butterflies fluttered in your tummy, they flared up every time your husband kissed you.
You rested your head on his chest, it was rare you two had a truly private moment together, as much as you both tried. Being enemies of the state was hard work, who'd have thought?
"You should really lay down dear." Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up to him. You hadn't even realised you'd started dozing off in his arms.
"No, I've got work to do." You yawned, and Doc chuckled softly.
"You're really stubborn sometimes, you know that?" He picked up both coffees and his noodles. "Tell you what, grab your tablet and we can get cosy in bed together. Work can wait until later, I think we've overdue some private couple time."
Nestled in the crook of Doc's arm felt like the safest place in the world, even with coffee in your system, you couldn't help but fall asleep with him. Trust and love deep rooted, he was your sanctuary.
And damn it, he was going to get you into a healthier sleep routine.
Sanford
It'd been a couple weeks since you'd seen Ford, Doc had sent him off on recon work with Deimos and a splinter group from a faction allied with the SQ, they'd been on the other side of Nevada having heard whispering of something dangerous settling out there.
Two weeks of silence left you anxious, pacing around often, skipping meals and staying up into the early hours of the morning. Longing makes the heart sick, and a sick heart makes the body weak.
The only think you could do to keep your mind occupied was cleaning out the gun stash, checking over the stocked rounds repeatedly, despite the numbers never changing, cleaning already dirt and grime free steel.
A scrubbing brush in hand, you scraped at one of the many swords Hank had salvaged, violently jolting the bristles back and forth over either rust, or really crusted on blood just above the hilt.
Doc usually kept you in the loop of long jobs, sometimes you'd even be in walkie talkie range of your partner and could hear his voice. He could be hurt, he could be dead, you'd be none the wiser, and that was maddening.
Of course you weren't needy and dependant on him, that'd be too much, but just a sign he was okay would've been enough to give you peace of mind. It's the not knowing that drove you to dark places.
Bang!
You jumped in your seat as the front door slammed. "Baby, you here? I'm back." Dropping the blade, you got to you feet and rushed to the door.
"Sanford, you're okay?!" You leaped into his arms, and he caught you easily. Oh sweet security, your world had come home to you safely.
"Yeah babe," San leaned back slightly to get a good look at you, his loving gaze turning to concern. "uh, hope you don't mind me sayin' doll/stud, but you look like hell." His hands brushed over your hair. "...When did you last shower?"
Suddenly you felt rather embarrassed, it'd been a.... couple days at least. Probably about a week since you'd stopped properly taking care of yourself. Swapping meals out for multiple junk snacks, a fucked up sleeping schedule consisting of occasional naps but mostly anxious pacing and activity.
"Uhm..." That was an answer enough for him.
"Baby," Sanford rubbed his cheek, clearing off some dust from his face. "you need to take care of yourself." He sighed and took off his sunglasses. "Have you even been eating properly?"
You didn't meet his gaze. "Okay. Tell you what," He took off his dirty tank top and tossed it aside. "I'll pull out something from the freezer, shove it in the oven while we get a nice shower, and then we can eat and get some rest." Just being near him, hearing his melodic voice again was enough to bring you to a sense of normalcy.
Sanford was fine, he was alive, he was here.
"Things have just been a bit... off without you." You sighed, clinging to his frame, almost afraid if you let him go, he'd run off for another two weeks, or longer. "Sorry, it's just been a lot to deal with, not knowing where you were, if you were safe... It's been hard."
"I get it. I do, I really do," Sanford had his own experiences with deep depression, despite being the large stoic type, the horrors of war, what he and his friends had to do to get an advantage against everything haunted him. "fight, flight, freeze is a real thing, but you can't just shut down baby. You gotta keep fightin, keep yourself in good shape 'cause it's a scary world out there."
"I know. It's easier said than done though." Sanford pulled out a tray of his legendary frozen mac n cheese, you hadn't checked the freezer since he'd left, otherwise that would've been long gone. You didn't know how he did it, but it was godly each time he made it.
"I get that." He shoved the tray into the oven, flicking switches to heat up the frozen dish. "You gotta change how you think, baby." You watched him take off his bandanna, revealing his hair. Or lack thereof.
"You shaved your head?" Usually he'd grow out his hair, style it into long locs and keep them tied back and under his bandanna, but once in a blue moon he'd get bored of maintaining them, and shave it off to start again.
Sanford ran a hand over his scalp, feeling the small curls starting to reappear. "Yeah, easier than trying to keep it clean out there. Dusty as hell." His hands came to rest on your shoulders, turning you to the bathroom. "No bother, I've got your hair to care for now. I'mma spoil you rotten."
Years of caring for his baby siblings had taught the beefcake that just telling someone what to do usually didn't help, but doing it along side them helped solidify the action. He'd help you get cleaned up, get back to eating proper food and getting proper sleep.
He needed to fall into the routine too, sleeping rough in trucks was a pain in his back, and access to his comfy old bed would do him wonders to getting decent sleep again. A full belly and his favourite person in the entire world cuddling into his pecs definitely helped too.
Yes, he needed this just as much as you did.
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imagine-lcorp · 5 months
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Hello! I'm the one who sent in the ask for Perfect Sense. I'm not as active on tumblr as I used to be, but trust me I'm usually still lurkin'! xD
Don't worry about how long it takes, so long as you still enjoy writing and what you're writing. I'm glad to see my request, but not if you forced yourself to get it out. Take care of yourself, y'hear? :)
My darling, haha no worries it's just me being a slow writer, having to face the life outside the internet, its totally a mess but we are managing. Thank you for not abandon ship <3
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Hey, sweet pea, Eddie wanted me to talk to you. Now, I seen you working real hard for months, an' you never seem to give yourself a break. I know there's work to be done, and I know it gets hard when it piles up, but you're handling it well, better than you have before. I seen you makin' yourself real meals and drinkin' water with your coffee, and I have to say it because I don't tell you often enough that, well... I'm proud of you, darlin'. I know you're used to being scolded, and you will be, but first I had t'tell you that you're doin' amazing kiddo.
Now, I heard that you keep pullin' away from Eddie, an' you're pullin' away from me too, whether you're wearin' our clothes or not. Ain't seen you around the trailer in a couple days, and I been missin' you, girl, you gotta come 'round next time you're free, have dinner with us. But 'side from that, you need to let yourself enjoy things. Need t'let yourself release all that tension I seen you carry on them shoulders. I seen the way your jaw clenches when you're stressed or tired, and I understand, but the only way to let go is for you to let yourself let go.
Don't keep things that give you pleasure at arm's length, that only ends in disaster. I love you, darlin', keep takin' good care of yourself. And, Taylor, I know you'll see this too, you watch over her for me, y'hear?
--Wayne M
UNCLE WAYNEEEEE ~ 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
THE WAY I MADE THE SOFTEST NOISE AND IMMEDIATELY SAT UP TO GIVE YOU ALL MY ATTENTION, OH MY GOODNESS HELLO!!! HEY HI!🥺 I didn’t expect you to come and talk to me!!! I figured you were on another night shift.
There IS always work to be done. Always. You know as well as I do that for every item crossed off, another two will soon take its place. It feels like running on the spot or maybe treading water… either way, going nowhere. Makes me wonder what the point of it all is, a lot of the time. But I do it anyway because the only way out is through. Well… I COULD drop out, but no matter what I say, I know I wouldn’t really do it. Entertaining the thought is cathartic sometimes. I’m trying to eat proper meals instead of snacking all the time and drinking water with my coffee, and it is a daily struggle but I am trying. Thoughts of a disapproving head shake from you always sorts me out! UNCLE WAYNE PLEASEEEE I’LL CRYYYY😭YOU’RE PROUD?!!😭😭😭
Let me just -
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Thank you for the warning about being scolded before the fact. I know I messed up real bad if you scold me, same as with Eddie. We gotta TRY to get scolding from you, which is why we listen when it happens. Thank you, thank you!!!🫂🙏💖
Pulling away from Eddie and from you is, unfortunately, one of my warning signs which Taylor helped me to puzzle out. It seems I pull away when I need you the very most. Wearing your clothes is a very special comfort and one I can have for days on end, and thank you for not calling me out on how many times a week I steal your flannel!🥺I COULD get one like yours but then it wouldn’t be yours, would it?🥺I promised Eddie I’ll swing by before midnight tonight; I got some evening plans with a friend but once that’s done, I’ll be coming to see you and Eddie before I have work in the morning. Having dinner with you both sounds SO good! No one makes spaghetti like you do.
It’s funny what you say about the tension in my jaw and shoulders because I just realised my shoulders are almost up to my neck and my neck hurts and my jaw is sore from clenching so I’m trying to let all that go right now while I message you. Think the horror film I’m watching is scaring me. Took a study break so I could talk to you for a few minutes. I hate that you know what it’s like to be so stressed and tired too, you deserve proper and full rest and time with your boy.🥺
“Let yourself let go” - I’ll try, Uncle Wayne, for you.
You’re right, as always. Just feel like I gotta always earn the things I love and if I haven’t done my work then I haven’t earned those things, and that’s where the trouble comes from because the work is never done so therefore I can never earn the things I want and you’re right, that DOES only end in disaster. How many 3 AMs have you seen me through? More than I wanna admit to.💔I love you too Uncle Wayne, so much. For lots and lots of reasons I’ll tell you about one night; you remind of someone whom I loved dearly and lost too young. I’ll try to keep taking care of me, with you and Eddie and Taylor in mind. Taylor’s the bestest, she’s always looks out for me and I hope she knows that I and others are looking out for her as well!😭
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lemari-be · 1 year
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So, I've read the latest chapter. Stayed up 'til 4am, but it was worth it. Gotta say, the whole endgame vibe with so many art pieces you' ve made really spells closure, and I'm sad. Happy to see the fic soon in full, but sad that I won't see updates again.
Problems are a part of life, and frankly, if we didn't have any problems and had nothing to complain about, life would be pretty damn boring. I kinda see that applied in your fic. Some things will get resolved, some new crap will appear, some wounds may reopen ocasionally, but hey, that's okay. It's...realistic. Not morbid or depressing, but a well established fact, and seeing it actually applied and shown here is... cathartic. It actually shows that these characters have a life. And that had drawn me to keep reading. It's just... life. Maybe it doesn't make sense, but sometimes real things make no sense at all. So yeah, I've enjoyed it.
Also, this is a wild guess, but I have this little feeling that you're projecting a bit on Hero. Dunno why, just a hunch. Some of his thoughts...really hit home. Maybe just all students feel that way or something.
Good night, you have some rest after writing this chapter, y'hear?
You know, writing this fic has kept me company for so long that it feels kind of bittersweet for me to know the next one I'll be working on is the final one. I'll let you in on a little secret. I may or may have not hinted two oneshots (or two-three chapter length stories) that I will be writing after I finish Bask, in the latest chapter :) It won't be a sequel of course, but one will definitely be taking place after the events of Bask, and the other is a story that I couldn't really fit in the actual fic because it's mostly fun times with the boys.
As long as the fic allowed me to do so, I tried to be realistic with things, but I never really tried to force it to be that way. Some things remaining unresolved etc happened naturally in writing, but I think it's better than everything to be... perfectly okay? I feel like it'd feel a bit cheap, or maybe the actual things our characters have achieved wouldn't have as much of an impact despite being so important. So yes, what you're saying is definitely applied in my fic :) I'm really glad you've enjoyed that part in the story. While I do try not to make everything overly depressing and add lots of fluff, we have to remember that even the smallest things to someone might be a huge success for someone else.
About Hero. I wasn't expecting reading this and oh boy did what you pointed out had me a bit stunned heh. I'll say it now, it's not just a hunch, what you said. Hero is honestly the character I relate to the most for so many reasons and ironically, maybe it's the reason I had the hardest time writing his parts in the story. Of course we gotta keep in mind, that is to how I've translated him as a character in general. The way I've written him in this fic is exactly how I felt like he is as a person, I don't like to self-insert in my stories, it wasn't the reason this is why I wrote him this way. So with that out of the way, yup. What you said here is true in any case, and especially in the latest chapter (the flashback segment) got quite personal. I like to think it's not every student that feels this way though... While I do believe Hero is trying his best anyway, going to med school was more to appease his parents expectations, same with why he mostly went along with whatever they ask him to do. He's a good guy by nature, but you gotta say 'no' too, because regret is a hell of its own.
Thank you again :) And I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! I'll definitely be getting some rest – well, with exams coming up, as much as I can anyway lmao You take care of yourself too, and I'll see you on the next and final one!
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My revenge on @hersweetrevenge mwahh <3333
GN!reader, no coded language, "you" & Y/N used.
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A distant wailing catches Bo's attention and his head snaps up towards the noise so fast that he feels something click in his neck. It's coming from the bathroom and the only person in the house other than him is -
Y/N.
Bo is across the room before his mind even registers that his body has moved and it makes him dizzy but, oh, he pushes past that as he races up the stairs. Your sorrow becomes a symphony, Bo's heart the instrument as you tug fiercely on his strings and makes him feel heavier, somehow. A sick part of him, sadistic and callous is he, enjoys your torment but a larger part only loves you more for your vulnerability. Your name in his mind was like a litany as his pace slows at the top of the stairs.
Bo takes careful and measured steps up to the bathroom, avoiding all the creaky floorboard spots which he had had to learn to navigate over at a very young age just to avoid his parents' wrath; he had never asked to exist or been asked permission for such, and yet they had always held it against him.
He had had the last laugh, holding the barrel of a rifle against his father's head.
Pulling the trigger had come with no hesitation.
As your sobs heighten in pitch, Bo's face melts into sympathy and he rubs at his chest. A hand raises to knock on the door but he shakes his head just once at himself, instead pushing the door open.
He knows what he's going to find but it breaks his heart all the same.
You're on your knees, arms wrapped around yourself like you're desperately trying to hold yourself together despite the trashed and scattered parts of your heart which crash around you like your tears. Your sobs are full volume now as you cry without thought for keeping quiet; you're too far gone to be, in what you would think of it, considerate of the other occupants of the Sinclair household.
This is you in your rawest state and for the second time in almost as many minutes, it only makes Bo love you more.
"Oh, darlin'," Bo sighs and steps within, closing the door behind him. He shuts it none too quietly but the noise is drowned out by the ghost of you, and his heart is once more tugged upon. "That bad, huh?"
He reaches you easily and you cry out in relief at the sight of the one you love the very most, arms outstretched to welcome Bo home. With any luck, he can bring you there too.
"Sh-sh-sh," A low and soothing rumble as Bo presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head, "S'all righ', y're all righ'," He rocks you slowly from where you're both kneeling on the floor. It hurts his bad knee but Bo barely registers his physical discomfort in the face of your greater - to his thinking - emotional one. "Why di'n't y'come get me, Y/N? I could'a helped you sooner."
You shook your head, "Di - didn't wanna bother you," Your words are barely separated and there's a distinctly whiny edge to your voice.
Bo sighs. "Don't y'ever hide from me, darlin', y'hear?" His voice is firm and there's a metallic hint in his tone, irritated is he as his mind races. Did he cause you to remain alone in your bitterness? Did he say or do something to make you feel like you couldn't go to him? He probably did, and his love for you increases as does his self-hatred.
Bo pulls back far enough to cup your damp cheeks in his hands, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing away your tears. "There's only one'a you, Y/N," His blue eyes are so intense that it steals the breath from your lungs, "An' I don't wanna hear again of you cryin' alone; s'not right. Y'come get me next time. Don't you ever hide from me."
It was both a plea and a command, but you respond to both as you nod, almost throwing yourself into Bo's chest. He grunts at the impact and shifts so that he's got his legs out in front of him and you're plopped unceremoniously in his lap, his arms tight around you and his lips at your temple.
Sinclairs take care of their own and you had long since been included in that.
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Text
; good enough
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© @pedropcl
lee bodecker x fem!reader.
summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.
words. about 2.3k.
warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.
a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.
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You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.
Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.
You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.
“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.
Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.
Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.
“I do. I do care”.
“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.
“You're here tho”.
“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.
Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.
“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.
“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.
You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.
“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.
Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.
And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”
You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.
Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.
Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.
“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.
“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.
At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.
“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”
“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.
His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.
Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.
“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”
“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.
Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.
At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.
“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”
His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.
“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.
You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.
Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.
Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.
Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.
“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. “Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”
“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”
Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.
“Can we go home now…?”
“'S that what you want?”
You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.
Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.
“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.
“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.
You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.
Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.
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starfleetbotanist · 3 years
Text
Physician, Heal Thyself (But Not Always)
🌹
It had been stupid, even he would admit that. Academy students were typically supposed to avoid bar fights. But Cupcake had been talking smack, and he'd had a few too many, so he had allowed the inevitable to happen. What he hadn't expected was for six other cadets to decide to use him as a punching bag. More surprising, though, was Bones.
He'd vaguely heard Bones trying to reason with his assailants before the roar in his ears drowned him out, but a fist to the stomach is a much more pressing matter than a pacifist doctor trying to tell you logic you don't want to hear, so he'd more or less written him off. That is, until he saw a cadet fall at his feet and turned to see his friend wading- and punching- through the crowd towards him.
He leapt at one of Cupcakes cronies as he landed a solid punch to Bones' face, causing the man to stumble back, a protectiveness he hadn't felt since Tarsus rising in him. But Bones regained his footing and gave as good as he'd gotten, before finally reaching Jim. Then he grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and dragged him from the bar, much like a mama cat with her errant kitten.
He stared at him, stunned, the entire way back to their room, Bones loudly scolding him about safety and rules the whole way, wiping blood from his now evidently broken nose. A sick feeling overcame him. What happened now? Was Bones going to leave, like Sam had?
He found himself dumped on the couch in an ungraceful heap as Bones' angry footsteps carried him to the bathroom and back. He sat on the coffee table, and Jim was relieved to see his medkit resting on his knee. He was (mostly) a model patient as Bones scrubbed at his cuts with antiseptic before using the portable dermal regen.
"You've got too damn good a brain, Jim, to go and get it knocked around by fools like that, y'hear me?"
He blinked. No, he hadn't heard him. Upon realizing that, Bones rolled his eyes before reaching over and lightly slapping his head- a move too gentle to actually hurt, and which he immediately followed with an affectionate ruffle of Jim's hair.
"This, your brain. Use it."
With that, he got up and headed back to the bathroom. Jim followed on his heels.
"That's it? You're not... More angry?"
"Jim, I knew when I signed up to be your friend there'd be risks. If a bar fight's the most danger we get in together I'd be surprised."
"But you got hurt!"
"Yeah, and you owe me for that."
He stopped in front of the mirror, opening his case again and finding the regen and a hypo. He reached up and, with a grunt, popped his nose back into place. He swore as he turned the hypo on himself, eyes watering.
"Scratch that, you really owe me," he said through gritted teeth.
"Sorry," Jim replied. He meant it. He hated seeing Bones hurt.
"Just-- use your head next time. Okay?"
"Yeah-- yeah, okay, Bones. I promise."
"Good." He washed the blood on his face and hands before turning back to face him. "Then we can forget about it."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"Okay. Thanks, Bones."
"Anytime, kid."
🌹
Nyota held her wrist to her chest, waiting in the academy clinic. She had hurt it in combat class that day, but thankfully not too badly. The clinic was understaffed that day, and she had told Christine she was fine waiting. It was just her and two other cadets in the waiting room, after all. Not everyone was quite so patient, though.
One of the others, a command cadet, was complaining loudly, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, and bouncing his leg in agitation.
"How much longer is this gonna take?" He asked when Christine opened the door to call another patient back.
"Doctor McCoy or Doctor M'Benga will be able to see you soon, sir," she answered. "We will get to you as soon as we can."
Nyota prided herself on her ability to read people, and what she saw from the other cadet was not encouraging. He jumped up to his feet, crossing over to Christine with surprising speed.
"You can't just come back here!" She said, positioning herself between the cadet and the door.
"Watch me!" He snapped, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her out of the way.
Nyota rose, but she didn't need to interfere. Just as he was stepping into the hallway, he ran face first into Doctor McCoy, summoned by Christine's shout.
"Didn't you hear the lady? She said you ain't gettin' in here!" He snapped, though Nyota could see him running a clinical eye over the cadet. "Easy now. Looks like you're in withdrawal. How many stims have you taken?"
"None of your business!" The man snapped, and before anyone could stop him, caught McCoy on the side of the head with a right cross.
Christine leapt in, then, getting him into a safe hold and grabbing his arm to pin behind him as McCoy called for M'Benga to bring a sedative.
"Dammit," he swore as the other doctor handed him the hypo. "Sucker punches harder than he looks."
Once he was sedated, security called, and a treatment plan discussed for the over-use of stims to get him through the command courses, the cadet was taken to Starfleet Medical for a proper detox.
"You okay, Chris?" McCoy asked. Nyota had come to Christine's side as the cadet was taken away. The two had been friends since their first year.
"Just fine," she promised. "Didn't even fall. What about you?"
"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "Happens sometimes. Nothin' the regen can't fix."
"You might want to get on that before it swells too much, Len" M'Benga said. "I can finish up here."
"It'll hold," McCoy insisted. "But you can take that patient we just called back. C'mon, Ny, I only need one eye to see the swelling in that wrist."
"Only if you fix your eye, too," she threatened, following him back to one of the rooms.
"Wrist first," he said, taking out his tricorder. She answered his questions, let him strap the regen unit to her, and stared him into submission until he began treating himself while they waited.
"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked once they had both finished.
"Ain't that my line? Any residual pain?"
"None, thank you. Now answer me."
"I'm okay," he promised. "Not my first rodeo with someone hyped up on stims, and it won't be my last."
"Can't say I envy you."
"Yeah, well, it happens. Now, you be careful in that combat class, okay? Stretch right, and be careful which moves you use on which partners."
"I will. Thanks, Len."
"Sure, Ny."
🌹
"Scotty."
He looked up from the manual he was reading at the sound from the bathroom door.
"Ah, Doc! What can I do for you?"
"You can take a break from straining your eyes and come have some coffee."
He laughed, lowering the PADD he was reading from.
"Aye, that sounds good. What're you doin' up so early?"
He followed him into his room, where he could smell fresh coffee brewing. Like many things, McCoy seemed to prefer real coffee, and while Scotty tended to be more of a tea man, he never turned down real foods or drinks.
"Haven't been to bed yet- don't tell Jim or Spock."
He poured them both a cup, handing Scotty one of them and motioning to the sugar and creamer he'd set out.
"Aren't you the one always telling the crew the importance of a good sleep schedule?"
"Yeah, and that's why I'm askin' you not to tell on me," he grinned.
"Can you not sleep?"
"No, not really. I've been goin' over that last accident in Engineering. I've written up a few training proposals, and wanted you to read through them and tell me which you think'll work best before I submit them."
"Have you been working on this all day?"
"Since my shift ended, yeah."
Scotty saw him take two tiny pills from a bottle on his desk and take them before rubbing his eyes.
"Sorry, headache. Ibuprofen. Been at this a little too long, I think."
"Why push yourself like this, then?"
He scanned the proposals, an interdisciplinary first aid course specific to Engineering and the various injuries and accidents that could happen, a triage proposal to better prepare medical staff for what to expect when an accident is called in, and new safety guidelines and equipment inspection schedules.
"Well, every second counts, you know that. The sooner we get this smoothed out, the better. It could be life or death, and I'm not about to play games there."
"You never do," Scotty grinned, picking up a stylus and making a few notes. "I like this so far. I hope you made a lot of coffee, because I have a few ideas, too."
"I hoped you would," McCoy grinned, and the two sat down to begin work.
🌹
"You called me, Doc?"
"Mr Sulu, perfect timing!"
Doctor McCoy was standing by a selection of plants, studying them intensely.
"The botany department sent these up. They're medicinal. But the labels got mixed up, and we don't really know what's what."
"That's unusual," Sulu grinned, looking down at the selection. "She's usually more organized when making deliveries."
He began to catalogue the plants, calling to mind their uses.
"Fever few, plantain... Several of these are for stopping bleeding."
"Yeah, that's what we're hoping for. We're training our medics to learn other ways to heal in the field."
"Good idea," Sulu nodded, fixing the lables.
"Thank you for the help," McCoy grinned. "Oh, Lieutenant Lyle brought another plant, but I'm not sure what it does. It was bigger than the others, so I set it in the office. Little bastard scratched me, too."
Sulu laughed, plucking a plantain leaf and handing it to him.
"Chew on that for a minute and put it on the cut, that will help."
He heard McCoy's thanks as he went into the office. He gasped. On the desk was a rare Andorian Passionflower- spiked where its Earth counterpart was not, and blue instead of purple. In place of a label there was a note, and he recognized the handwriting.
"Ben?"
"Surprise," McCoy said, stepping in. He had the chewed leaf against his finger. "We were asked not to tell you anything."
He opened the envelope. It was handwritten anniversary card. He smiled, warmth filling him.
"Happy anniversary, you two," McCoy said, patting him on the shoulder. "There's minutes on my computer for subspace communication. He's waiting for you to call."
"Thanks, Doc," he answered, wiping sudden tears from his eyes.
McCoy patted his back again before leaving him to his call.
🌹
"Doctor?"
"Mhm?"
"Why did you do it?"
McCoy looked at Chekov, who was eyeing wound on his arm with deep concern.
"Reflex," he lied, finishing ripping his uniform shirt into bandages. He turned his eyes away, focusing on tying off and tending the wound until the ion storm ended and they could contact the Enterprise.
"Captain Kirk is right. You are a terrible liar, sir."
He snorted, tying off his makeshift sling. He'd taken a rather severe cut from a spear from one of the inhabitants of this supposedly uninhabited planet. The spear had been aimed at Chekov, but he had managed to push the kid out of the way just in time.
"Captain Kirk can mind his own business."
"Doctor..."
McCoy sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. Chekov joined him, still looking at him with wide-eyed worry.
"You remind me of Joanna."
"Huh?"
"I did it because you remind me of Joanna."
"Who is Joanna?"
"My daughter. My whole world. I don't get to see her often, but she's my pride and joy."
"And I remind you of her?"
"Yeah. Can't explain it. It's probably because you're so young, or some misplaced guilt about not being there to protect JoJo that makes me want to look out for you instead that the psychologist really doesn't wanna think too much about."
He shrugged, closing his eyes.
"That, and I'm a doctor, and your senior officer. Not gonna let you get hurt if I can help it."
Running for their lives had worn him out, it seems. Chekov studied him for a moment before placing his head on his shoulder.
"You are very much the papa I always wanted. My grandmother, she told me stories about him. He was a good man. If he was... If I had known him longer, I would have liked for him to be like you, Doctor."
He felt a strong hand ruffle his hair.
"Get some rest, kid. I'll keep watch."
Chekov smiled, allowing his own eyes to close. He fell asleep wondering if McCoy would laugh or be angry that he had become, as the captain said, a "mama bear."
🌹
Spock stood beside Captain Kirk's hospital bed, arms folded behind his back. He had come to check on the progress of McCoy's serum on their friend. But, also, he was here to check on McCoy. Nyota had expressed worry over him that morning after visiting.
"You want a seat, Spock?"
He turned as the doctor entered the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a PADD in the other.
"No, thank you, Doctor."
McCoy set the coffee aside, moving to the bed to compare the data on the PADD to the biobed readings. As Spock watched him, he began to really notice the state the doctor was in. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed in dark circles, his hair sticking at odd angles, as though he had run his fingers through it many times. He hadn't shaved, and was looking rather gaunt.
"When did you last sleep, Leonard?"
"Does it matter, Spock?"
"I think it would matter to the captain. And... I admit to a concern, as well."
"May miracles never cease," McCoy muttered, and they both knew what miracle he was praying for.
"Doctor, you must rest. The captain's status is unlikely to change in the time it would take for you to eat and sleep."
"I can't, Spock. Not right now."
"Why?"
"Because he needs me."
"He needs all of you, Leonard. Not a shell of yourself."
McCoy's shoulders sagged at that.
"I don't want to leave him," he admitted. "I promised I wouldn't leave him."
"You do not have to leave him. You could bring a cot into this room, perhaps. Shower in the en suite, and eat the meals Nyota has been bringing you."
"When I try to sleep, Spock, all I can see is him in that chamber. In that damn body bag in my medbay. It... It hurts, Spock. In a very human way, it hurts. It- this grief, it's like a wound, Spock."
"As you so often tell me, Leonard, you are a doctor. You treat wounds, better than most. You are healing the captain. The best way to heal that grief is to continue to do so. But if you damage yourself with overwork, you will not be able to care for him to the best of your abilities."
McCoy was silent for a moment before nodding.
"You're right... Thank you, Spock."
"It is... My pleasure, Leonard."
When he visited again that night, he found McCoy asleep on a cot not far from Kirk's bed, PADD still in hand. He had showered and shaved. The plate Nyota had sent him was now empty, and someone, presumably nurse Chapel, had covered him with the knitted blanket that he usually kept on the couch in his office.
Spock allowed himself to feel relieved, and quietly retreated, turning down the lights as he did so. The next morning, Kirk woke up.
🌹
"He may be a little disoriented when he wakes up," M'Benga told the assembled officers. "It was touch and go there, and we nearly lost him a few times. But I do believe he will make a full recovery."
"You are sure?" Chekov asked, his face pale. Sulu had his hand on his back for support.
"Yes. He is stable. Now all he needs is rest."
"Thank you," Kirk spoke up, gripping one of McCoy's hands from his place beside his bed. "Bones couldn't have been in better hands."
"You remind him of that when he wakes up," M'Benga laughed quietly, his calm manner helping ease the tension in the crowd. "You can talk to him now, too. Even if he doesn't hear you, it'll help him to have friendly voices around."
Scotty coughed to hide a relieved sniffle, and patted Kirk's shoulder amiably.
"Why don't you start, Captain?"
Kirk nodded, thinking.
"Bones, you know we all love you, right? So you've gotta come back to us. It's not the same without you here yelling at me."
"Indeed, Doctor. Your colorful metaphors are... Missed." Spock looked down the line of visitors expectantly.
"Da, and you promised to let us talk to Joanna next time she called you!" Chekov watched the sleeping man eagerly.
"Yeah, she and Demora are going to space camp together," Sulu pitched in. "If you don't wake up soon, who's gonna tell them how dangerous it is?"
Nyota laughed at that, and everyone (save Spock) grinned.
"Aye, Len. And you're gonna have to be the one to tell Jaylah what happened, you know," Scotty said. "Otherwise the lassie's likely to steal a ship and come all the way from Earth to make sure you aren't still hurt."
"What about you, Uhura?" Kirk asked. "You know how he likes to hear you sing. Why don't you sing one of his favorites."
"Good idea," she nodded, thinking. "I know just the one."
Soon the medbay was filled with her soft, comforting voice.
"I'll keep you safe..."
🌹 This was a long one! Thank you for reading! This was based on a prompt by @hlabounty96 ! I hope you enjoyed! 🌹
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ricinbach · 3 years
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mercy. | chapter 3 - reverie
waking up was never this different.
Sounds of water trailing down the pool waterfall echoed as drinks poured and barbecue was served.
Everything felt so good, so normal, almost mundane. It had been a cheerful, sunny day of summer, warmth seeping into your bones, making your skin shine as you lounged by the pool. Droplets of cool water splashed on your face, a crisp interlude to your reverie. Fingertips loosely wrapped around the ice cold drink, taking occasional sips from it. Kids laughed and cheered as they played, splashing you with water in the meantime. You did not mind. You had always been fond of them.
“Think she’ll walk again?”
“Hell, I’d be surprised if she lived.”
Children lured you to play with them in the pool. You could not be anywhere near bothered from your comfortable spot with the mango-flavored drink in your hand, cooling you. Their squeaky voices had been so excited that you gave it a second thought. Playing in the pool sounded like a lot of fun, certainly more fun you had in a while at your stressful job. You wanted to go back, at least for a little while, to the peaceful times when you were a little girl, how you would jump from floaties and giggle and spread happiness. Oh, how you loved summer, spent at the shore, without a single care in the world, enjoying everything the beautiful weather offered you.
"I'm jumping in!"
Drops of water from the cool rag placed on your forehead woke you up, in more ways than one. The dried blood and bruises on your face appreciated the feeling, sending a relaxing tingle over your skin. Your could feel, feel your fingertips, the humid air engulfing them against their dried texture. Consciously breathing, your lungs getting filled up with air once more. Your eyes took their sweet time in fluttering open, a blurred vision welcoming you into reality.
It would have been the epitome of a peaceful resurrection if it was not for the two strangers staring you dead in the eye from above.
It was ironic, really. A gruff, dark-haired guy and a much smaller, green-eyed, young little girl staring you down like you were the odd bunch in this scenario. You dealt with much worse, held captive by far more terrible, dark souls.
Were you at the mercy of this odd little survival gig now?
“Where -” your lips moved, with the pathetic excuse of a voice you have left. Your vocal cords didn’t want to co-operate either, apparently, as you spoke in a low, raspy tone. All of the limbs in your frail, undernourished body screamed at you not to move, as you laid on an old, dirtied mattress. “…where am I?” you managed to ask. Your lungs fought for air in a desperate inhale as you gasped uncontrollably, taking in the stuffiness mixed in with the linger of mold in the room. As your vision cleared out gradually, you find yourself trying to look around where you were holed up in.
Just how long had you been out?
Sweat was forming on your battered skin and the room felt stuffy, so your instincts told you it was late summer still. Another question to add to the growing list to ask these...hunters? Fireflies?
No, you would have recognized them if they were. There were not many left flying around.
Your conscience was beginning to come back into you, slowly but steadily with every single heartbeat and breath taken, like waves in a lazy ocean. You almost didn't want to be conscious - wanted to be left alone, just sleeping in a safe place, without a care in the world.
Yet, it looked like this cruel, relentless leftover of the universe had more in store for you.
It took a couple of moments of steadying your breathing - then it hit you. Pain, lots of it, invading your mid-thigh like a swarm of ants all over your skin. It was the kind of pain that almost-healed, sore wounds created, nevertheless, you hadn't been able to feel any sort of sense during the time you were asleep - God knows how long - and it was making itself known alright. You let out a hiss, your eyebrows furrowing as your gaze directed itself to your bandaged wound.
The lower half of your pants were missing, cut-off right below the bandages... how the hell? Last you remembered, you had a bullet in your thigh, almost dying of blood loss in a tenement high-rise on your way out of the state, and your pants covered your lower leg.
Why, on the damned scorched earth, would anyone help out someone like you?
"You're in safety," the gruff man spoke, a vague answer to your question, his voice sounding low and threatening beneath that peppered beard. "for now."
The two little words he added at the end with such a tone that you just knew  he would shoot you on the spot if you tried to do anything stupid by his books. You could not do anything but nod, and gulp. Even that hurt.
Your worried expression seemed to go unnoticed as an exasperated voice intruded your thoughts. "Yeah, Joel, this is a terrible idea," the girl who was looking down on you earlier with bright, green eyes scoffed, shaking her head, her hand flying out to gesture at you. "The hell were you thinkin'? She cannot even walk - what are we gonna do with her?"
Just what was this little girl talking about? You could not help but look in between the two survivors, the man supposedly named Joel shooting the girl a side glance, his flannel-covered arms folded in front of him as he kept his gaze on you. He looked strong, very strong - the type of hardened survivor that could snap your dainty little neck in half if he wanted to. There had been just something about him, something that you could not quite place a finger on. It took you another look in his green eyes combined with the familiar crimson patterns of the flannel that stretched on his chest to finally come to your senses. Was this...
"Wait," you called out, trying to lean yourself on your forearms with a hiss. "You're the guy who saved me from the hunters," you continued, as if trying to make yourself believe rather than ask the guy, couple strands of hair falling onto your damp face as you propped yourself up. The scoffs and the little murmurs of you gotta be kidding me coming from the teen, ringing in your ears.
"Thank you. Not a whole lot showin' mercy these days."
"Damn right, y'hear that Joel? We've heard that before," the kid started talking again, this time in a little mocking tone as she crossed her arms and walked over to your figure, her eyebrows furrowed and her fiery green gaze focused on the gruff man.
If anything, this had to be a rather unusual dynamic between a father and a daughter you had ever seen - made you think that he had taught her well, not to trust strangers and all. Oh, she surely had to be his daughter, judging by your first impressions of her - fiery, headstrong. But what the hell was your fault? The man had helped you himself, carried you to safety and she sure as hell wasn't there when those damned hunters ambushed you in that high-rise right when you was about to escape Pittsburgh.
What were they going to do with you? You were surprised when the man had left you some supplies back in the city, you supposed he had cleared out the damned infected scraping at your door but compared to the level of surprise that you had looking at the little girl and her father, arguing about what they were to do about you - the former had been nothing. Even in your weakened state, it did not make sense in the survival mindset that you all had grown so accustomed to over the past twenty years, to take in a damsel in distress simply because you wanted to play the hero for a while.
It was a hard-learned truth that there had been no heroes left in this empty shell of the world - it was the survival of the most cruel, most resourceful and the most violent.
Hell, if you had been in his position when he found you, you would be quick to put a bullet into your head - without glancing at the dead look in your eyes.
You had done it many times before. You were damn sure he had as well, else he would not be surviving this far into the outbreak. Why was this one time different?
The man in front of you, standing all tall and broad, had a contrasting troubled expression in that rogue face of his. Just one look at him could tell you he had seen the worst of the outbreak, killed and tortured. That strength he seemingly possessed and that recluse surrounding his aura did not come from simple blind luck. His eyes assessed you, every single movement you made - almost as if he was judging whether to spare you or kill you right there on that ugly mattress based on what your next moves entailed.
It was not like you could even raise your hand to throw a punch - the strange pair knew you could not harm them even if you so wanted to. You had been down the road of recovery before, getting shot many times in the course of a pandemic, a couple days of rest would get you back on your feet. Before, you had always been alone or with people you somewhat trusted. Not with complete strangers who acted out of their sheer leftover notion of mercy to save you.
You were vulnerable, in such a state that you depended on them, on someone if you wanted to continue the little survival gig you had been on for two decades. Over at the corner of the room, you could spot your familiar backpack with your supplies staying intact in it, your trusted guns resting on the floor beside. Unarmed and weak, you slowly rose yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed, dragging your injured thigh along as your feet touched the ground, your jaw clenched all the while to avoid screaming out of pain. It was not the time to show weakness, to emit even the slightest grunt of misery - even a small sound, a little indication of you not being able to tolerate pain would decide whether they left you abandoned there or not if you were deemed useless in their eyes.
"Look," your voice would echo across the wooden panels of the room, making the little girl in front of you move her hand to the pistol tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Your hand rose up in defense, indicating that you meant no harm, your tired orbs moving back and forth between the pair as the stuffy air in the room felt even more stale with the added tension of the unknown.
"I don't know who you both are but I know you saved me from that mess," you would speak slowly, your tone softening ever so slightly as your gaze rested on the man. "If it wasn't for you, hell, I'd be long dead from blood loss. I'd like to repay you in some way."
To your surprise, the little girl's expression grew even more grim as her eyebrows furrowed in doubt and distrust, however, her hand left the revolver she had been holding onto earlier only for them to be placed on her hips as her green orbs bore daggers into you. If only you could look in the mirror then, you would see the helpless expression your delicate features harbored, an unusual feat by itself.
With the girl's watchful eyes over him, the gruff man crouched in front of you, couple feet away to match your gaze due to his towering height. Your eyes immediately focused into his amber green ones, with glints of doubt and fear in them, as well as determination. One of his large hands would stroke his peppered beard slightly, lost in thought yet his gaze never faltering from your orbs, his elbows resting on his bent knees.
"Think you can handle a gun once you're walkin'?" he asked, though he already had an inkling of an idea that you had been a decent marksman based on the body he had found on the first floor of the high-rise with a bullet lodged in his skull.
To which, you could only nod with a strong look in your eyes, making it clear you were not playing around.
Much to the little girl's dismay, Joel would nod pensively before getting up and breaking your gaze.
"We leave in a couple of days, and you're comin' along. If you want to pay what you owe me, you're gonna have to protect us. "
next
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Text
100 dialogue prompts (fluff, angst, smut and miscellaneous)
Tumblr media
masterlist
— — — — — X — — — — —
Fluffy / Romantic prompts:
— — — — — X — — — — —
“i love you…”
“you're so beautiful, y'know that?”
“as nice as your name is, it'd sound better with my last name.”
“you're crazy. i love it.”
“how are you so perfect?”
“what did i do to deserve you?”
“no ones ever made me feel this way before…”
“forget about them… you have me now.”
“say yes.” “yes.”
“you're all i've ever wanted.”
“stay… please?”
“but i wanted cuddles!” “fine… only cause you're too cute to deny.”
“why're you smiling at me like that?”
“marry me?”
“do you think i'm attractive?”
“don't go…i can't bear letting you out of my sight.”
“care for a dance?”
“i don't care. i love you and only you.”
“you're my everything. my world.”
“you're cute when you blush.” “shut up…”
“thank you for never giving up on me.”
“i'll never get tired of seeing you.”
“you look adorable in my shirt.”
“i sleep better when you're in my arms.”
“god no, stop.” “but teasing you is too fun to stop!”
— — — — — X — — — — —
Angst / Emotional prompts:
— — — — — X — — — — —
“did you even love me?”
“you lied! you lied to my face and you're doing it again!”
“don't you see what you're doing to me? you're tearing me apart!”
“don't make me choose between the two of you…” “why? cause i won't be your first choice?"
“sometimes it feels like it'd be better if we never met.”
“i'm sorry.” “you broke me… you broke my heart and a single ‘i'm sorry’ won't fix that.”
“wake up please!”
“but i love you…” “no you don't! stop the fucking mind games!”
“no! don't you dare close your eyes!”
“i tried… guess it wasn't enough, huh?” “just stay with me ok? don't leave me…”
“i'm done with your bullshit.”
“is everything just a joke to you!?”
“stop! just stop!”
“don't you dare walk out on me!”
“you always do this!”
“you never learn, do you?”
“i didn't mean it!” “i think it's best if you leave.”
“i don't know who you are anymore!”
“it sucks because as much as i want to hate you… i can't.”
“why can't you love me without any strings attached?”
“what's the point of trying anymore?”
“make it end… please.”
“how sick do you have to be to say something like that?”
“lie to me. lie to me and tell me you love me.”
“you're good, i'll give that to you. for a second i genuinely thought you cared.”
— — — — — X — — — — —
Smutty / Steamy prompts:
— — — — — X — — — — —
“you look good but you'd look so much better with my hand wrapped around your throat.”
“so pretty when you're all marked up…”
“you better be quiet… unless you want them to hear how needy you are?”
“are you asking me to fuck you?” “what if i was?”
“you're enjoying this, aren't you? you like when i'm jealous?”
“you're mine. y'hear me? fucking mine.”
“touch me… please…”
“look at you, on your knees, begging for me. such a perfect angel for me."
“open your mouth.”
“screaming so loud i bet the neighbours can hear, but you'd like that wouldn't you? you want them to hear what a slut you are.”
“i'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to stand tomorrow."
“stop teasing me! i can't hold it any longer!” “you wanna cum? fucking beg me then.”
“you better watch your fucking mouth before i put a gag in it.”
“how would you feel about inviting another person to join us?”
“you think you're so cute letting them touch you, don't you? well we'll see how cute you look when i get you alone tonight.”
“harder…”
“what would they think if they saw you right now? all fucked out, begging for more.”
“needy little thing, aren't you?”
“shh, it's alright. i'll take care of you.”
“aww, getting all shy are we? what happened to that attitude you had earlier?”
“y'know, i was hoping to make a sandwich but seeing as you're here already, wearing that, i'd rather have something else to eat.”
“you're adorable when you cry.”
“poor baby… do i turn you on that much?”
“touching yourself to the thought of me i see?”
“fuck you.” “please do.”
— — — — — X — — — — —
Random / Misc. prompts:
— — — — — X — — — — —
“is that my shirt?” “it was yours but it's mine now.”
“did you seriously just call me pretty?”
“stop poking me!” “don't sit so close to me then!”
“why are you on my bed?” “cause your couch isn't comfortable.”
“oh yeah, cause i totally haven't heard that one before.”
“do you have a death wish?” “yes.”
“i'm not stupid!” “could've fooled me.”
“you're so dramatic, it's just a tiny spider.”
“i have the overwhelming urge to hit someone with a bat.”
“i know where you sleep.”
“you're bloody insane, y'know that?” “that's why i'm so fun to be around!”
“oh, i'm sorry. does me being half naked district you?” “piss off.”
“you're really short, y'know that?”
“stop ignoring me.”
“i think i'm in love!” “who's the unlucky victim this time?”
“i'm going to kill you.” “good luck with that.”
“you're an asshole.” “it's part of my charm.”
“would liking me really be so bad?”
“i'm no doctor, but i'm pretty sure you need medical assistance. like now.”
“you read?” “no shit, captain obvious.”
“i just wanted you to love me.”
“you're insufferable.” “thanks!”
“i can't escape the voices anymore.”
“and here i thought you didn't care.”
“radical suggestion for you: shut the fuck up.”
— — — — — X — — — — —
just a few prompts for y'all incase you were looking for some!
also feel free to ask for them in requests if you'd like <3
— — — — — X — — — — —
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borealopelta · 3 years
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Take care of yourself, y'hear? We love you, you are valid, and NEVER let anyone tell you otherwise.... Ok? Stay strong 💪
will try! thank you!! no promises but also if i weren't here who else would be annoying the shit out of you lot <3
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