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brighttears · 1 year ago

Note

heyy bright 😁 so i’ve been realizing that i think most of your fics are Jackson/ after QZ joel (correct me if i’m wrong though, this is just what i think i’m noticing) and i’m wondering what are your thoughts on QZ Joel? would you ever write for him? (^з^)-☆

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description except female sex organs and having hair, no use of y/n

Word count: 9.7k

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, angel, good girl), creampie, Joel has a big ol weiner, drinking, mention of violence, blood, mention of prostitution (does not occur, has not occurred in the past), smoking (cigar, cigs briefly), sad!Joel for a minute but happy ending :), Tess doesn’t exist (sorry Tess)

A/n: you are right i’ve been noticing that i lean too much on Jackson so thank u for this request and i’m gonna try not to do that. had no intention of this being this long it just kind of happened lol. i know i didn't explicitly answer your question but i hope this explains some? idk this just came out of me so here it is i hope you enjoy !!!

—

Boston is ugly. It’s impossible to breathe a clean breath, impossible to get clean. Joel’s lungs are black and he doesn't smile. He may sleep, but he gets no rest, and you can see it easily in his eyes. The QZ is full of sickness—lying, cheating, stealing, there's no honor here. It's impossible not to have some of it rub off on you. It's almost impossible to see anything past it. Almost.

The first time Joel saw you he felt like a rat stepping onto a glue trap. He hadn’t realized he had stopped to stare until someone bumped into his shoulder, taking him back into the bustling street, and then you’d disappeared and he honestly wasn’t sure if he’d actually seen that beautiful girl or not. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, dropping dreams or ghosts down just to make things interesting. He mostly shook it off. Still, only half believing that you were even real, he’d catch himself scanning around, looking for you out in the streets. And then he saw you again, and again, minding your business somewhere across the street, painting over Firefly logos while under guard’s watch—never somewhere that he could get to. Every time he saw you felt like taking a hit of you, and he always wanted more. Whenever he found himself with too little to do, he’d set out, treating Boston like a maze to find you, slipping around booths and through speakeasies and alleys. Despite how packed Boston is, goddamn, you were hard to find. He was aware that it wasn’t… normal behavior, but that’s as far as he got in caring about that. It was a frustrating hobby, though, like an itch he couldn't scratch, because he didn’t understand what he was feeling, or what he wanted, or who the fuck you thought you were, doing this to him, or how he was going to get himself out of this one. He had to interrogate himself to figure out that what he wanted was for you to need him.

He wanted you to be with him, never leave his side, never want to leave, and he’d be so good to you, he’d be the knight to your queen. You had him bad, you were driving him crazy.

You had burrowed your way into his head. It was nice to have something to daydream about, though—your smile, a smile that he gave you, that’d be for him. He’d daydream about you dancing, you’d be twirling with your eyes closed, arms out, all lit up in orange light like evening sun but holier, and he’d reach out and your fingers would brush his and you’d smile with your eyes closed because you wouldn’t have to open them to know that it’s him. And then he’d spin you into his arms, wrap you up, hold you safe. He’d daydream about his hands on your stomach, holding your back against him, your hair on his face. He would dream about you taking his face in your hands, kissing him, loving him, fucking him. He imagined your voice—put together from small bites of ‘overheard’ conversations—telling him you’re his.

They used to make rings for this shit. Now all you’ve got is metaphors and sex. What a world to love in.

The problem with all of this, however, is that he wanted to know you already. Joel doesn’t know how to develop this kind of relationship, with anyone, actually, and he cringed at the idea of actually trying to do it. If he did even end up finding you, what the fuck was he supposed to say? He genuinely could not come up with an answer. So, thank god for Robert—never thought he’d be saying that, but on this day only, thank god for his cheap, dumbass tricks, and Joel’s dumbass for agreeing to trade with him, and being ripped off again, because that’s how you met.

Being the coward he is, Robert had sent a third party to meet with you and him—apparently buying the same product—that somehow thought you wouldn’t check the goods, and then you spent the whole day together hunting that fucker down. You were the one who threw the first punch once you found him, and Joel liked that because he didn’t feel bad for hitting him, too. And then you got your ration cards back, and you came home with him.

In just those few hours, a bond had formed, and all those days he’d spent looking for you fell away. Cliches were clicking in his head. He offered you his smuggled jungle juice and somewhere to clean off your bloody fist.

Now, you’re here in his apartment, the door swinging softly shut behind you. Joel stands frozen across the room from you, a knee sticking out, unsure if you can feel the rope of tension between you or if it’s just him. He wants you here and it makes him uncomfortable. Mind blank and swimming at the same time, he’s not sure what to say. When he does, he can’t find the correct conduct, weakly and awkwardly jutting his chin out in a sort of nod. Finding himself unable to speak softly, his cadence is a mess that rolls through almost incoherently. He can’t believe how silly the sentence that came out of him is:

“Have you been lookin’ for me as hard as I’ve been lookin’ for you?”

You shift your weight. “Maybe.”

Joel barely ever has company. To be frank, the few times he’s had women over, it’s been for sex, and the longest they stay is if they fall asleep, and they’re almost always up and gone before he wakes. So, here is a beautiful woman in his apartment, and he wants you, so his first instinct is to get you in bed. That doesn’t feel right though—not because he doesn’t want to fuck you, but because he wants more than that. He doesn’t want a one night stand. He wants to savor you. He wants to know you. He wants you to stay.

The unfamiliarity and lack of clarity of what to do here frightens him.

“So you got a rag I can stain?” You break the silence for him, holding your hand to massage your palm with your thumb.

“Yeah, uh,” Joel walks into the kitchen, flicking his eyes around. He knows what rag you can use but he forgot that it might be too embarrassing to bring out. There are not many options though, he can’t let you use the one clean rag he does have.

“If you can’t find one it’s alright, I can use my shirt, I just need the sink.”

Joel turns to you, taken off guard, but catches telling details when he looks you up and down. Your jeans are dark so you can’t immediately see that there are brown stains around the ripped knees, and lines of more old blood are swiped over the side of your thigh, which he knows come from wiping off a blade. Realizing that you do in fact live in the same world as him, Joel opens a crooked drawer and pulls out a rag that used to be white but is now mostly brown with dried blood. Without looking at you, he wets the somewhat stiff cloth in the sink and hands it to you.

You barely pause, taking it casually. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He mumbles, hiking up his jeans and trying to covertly watch you wipe away at your hand. A large part of him wants to take your hand in his, wipe and dab at it himself, make sure it’s clean, and then bandage it, slowly and carefully. He wants to take care of you, show you gentleness and kindness, but, no matter how much he wants to be soft and personal, to connect, he seems unable to actually act on it. His face flashes in self depreciation before he instead goes to the floorboards in his bedroom, fishing around for that drink he promised you.

A smile spreads over your face as he emerges back with the bottle and Joel almost stops dead in his tracks at it, at him, because of him. Well, because of alcohol, but he was the one providing it, at least.

He trades you the bottle for the rag and you waterfall it while he scrubs drying blood from between his fingers. Your face twists up as you swallow and you laugh.

While he watches yours, Joel can feel his lip curling up and he asks, “What’s that for?”

“This shit is pure. I’m used to it being watered down.”

“Oh, yeah. Got that from Robert, actually.” He tells you, motioning towards it. “One of the only times he’s been useful.”

“What are the other times?” You stay smiling.

Joel mindlessly circles the rough cloth over top his hand and looks down when he answers, “Well, today.” Because he brought me to you. These half–admittances are escapees, like his brain can’t help but be truthful with you. No matter how much one side screams ‘danger’ at the other, he needs to do something to make an attachment, he needs you to know that he wants you around, he can’t let you slip away. He can’t get himself to say that last part, though.

You hum and hold the bottle out to him. He swipes the rag over his hand one last time, then tosses it onto the table and takes the bottle, wishing you’d let your lips around it so he could get a taste of you without taking any risks.

Risks. What is he willing to do for this? For this feeling? How far is he willing to be taken with it? He can barely grasp the ideas behind it. It’s familiar, but what is it? How much does he care about its definition? He swigs.

“Have you traded with Robert a lot?”

Joel nods as he swallows with a grimace, then elaborates, “You could say that. More like been ripped off by ‘im a lot.”

“So you’re a chump?” You smirk.

Joel halfheartedly glares at you and you only smirk further. “No. Just desperate. Not a lot of options.” He passes the bottle.

“So you’re the kind of guy who takes what he can get.” You say before raising it, to your lips now.

He almost chuckles, watching your mouth, “I didn’ take shit, remember?”

You shrug and hand him back the bottle. “So what are you gonna do with all those ration cards now?”

Joel focuses on being able to tell what of what he’s tasting is the alcohol and what is you. He licks his lips after he swallows. “Don’t know yet… What’re you gonna do?”

“I was thinking about buying a really expensive coat. Like a mink's fur coat.” Joel gives you a look like he’s not completely sure if you’re being serious or not. “I’m kidding. I’m getting fucking food. I’ve been skipping a meal a day for the last two weeks saving up for what we didn’t get.”

As he hands you the bottle again, the thought of that pangs Joel’s chest. If you stay with me, you’ll never have to do that again. I can provide for you. “I have food.”

You stare at him as you lift the bottle to your lips, and after you swallow, say “I’m not asking for your food.” Your face is straight and voice bristled.

“No, I know,” Joel stammers, “I was just offerin’—”

“I don’t want your food.” You shove the bottle at his chest and cross your arms once he takes it, leaning back a foot.

An offer like that is no longer simple friendliness, but Joel didn’t think about that before he spoke. Intentions mean less than jack shit and social rules are more like laws to live by these days; you probably think he’s trying to bargain for sex. “I’m sorry,” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, “that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah, ok, well, thanks for the drink, I’ll see you around.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry,” he reaches out for your arm, and even though he lets go as soon as he closes his hand around it, it’s enough to scare you away entirely and you rush out of his apartment without looking back, slamming the door shut behind you. He jerks it right back open, holding himself in the doorway with another “Wait,” as he watches you barrel down the hallway and disappear down the stairs. “Fuck.” He whispers. Joel retreats back into his apartment and slams the door behind him, stopping just inside to rub his hand over his forehead. It’s a fair reaction on your part, he just happened to be the 1% of people to make a move like that not intending to harm you.

This is the exact opposite of what he was going for. His hand slaps to his side as he lets it fall.

As Joel’s eyes wander over the table, he catches something in his peripheral, and spots two ration cards. They’re not his, they must have fallen out of your pocket.

Like a shot, Joel snatches them up and is out the door, bounding down the steps and throwing himself out through the front door. He skids to a stop just outside, turning left and right until he spots you still making haste away from his place. “Wait!” He calls out again as he weaves through the street toward you. When you stop and turn to him his hand shoots up, showing you the cards.

You shoot daggers and as soon as he’s in front of you, bark, “I’m not a fucking prostitute. I’m not gonna fuck you for food.”

“No, no, count your cards, these aren’t mine, they’re yours. I swear.”

Still glaring, you pull the stack out of your back pocket and flip through them. When you finish, you bite the inside of your cheek, shove them into your pants instead of your pocket, and hold your hand out for your missing two. You’re staring him straight in the eyes as he hands them over and you add them to the rest, and then your expression softens. Joel takes this opportunity to try to have you give him another chance.

“I swear, I didn’t mean any a that like that. I know how it sounded, I wasn’t thinkin’. I’m not lookin’ for anythin’ like that. I swear.”

You chew on your lip for a moment. “Okay. Fine.” You blink and pull at your waistband.

Joel takes a deep breath, but his relief is short lived. Shit. Now what? I can’t ask her to ‘come back to my place’, and if I ask to walk her home she’ll probably think the same fucking thing. Joel is not used to trying to gain someone's trust. What would convince him? No answer comes.

Gravel shifts under your foot as you turn more towards him, resting a hand on your hip and cocking your head. Suddenly, Joel feels pressure under your gaze and readjusts his posture, straightening, but struggles with his gaze. The interaction is one of assessing dominance—more of you checking his. Joel grinds his jaw with his eyes focused down on the hand on your hip. This goes against instinct, which would be to puff out his chest, cross his arms, raise his chain to glare down his nose. He is not afraid of you, you’re not trying to threaten him, and he understands what you’re doing and that he needs to convey a level of submitance; he owes it to you now that he’s made you suspect he’s trying to manipulate you into sex. His throat bobs as he swallows his pride, then shifts his eyes back up to yours. When you relax, he lets out a breath and follows.

“Okay, look,” you begin, “I’m not helpless just because I’m a woman, I can carry my fucking own, you should know that by now, but… I know Robert’s got guys, and I am aware of the risk of being a woman, and I also respect the buddy system. So, walk with me?” It’s your turn to struggle with your gaze, flipping your eyes between his and the ground.

A confetti cannon goes off in Joel’s head. “Alright.” He nods.

“Alright.” You nod back, take a step backwards, then turn back to where you were heading originally. The two of you fall into an even stride, silently focusing on your death stares as you journey through the loud, filthy, reeking streets of the Boston QZ. Joel thinks he spots a couple suspicious characters as you walk and is grateful that he came after you and that you let him walk you home.

The sky’s blue is beginning to darken and the crowds are dwindling. Curfew is fast approaching, but Joel doesn’t want to ask you how much further, because, for one, he doesn’t want there to be a whiff of doubt that he’s no less than happy to be doing this, and, if it does get to be too late, maybe you’ll let him spend the night. It’s unlikely that you’ll be having sex, but that’s fine; he guesses you’re right, he is the kind of guy who will take what he can get.

“Okay, you’re free to go.” You snap Joel out of his thoughts, pulling out a bit of disappointment that you’re already here. Your building is short and wide, with graffiti littering the bottom and most of the low windows boarded up or taped over with rustling plastic. A burly and sunburnt young man smokes a daring cigarette on the steps and you exchange amicable nods with him.

Joel pauses, looking around and hiking up his pants trivially. The lack of promise that he’ll ever be able to speak to you again stirs anxiety in him and he searches again for the right thing to say. “Alright, well, it was nice to meet you.” He struggles again with some kind of cordial inflection, nodding and clearing his throat.

“You, too. I’ll see you around.” You nod back, then add a reassuring “Okay?”

Joel nods again, staying to watch you go. Once you’re out of sight, he takes a deep breath. The man on the steps spits and eyes Joel, so he leaves, hustling back to make it before curfew.

Back in his apartment, Joel returns the alcohol back under the floor and his bloody towel into its drawer. He strips his flannel, removes his boots, and lays back on his bed, the setting sun casting a sheet of orange over his body. Pulling his pillow under his head and folding his arms behind it, Joel sighs loudly and shuts his eyes. Today was fucking exhausting, more for his mind than body. It has been the strangest day he’s had in a long time. Laying with his eyes closed, Joel picks through his mind for explanations and answers. What’s happening inside of him? What is he looking for? What happened today? His brow pinches as he wracks and wracks.

Friend. When the word surfaces it breaks with panic and Joel jolts into a sitting position. Girl–friend. He forgot that that’s even a word. He rubs his face with his hand until he feels like he knows where he is again. What the fuck going on with him? Does he think, what, that he’s gonna take you on a ‘date’? And go where exactly? One of those slimy speakeasies, stay for five minutes until a fight breaks out and/or FEDRA fucking crashes it? Oh, yeah, how about spending the night sitting in opposite cells? That would allow for a lot of alone time, except for the fully armed and immoral guard. He could take you out past the walls, maybe find an abandoned restaurant and hope neither of you get bit or killed while checking it out so that you can sit down on dust caked chairs to clink glasses full of dirt.

That shit isn’t possible. Joel lets himself fall back into the mattress.

Maybe a quick fuck will do the trick after all.

But, still with that thought comes a gust of dread as he imagines then seeing you out on the street in the days following and having to avoid eye contact. Well what if you could just keep having sex? And just, hang out, you know, maybe if you could… come to live with him and then that way—fuck. That’s like dating.

‘Dating’ sounds so stupid, like you’re going to go sit at a diner sipping the same milkshake with two straws.

Well what if you’re just as fucked up and broken as he is? Would that make it any better? Then he wouldn’t scare you if he gets night terrors because you get them, too, and you’d understand about the violence and bloodshed. Thinking more on it, though, Joel realizes that all that that would really mean is that you probably have the same amount of fucking issues with ‘friends’.

“Shit.”

Joel flips to his side, shoving his arm under the pillow again to press his face into it. He’s lost, and fucked. Maybe the answer will come to him in the morning. Probably not, but he’s fucking tired, so let’s just say it will.

—

The morning brings no answers, only more confusion and anxiety. His head has become jumbled in the night and Joel’s not sure about any of it anymore.

Too close. He doesn’t even know you. You could be one of Robert’s guys, for all he knows. No, that makes no sense. If you were going to rob him you would have already. What else could you want? Jesus, did you drug him? He knows the truth, that he has feelings for you, he just really does not want that to be the case.

But, at the same time, there is the brown haired puppy dog that still lives in him, dreaming up how to get you flowers and how much he likes your hair and your eyes and how you talk. You’re a beautiful person, both in the surface level, physical sense, but also as an individual being. Even though you’ve only known each other for a day, he has seen enough to understand that you are, at least to a level, a safe person. Tulips, he needs to find tulips for you.

Either way, he just needs to find a way to slow this all the fuck down.

He shouldn’t get involved with you. You shouldn't get involved with him. He shouldn't trust you. You don't know who he is. He could change for you. You’re gonna get him killed. He’s gonna get you killed. The life he wants with you isn’t possible. He’s the kinda guy who will take what he can get. God, he needs to fuck you at least. Goddamnit, he doesn't want you to think that's all you are to him. Can’t you at least just be friends? What does that even mean? He wishes he never met you. He immediately takes that back. Why is this happening to him? Both sides of him can dig that last one.

Joel groans and rubs his face with his hands. He stands, stretching his arms up and squeezing his eyes shut against the bright yellow morning light. His arms drop down to scratch at his chest over his sleeveless undershirt. Socked feet sweep over the hardwood floor over to the kitchen where he slaps cold water from the tap onto his face. Noticing wisps of blood still on his hands, he scrubs at them with his nails under the water. He forgot to sign up for any work today because he spent all day yesterday dealing with Robert, and… hanging out with you.

With another whiney groan, Joel swats the faucet’s handle off and plants his hands on either side of the sink, letting water drip from his nose as he stares into the drain. Hanging out? People do that. He’s seen people just kind of sit around somewhere and talk, not doing deals, but, like, on their porches, sitting on side by side folding chairs. Yeah, people hang out. He imagines himself asking you if you want to ‘hang out’; he’s chewing gum with sunglasses and a backwards hat on, you’re in pigtails and reject him and he kicks rocks on his way home.

He has had friends before, but it was from traveling in a group, trying to survive, when you kind of have to spend all your time together. There’s little choice and little room to decide if you actually like this person, little time to even actually get to know them, and they die a lot. That’s what he’s used to, and that is not what he wants with you.

“The fuck am I doin’.” Joel mutters to himself, watching trails of water shine as they trickle down towards the drain.

Soft, fully brown haired Joel swings his legs on one of his shoulders: “Go out n’ see if she’s around.”

Baggy–eyed, forever frowning Joel digs his fingers into his other shoulder: “If you ever see her again, you better walk the other fuckin’ direction.”

Puppy dog Joel furrows his brow and leans over to look at the other: “She’s a nice girl.”

Morose Joel glares back: “No such fuckin’ thing. An’ if she is, we’ll fuckin’ ruin ‘er.”

“Jesus. You’re paranoid. Can’t you just let us be happy?”

“No such fuckin’ thing.”

Joel smacks his hand to his forehead and pushes away from the sink. He lifts the bottom of his white shirt to rub his face dry and goes to sit back down on his bed to pull on his shoes, grabbing his other flannel and finishing buttoning it as he walks down the hall to exit his apartment building. He’s not sure what he’s doing—not admitting that he’s going to end up heading in the direction of your apartment—but he needs to get out of his head, and the QZ offers plenty of distractions. Here’s one now, as soon as he steps outside—

“Hey friend,”

Joel whips around to the voice at the corner of his building, a man his size but wiry, with saddle brown skin and an overly genial smile.

“You look lost.”

Joel narrows his eyes.

“Well, if you’re feelin’ lost—”

“Give me a fuckin’ break.” Joel cuts in. “That shit is meaningless. Hope is dead, jackass.”

The man’s face instantly falls, disheartened, and he leans his shoulder against the brick. Joel huffs and moves on, shaking his head. That look makes a small part of him remorseful, like a thorn in his side, so he decides to stop at a speakeasy.

He has to squint against the rising sun as he walks, so he doesn’t catch you until you’re right on him, asking, “Where’re you headed?”

Joel freezes, placing his hand on his brow to shade his eyes to see you smiling. Like remedied, all that anxiety and apprehension rolls off of him like water off a duck's back. “For a drink.” He answers, returning a serene smile.

“Don’t you have that at home?”

“Yeah, well I jus’… wanted to get outta there.” He shifts out of the suns glare.

You hum and nod. “I get that. What about my place? I don’t have alcohol, but I do have a cigar.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. “A cigar?”

You nod. “Well they didn’t have any mink coats, so I got the second best thing.” Your mouth twists up into a mischievous smile and you swivel your torso back and forth. When Joel’s lips start to curl, you turn, watching him over your shoulder as you walk until he joins you.

When the two of you get to your apartment, the young burly man is still on the steps; he winks at Joel as he follows you past, and Joel stares back until the door shuts behind him. Inside, as he follows you up the narrow, winding staircase, he spends the entire five-flight journey to the top floor conflicted about where to let his gaze fall.

“Alright, this is my floor.” You glance over your shoulder at him then grab the door frame to swing into the tight hallway. “End of the hall.”

Your apartment is much smaller than his, and wide. Cracked, off white paint cries uneven, chipped stripes that reach up to the crown molding. Your bedroom is to the immediate right, a narrow room opened by two glass double doors. At the opposite end is another glass door, tall, that opens up to a fire escape. To his left is your kitchen, which is just the wall lined with cupboards, a sink, and white refrigerator. In front of him, a couch is half visible, the rest hidden behind the corner, under a row of three windows. Like his, the curtains are thin torn pieces of fabric. Just before the corner next to the entrance to your bedroom is a gray folding table with three tan metal folding chairs. Walking in, Joel can see in your room a twin bed with rosy sheets and no headboard, its head shoved in the space between the tall glass door and the wall with a thin pillow and singular white sheet. He hopes you have a bunch of other blankets shoved somewhere he can’t see, because it’s only barely summer anymore. The long wall opposite is taken up mostly by bookcases, which hold some books but mostly by all sorts of other things, including clothes. A ragged chair sits next to it, back facing him. Shoved in between the shelves and the tall glass door is a tall lamp, a thin piece of pink fabric laying over a disfigured shade. The carpet is worn and somewhat cluttered; right next to that chair is a pair of lacy black underwear. Joel rips his eyes away from it back to you in front of him, disappearing around the corner for only a moment before reappearing with a fat, half smoked cigar. You twist it in your fingers with a wide smile, flipping open a Zippo lighter in your other hand.

“How did you get that?” Joel asks, astonished. He hasn’t seen a cigar in years but has dreamt about smoking one more than once.

“My friend on the steps outside. Don’t tell anyone, though. Come on,” you nod your head back around the corner and he follows you into a cramped, mellow blue and yellow tiled bathroom. You push out a small broken crank window high up on the wall, pull the door shut behind Joel, and light up the cigar. Leaned against the sink, Joel watches you, very aware of the close quarters. The end of the cigar lights up deep orange and crackles. Your brow is furrowed, Joel can see the hairs of your eyebrows and lashes, a tiny scar in the corner of your eye over the bone of your eye socket. When you pull away, dense smoke snakes out of your mouth. You look down at it as you attempt smoke rings, getting one good one but failing at the rest. When you laugh the rest of the gray puffs out of your mouth.

“Damn it.” you giggle, and hand the cigar and lighter to Joel.

He has to relight it and watches the flame over the end. He sucks in stale, earthy smog; it tastes ancient, but still has some of that discernable cigar flavor. As it fills his mouth, Joel closes his eyes, leans his head back and moans before opening his mouth to let the smoke leave. His eyes are on you as they open, and yours are half lidded, focused on his mouth, a slight smile on your lips. They slowly crawl back up to his eyes, and you look away. Joel takes another puff and makes a sound to get your attention, attempting rings as well, not doing much better than you did.

You hold your hands out, “Ok, let me try again.” You take your time and Joel watches your tongue working in awe. You make a good three rings. Smoke puffs out of your mouth again when you smile at him and pass the cigar back.

Joel focuses his efforts on the rings but keeps his eyes on you watching his mouth. As you do, your smile grows, eyes half lidded again, and you lean your back against the window’s wall, turning your head to see him blow four perfect rings.

“You’re good at that.” You chuckle, staying on his mouth even after he’s done. He takes another puff.

“Practice, I guess. Even though it’s been awhile.”

You hum and finally tear your eyes away from his mouth. He offers the cigar but you shake your head, “That thing is nasty, I’m afraid I’ll throw up if I take one more puff. You can keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. All yours.”

“Thanks.”

“I got it with you in mind, anyway.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. You look like a cigar guy.”

“Well, what did I do to deserve this?”

Your eyes go back to his mouth. “Nothing, I guess… I knew it’d get you over here.” You look down and smile.

Joel sucks in murky smoke, letting it fill his mouth, and wonders how you taste. He’s never wanted someone's saliva in his mouth so much. He reaches behind him to balance the cigar on your sink to let it extinguish on its own. “I won’t make you watch me smoke that whole thing. I’ll take it home with me.” Turning back, he looks you up and down, admiring you, and says, “Thank you.” Those are another set of words that Joel cringes at, but he means it, and he needs you to know that he is grateful for this. The last gift he got was a box of bullets from Tommy on his birthday—not to say that’s a bad gift, or that he’s ever expecting anything on his birthday, but, you gave him a gift, just because, and it’s a luxury. He can’t believe you’re real, he wants to reach out and touch you just to be sure.

“Mhm.” You smile, lifting your fist to rest your lip on, laying your other arm over your torso to support your elbow. Joel drifts over the details—the edge of your lip poking out from where it presses on a finger, the muscle and bone structure of your wrist. He fully appreciates the color of your skin as he follows it until its end at what he can see of your collar, how your chest shapes around the position of your arms. He sees you briefly squeeze your arm around yourself and his eyes are on your hips when he hears your foot shift under you and your body moves a little closer to him.

“Joel?” Your quiet voice brings him back, and you’re blushing.

“Hm?”

Your eyes flutter and you push yourself off from the wall, moving your hand to scratch the back of your head, then face him, though still not looking at him, “Nothing, um, I dunno,” you chuckle nervously.

“What?” He coaxes, growing a light smile.

You finally look at him, folding your arms over your chest and cocking your head as you ask, “Do you have anything going on today?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

Could this be what he thinks? Are you asking him to ‘hang out’?

“Do you wanna… hang out?”

Good lord in heaven, you are.

“Yeah.” He says, then blinks, shifts, and repeats more enthusiastically, “Yeah.”

“Cool.” You offer a small, twitching smile. “Well, we can get out of this tiny bathroom.”

“I don’t mind it.” The truth suddenly jumps out of Joel and as soon as it’s out, he looks at his feet. Please, please, please, don’t let this be him ruining it, again, because second chances are basically extinct.

“Why not?” Your tone is light, not angry or affronted. He looks back up, pausing to consider you, how beautiful you are, how much he really does enjoy being this close to you. The more he realizes how few inches are separating you, the more he aches for your body on his. He swallows hard. Is he being sleazy?

You shift closer and his heart rate picks up. “I mean, I don’t really mind it either.” A light blush blooms over your face and Joel’s lips inadvertently part. When you move closer still, Joel straightens up from the sink, letting his hands rest at his sides, hoping you want them on your hips. “I like being close to you.”

“I wanna be closer.” Joel tells you quietly, then swallows hard again.

Out of the corner of his eye, while he focuses on your face, Joel sees your hand rising cautiously, then feels it rest on his shoulder. He permits his hands to your hips.

From there, naturally and easily, you connect. Your lips touch softly when they meet, then promptly conquering more of each other’s, and finally he tastes you, a pure elixir, and hangs onto your lip with his teeth so that he can raise the dose. Joel breathes deeply through his nose as he savors and his hand brushes up your hip, catching under your shirt and pulling it up slowly with it; feeling your skin warm and bare under his touch shoots directly into his veins. You remove your mouth from his to instead purr into his neck and Joel moans, then adds quietly, “Jesus.” You chuckle before refocusing your lips, gently nipping at and skimming over his skin. His hand glides up to the back of your head and he softly moans again. Lazily, Joel allows you to start slowly unbuttoning his flannel, appreciating his contact with your body and your sensitive touch on his neck. The only way he knows he’s not dreaming is because of your pinching teeth. Once his flannel is undone you smooth your hands down the length of his torso, fingers slipping off of him just before his belt, then come back up, slowing on his shoulders for permission to slip the shirt. Joel takes his hands off of you for the three seconds it takes to pull his flannel off, feeling your hot breath on his neck as you pull away with his shifting. Your eyes meet again and Joel’s heart flutters at how large your pupils are. He watches them move down to cross over his shoulders, your hands following your eyes, and then you look back up at him and bite your lip. Like you’ve flicked a switch with this simple movement, Joel takes your mouth with his tongue and grabs your hips to pull against his. Briefly, he regains composure to check, “Is this ok?” and you confirm with a nod back into his lips, slinging your arms around his neck and rolling your hips. “That a girl,” it escapes him, scaring him for only a moment, but you whine an encouraging moan and press yourself into him. The force leans Joel back over the sink and he has to throw a hand back onto it to keep himself steady.

“Shit, ok, this room is too small now.” You chuckle into each other’s lips and then you pull away, keeping a grip on his hand as you turn the knob and take him around the corner into your room.

Standing just before your bed, you turn back to him and take his face in your hands, sliding your palms over his beard, fingertips on rough skin. They slip into his hair as you bring his face to yours, working back in your welcome tongue. His hands slither around you and then he squeezes you into a hug, relieving his ache for your body, relishing in the pressure of his hold. As you breathe out your head falls back and Joel moves in, licking into a hickey, too absorbed to give a shit about leaving marks. When a hand travels down to your ass and squeezes, you make a sound and hitch your body up.

“You like that?” Joel purrs, fully loose lipped and glued back on yours. When you ‘mhm’ into his mouth he squeezes again, hiking you up himself.

“Joel,” his lips force you to mumble.

“What is it, babygirl?”

All you do is whine, but your answer is in the hand that slides between your bodies to cup the stiff bulge between his legs.

“You want me to fuck you?” He basically growls, sliding the hand up from your ass to grip your side and the other up to your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek and forcing you to meet his eyes. There’s a desperate tweak in your brow that tells him all he needs to know but he waits for you to say it.

“Yes,” you whimper, and then he walks you back onto your bed, the two of you falling onto it with little pause with mouths and hands. Messily, he licks and nibbles at your lips and paws at your chest. Your hands spread over his thick, bare shoulders and biceps, legs shamelessly widening more than they need to under his hips, then hook and pull when he doesn’t bring them down himself.

“You’re fuckin’ horny, huh?” He asks with a slight smirk.

“I just want you. I just want you.” You mumble.

Joel’s brow twists up and he kisses you deeper. You want him, you want him, you want him. “I want you so much, baby. God, I need you. I’ve been wantn’ you so bad since the first time I saw you,” the words are doing nothing more than spilling out of him, but he’s gone now, “so beautiful, such a beautiful girl. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, tugging his shirt up his back.

Joel pushes himself up to stand on his knees and pull his undershirt up and off, then stays over you, panting. Slowly, mindfully, his hands smooth up your body, hooking his thumbs under your shirt, lifting it. You watch his eyes and lift your arms when his hands ask. He slips your shirt off carefully and lets it fall on the floor, and then you’re bare underneath him. The adoration is palpable in his touch as he smooths his calloused hands from the V of your waist over your belly, splitting to slide over your sides but meeting again on your chest. He pets your breasts, teasing your nipples with fleeting touch, and then suddenly dips his body down to lick and tenderly nip one of your nipples. Then his wet lips drag up your collar, your neck, and back to your lips, and his mouth and tongue are gentle but passionate. Joel cherishes every touch you share. Then, your hands go back down to the bulge under his jeans, one rubbing over the cup while the other tugs at his belt. He chuckles into your lips and then rises again to undo his belt. When you try to tug down your pants you both understand the trouble and Joel hoists his legs over you to stand beside the bed, letting you up with him so that you can both undress as quickly and easily as possible. For a moment all there is is the sound of belts clicking and fabric brushing against skin. For whatever reason, you both start to laugh breathily until reattaching mouths smother it out. You fall back on the bed, your legs back open, and Joel wastes little time getting his hands on his dick, unable to help himself from a few strokes before he positions himself at your entrance, swiping his tip up and down your wet slit. Laying his forearm on the bed allows him to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

Nearly slurring, Joel asks, “You ready for me baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “I want you, Joel, please,”

“You don’t need to beg, sweetheart, I gothcu,” he kisses you tenderly, but it breaks as he fills you and you both moan. Joel’s forehead rests briefly on your lips when he looks down to watch himself pushing into you, his fingers pinching his base to guide himself, he prizes this picture of him in between your legs, opened wide for him. As he fits his large, stiff member inside of you your fingers comb through and then grip his hair, making him moan. “Goddamnit baby, what a good girl, takin’ me like this. I know it’s a lot. I know.” He assures you as you squeal, toes curling as he plugs you up. Joel swings his head back up, biting his lip as he watches your face, impressed with himself when he sees your pupils almost disappear back into your head. He nips at your lips but your mouth stays open until he stills his cock inside of you.

You groan, “Oh my god, Joel,”

“Yeah?” He mumbles as he begins to move. You clench around him when you moan and he swears, moving his head down to bite your neck gently as he continues to take himself in and out. He smiles when your hands claw at his back and release his teeth to speak, “Such a good girl for takin’ me like this. You’re a fuckin’ angel.”

“Ok, Joel, I’m good, I’m good, please fuck me,”

Joel growls and links his teeth on your lip again. “Told you darlin’, no need to beg, I’ll give you what you need. How do you want it? You want it hard?”

“I don’t fucking care just fuck me,”

Jesus, if heaven’s real this is what it’ll be.

Joel trusts your word and starts to fuck you how he wants—deep and hard, pounding your pussy in final satisfaction of the need he’s been pinned with since the moment he saw you. The room is full with the sounds of your moans and skin on skin.

“God, look atchu, pretty girl, god, your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight for me.” The sensation of him bumping your cervix and your cunt enveloping him fully is keeping him going like he’s a quarter operated ride that someone slipped fifty cents into. “That feel good, baby? Huh? Does that feel good?” You slap your hand onto the wall above you to keep your head from hitting it with the force of Joel’s thrust and repeatedly breathe out yeses. Joel groans at how your nails dig into his shoulder. “Tell me, tell me how good it feels,”

“Yes, Joel, it feels so good, you fuck me so good,”

“That’s righ’, baby. Gonna treat you so good. So good. So good baby you feel so good.” Joel leans his head back as bottoms out. When you almost scream, Joel stops, frightened, “Shit, you ok?”

“I’m fine Joel,” you laugh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It was—it was good, that felt really good.”

“Oh, alright, I’m sorry, I’m—”

“No, no, I’m fine, Joel it’s good,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, fuck—ok—” you push Joel up and his heartbeat quickens with anxiety. Unsure, he simply follows your movements, climbing off of you, letting you tug his arm and flopping back on the bed for you to mount him.

Now sitting up on your knees on top of him, you study him. “You’re so fucking hot, pretty boy.”

A wide smile spreads over Joel’s face, pumping rosy cheeks, and he throws an arm over his eyes modestly. The reaction is spontaneous, Joel being unprepared for such praise.

“You are!” You giggle, moving his arm and dropping on your elbows to kiss him. One of his hands goes to your hair and he squeezes your hip with the other with eager grip. You rise back up, a line of spit briefly linking you, and your hand trails down over his chest until it comes to his cock, bulging over his stomach. He twitches and breathes out as your hand slides over it and he beholds you above him.

“Fuck,” you purr when you slip him in. Joel strains his arms down to grip your thighs, breathing out a loud moan. “Shit.”

“Goddamn,” he whispers, then says, “come on, baby, take all of it.” You sit down on him slowly, hands landing over his chest, and he brushes his hands up and down your arms. “Thas’ righ’ baby. So good for me.” Joel moves to your hips, pulling them down and in to start to move inside you, forcing himself to be gentle. Your head flips back as you let out a loud, pornographic moan, and Joel can no longer keep himself reigned in. Gripping your hips, he’s now moving them more than you are, one hand gripping your ass, guiding you to angle down, taking more of him.

Riding him like a mustang, your fingers skim over his wrists, unable to grasp them. “Fuck,” You whimper, brow twisted up, eyes closed.

Joel takes his hand off of your ass to grab your face, squishing your cheeks, “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You moan and obey, he keeps your face in his hand to make sure you stay. “Good girl. Stay with me baby.” He grunts and briefly bits his lips as he begins moving his hips up into you, thrusting his cock even deeper inside of you until he’s bumping your cervix again. You squeak and close your eyes, leaning your head back until he jerks your face, reminding you softly, “Eyes on me.” Your hand slaps on his chest as you adjust your posture, though Joel’s grip stabilizes you enough, holding you in place. He releases your cheeks but keeps his hand on your face, letting his palm and fingers brush over the side of your head as you bounce, his thumb on the back of your neck, supporting your head up when you try to let it fall back. “You’re so beautiful. Bet you look so pretty when you cum.”

“My god, Joel,” you pant, “I knew you would fuck me so good, you’re gonna make me cum,”

Joel’s eyes light up and he inadvertently smirks, “Yeah?” Eagerly, he tells you, “I wanna make you cum, baby, I wanna feel you fuckin’ cum. You’re bein’ such a good girl lettin’ me fuck you so hard like this. God, I wanna make you cum,” His hips bump up into you and he tugs on yours in a tempo that buries him as far as he’ll go inside of you. Prizing his view, Joel notices a bulge, coming and going at a suspiciously similar rhythm as how he’s fucking you, and when he realizes that it’s him, heat spreads through his chest and he only fucks you harder. “Oooooh, baby,” he looks back up at you and your chest and face are flushed. “My angel, look at you. Go ahead and cum on my cock, babygirl, I know you’re ready to.”

Your pipe out desperate moans as you bounce on his cock and your hands shoot up, one twisting your hair behind your head the other on your face, smoothing down over your face and mouth down to massage your breast.

“Does that feel good baby?” He almost whines out the question, desperate for praise, for affirmation that he’s being good for you.

“Yes, god, fuck me Joel, I need you, oh my god please,” you cry out.

“You gonna cum for me? Cum on my cock like a good girl?”

You close your mouth, whining through sealed lips, then pop them back open to moan almost unrealistically pornographically, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves it unmistakably genuine.

“Ah, fuck,” Joel lets out loudly as your legs shake and tighten around him, just like your cunt does, and his thrusts are basically out of his control. His mouth falls open and his eyes squeeze shut, almost seeing white, a sweet taste filling his mouth as the euphoric pleasure you provide him trembles to a peak and he groans as he cums in a pussy–drunk frenzy.

As he comes out of it embarrassment starts to run over him at his gusto, but the look on your face calms it—your brow is furrowed up, eyes closed with your mouth slack like his. Your back is arched with your hands resting on his thighs, panting.

You let out a loud breath and flip your body back to look at him, smiling, “Shit.” A breathy laugh shakes out of him and you sit back, still with him inside of you. Then you rise up off of him, “Oh, fuck,” you stand, almost tripping, “I gotta go clean myself up. I’ll be right back.”

Joel basks in the glory of your figure walking away, still fully nude, pattering through your apartment, then disappearing around the corner. He leans back, turning his head to view the sky from the dirty glass door. It’s a picturesque baby blue, dotted with a few puffy white clouds. Fuck the other shoe, if it drops it drops, he just wants to be here right now, with the sun warming his bare chest, nose full of your scent, his lips swollen and dick still wet with your cum. Joel takes a deep breath. Maybe it’s dramatic to say he’d be happy to die here, and it’s not entirely true, but it’s just that he feels content for the first time in fucking years.

When your padding steps sound again, Joel shifts his upper body up, watching you approach, and then you slip into bed, nudging him so that you can lay side by side facing each other. The top sheet is cast lazily over your bodies and a comfortable silence falls over it. Joel tries to memorize the details of your eyes and admires the way his mouth has plumped your lips.

Lying in bed with you here in this cramped apartment feels like a dugout, and he wants to go back in time, to any point over the last ten or so years, to tell himself that this is waiting there for him, just to let himself know that it’s gonna be ok. He can’t believe he’s still in Boston.

“Can we stay here for a while?” He asks you.

You nod, “We still have all day, pretty boy.” Joel smiles and you move to kiss him, long and light. He hooks your lip in his mouth, asking you nearer, and, without breaking the kiss, you lift yourself up, only your chest off of the bed, supporting your body up with your elbow. To hover over him, you reach your hand over to plant next to his head. Joel’s hands slither up your face to the back of your head, assuring your connection. All he wants is your lips.

“Baby,” He whispers, his voice high.

“Hm?”

“Nothin’. I dunno.”

You smile, peck another gentle kiss, and then lay back beside him. You shift closer to each other and your legs tangle.

After a couple of still moments, you take a deep breath and address him, worry in your voice, “Joel…”

“What is it?” His brow pinches in concern.

“I’m just worried… maybe I should have waited.” You say quietly, brow slightly furrowed as you gaze into his eyes, raising a loose fist to your lips.

He pushes his hand out to brush the back of his finger over your wrist, “Why’s that?”

You pause. “Cause… I don’t want… I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to have… you know, a one night stand. I mean, for this to be a one time thing and then I never see you again.”

Joel’s brow furrows as he assures you, “Me neither, no, no baby, I wanna see you again. I want you to stay. I wanna stay. I wanna know you.”

You uncover your mouth to smile and your eyes twinkle, “You want to know me?”

“Wull… yeah.”

“That’s such a nice thing to say.”

“I mean it.”

“Well, I wanna know you, too.”

Joel’s contentedness pauses. He didn’t think about that part and he’s not sure if he wants you to know him. Yes, desperately, god yes he does, but, no, his soul is covered in soot. You shouldn't, he doesn’t want you to see him, know him, because he’s bad.

“What’s that face?” You ask.

“What face?”

“That face you just made. You don’t want me to know you?”

How did you read him like that? He’s not sure which side he should take with this so he says nothing.

You sigh and blink, then place your hand on his cheek, stroking it with your thumb once. It’s warm and solid against his skin and flowers bloom in his chest.

“If I’m gonna let you know me, you gotta let me know you. That’s the deal. I think we’re pretty similar, Joel.” You take another deep breath, “I haven’t had someone in this bed with me in a long time. I haven’t touched someone like this in… forever. I don’t like to let people get this close. I’m letting you get close, though. Because I really, really want to. But part of me really, really, doesn’t. For some reason, I trust you. I hate saying that. But I just do. I really like you, Joel. Maybe you’re gonna break my heart. I decided that that’s ok. I just really want to know you.” Your hand slides down to his neck, over his shoulder, then down to the middle of his sternum. “So, that’s the deal. If I’m gonna let you in, you gotta let me in.”

Joel isn’t sure why there are tears wetting his eyes. He wasn’t ready to be spoken to like this, to be cared about. The longing to hear words like these has long been buried and he never expected any of that to be fulfilled. He blinks the tears back, swallows hard, and murmurs a tender “Ok.”

Your hand slides back up to caress his cheek. The affection in it floods him and he melts into the bed, eyes falling closed. When he opens them again, it’s like this is all there is; he can’t see anything else except for you, and those pink sheets, and the light behind you coming through the window.

He can’t help this feeling of safety with you. He smiles. You smile back.

You can’t make Boston any better, but now, Joel is taking his first clean breath of air, and it smells like you. The world is ugly, but love makes it bearable. And now you’re here, and he’ll wait to tell you, but he figured it out, he’s sure he loves you.

…Metaphors and sex, sex and metaphors.

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sexycornenthusiast · 9 months ago

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Gretchen Weiners headcanons because I'm normal about her:

Not straight not gay but a secret third thing (exclusively attracted to people who have made her cry)

Astrology bitch who memorized everyone's birth charts (she's a cancer)

Has two much older siblings who basically ignore her existence

Undiagnosed ADHD because I have ADHD and I said so (you'd be surprised how common crippling anxiety disorders are for us)

Very easily overwhelmed by any amount of pressure ever

Doesn't tell jokes. Deeply genuine person

Definitely a crier. Sad? Tears. Happy? Tears. Afraid? Tears. Stressed out? Tears. Angry? Take a guess

Extremely self-conscious pretty much all the time

Super into trashy TV dramas. She bonds with Damian over this post-canon and they'll randomly go on unhinged rants to each other about shows they're watching

Joins a book club at some point in senior year. Her regular friends are not allowed to know about her library friends

Shit-talkers say that she's the way she is bc she didn't get enough attention as a child. They're right.

#mean girls musical #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls headcanons #gretchen wieners

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jastopher-iii · 25 days ago

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Everyone this is Vegas AKA Vegi

She is a 2 year old tuxedo

she used to be very vocal but now not so much

she loves food and cuddles

fun fact she was a rescue and we first thought she was a girl, she was a boy, but i still call her a girl.

this pixelated mess is Reno. AKA Weiner (It's literally 1 AM (scheduled this post for noon) and I though I had a better picture of him but I dont and I cant go find him to take another one.)

he is a 2 year old tuxedo

he was 2 days old when we rescued him from a friends farm and we did not think he'd survive

he was abandoned by his mom and is Vegas's brother. vegas was abandoned a month later by the same mother.

He is very smol despite his age

he loves to play and scream

fun fact we first thought he was a boy but turns out he was a girl but i still call him a boy

This is Stella (Yes I know, what an original name)

She is a 2 year old calico.

She was rescued at the same time as Reno but was of normal adopting age when we rescued her.

she barely meows and prefers to use violence to get your attention.

she loves pets and scratching you.

Fun fact for some reason she doesn't particularly like Reno and will randomly pick fights.

And finally this CHONK is Catman

He is an Idk how old Tuxedo?Black cat?

He is CHONK as you can tell and he love to eat and cuddle, even more than Vegas does.

He is very cute and very CHONK.

He was found at the dump by our neighbors which shows that he was feral and probably very hungry, which I guess makes sense given he is now CHONK.

Fun fact He used to have a distinct Batman looking symbol on his belly which is why he was called Catmam

#cat #cats of tumblr #cats #cute cats #funny cats #chonky #chonk #chonk cat #he chonk #big chonk #tuxedo cat #calico cat #black cat #my cats #Stella #Catman #Reno #Vegas

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t0bey · 11 months ago

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You should have seen how pressed cns players got after they saw coa victor having a weener dog in his concept art

I literally got into so many arguments about this, for some reason they consider Eli's and Ann's companions objectively lesser and there for they are allowed to change while Wick can't. I've never gor an explanation as to why, they just get more mad when i ask???

ill admit i initially preferred wick's normal face over the pom bc i just think its more visually interesting but ppl even having beef with the weiner dog that didn't even make it to the final concept is crazy

#ask #anon #also theyre not even stopping at wick so many ppl on weibo want victor's entire skin to be redesigned SAVE HIM FROM THIS.

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blitzsicedcoffee · 3 months ago

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Don't have energy for full fic writing so have some incorrect HB text posts I made

Blitz: Wanna go get some coffee?

Stolas: *opens portal and grabs coffee for them from bartender* :)

Blitz: can you do one thing normally?

Stolas: :(

-------------------------------------------------

Moxxie: Sir, is it going okay with the prince?

Blitz: WAAAAAAAA why would you ask that?! *leans on desk and falls over* Who said you could ask your boss about his personal life????

Millie: You just struggled to spell the ABC's with your tongue, Blitz.

-----------------------------------------------------

Dream Stolas: You are inadequate. I could never love you.

Blitz: Thank you...for confirming my bias, I will internalize this forever.

---------------------------------------------------------

Blitz: *banging on palace door*

Better Than Blitzo Guy: *Answers* oh, it's you. Still a piece of shit?

Blitz: Still got a tiny weiner? Where's Stolas!

BTB Guy: *rolls eyes* sleeping.

Blitz: *pushes BTB guy over* STOLLASSSS YOUR BOYTOY HIT MEEEE.

#helluva boss #blitzø #stolitz #helluva boss blitzo #stolas #blitz #helluva boss stolas #helluva stolitz #helluva boss stolitz #Helluva boss incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #helluva boss text posts #helluva boss memes

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 1 year ago

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Some personal headcanons of the Twisted Wonderland beta Designs:

Heartslabyul:

Beta-Riddle:

As mentioned, I get the vibe he's a bit bratty and too arrogant or spoiled, wither it's his birth or how his dorm treats him I dunno

Gives me sassy vibes

He gives me vibes of SIX's song "Get Down"

I have zero idea but the idea of shipping him and Beta Azul is cute

Like picture Fizz as Beta Riddle and Ozzy as Beta Azul doing normal morning schedules, cuddling and joking, and if Beta Riddle got hurt Beta Azul would be a worry wert/true mafia boss if the mafia vibes are canon (I also see him originally a lot more like Ursula)

Video editing by me btw

Everyone in his dorm loves him in different ways as I lowkey see our Riddle being kind of more based off Tim Burton's Alice In Wonderland with his main core of why he's focus is cause he wants to be loved

Beta Ace:

More or less the same but the vibe I get from him is more a performer like a Disney employee.

You know how in that past I said this song was playing while writing the post? Well I can see him doing this whole thing of the scene during an assembly for shits and giggles

youtube

sorry i reference this movie twice, it's a good movie-

He's the one who will most likely be the next dorm leader after Beta Riddle

Beta Deuce:

Dere-dere

Super serious

Would be offended with our Deuce lol

Most likely look good when his hair is down

Beta Trey:

More or less the same as now's canon

I get the vibe he's like the Twst's universe's version of the Queen's knave

Beta Cater:

Again, more or less the same as canon Cater

I get the vibe he was Riddle's childhood bestie than Trey

Savanaclaw:

Beta Leona:

Though this SUPER BLURRY pic I get the vibe he's way more arrogant than what we got now

Has way more Scar's sass we were blessed with in the movie

Why do I get the vibe he and the Beta Savanaclaw were in a open relationship???

Beta Ruggie:

That one annoying kid who anime moans in the back of the classroom

The itty bitty bean

Probably more eager to follow Leona than the actual duo in canon

Beta Jack:

GIVES ME DIFFERENT VIBES THAN HIS TSUNDERE SELD WE HAVE NOW

Will pick up people without warning or question

Drinks those weird smoothy drinks from the grocery stores with kale and garlic and shit for athletic stuff

Octavinelle:

Beta Azul:

More or less the same just more Ursula???

Openly calls the Tweels his "poopsies"

Spends way too much money on stupid shit he doesn't need or want

Has way more people in his dept

Sings a lot in his lounge or casino or whatever, most this song

Beta Jade and Floyd:

The same person but one's left and the other's right

Silently but scary

Think my Ray twins OCs

Scarabia:

Beta Kalim:

Most like Aladdin

Maybe him and Jamil didn't know each other before NRC and rivaled until Kalim lied about being a prince and wins Dorm Head

Has the best parkcore skills

Sweet bean deep down

Has a weakness to shiny things

Beta Jamil:

Maybe was actually Dorm Leader instead of Kalim???

Was more sassy as Jafar

Has a Iago type of henchmen somewhere

Totally has sexual frustrations to Kalim like "Stupid sexy Kalim and his stupid handsome face-"

Pomfiore:

Beta Vil:

SUPER ARRAGANT

Looks like he'd say schedule as "sheddjual"

Also gives me SIX's Get Down vibes

Will throw his wine glass at you if you offend him somehow

Too glued to the mirror

Beta Rook:

Based off the Magic Mirror in my opinion

Somehow even more arrant than Vil

Will be very toxic if he wants to be

A lot like Gretchen Weiners from Mean Girls towards Vil

Beta Epel:

Either a girl or crossdresser

A literal tease who starts romance drama but flirting and crying after like "He's picking on me and being weird"

I kind of think this one would have a lip gloss that is addictive to those who taste it from her kiss

Ignyhide:

Beta Idia:

I was informed by @bestmannequin2018 and @porcelain-animatronic kindly in my original post, it seems this is Beta Idia and he's the youngest of the whole cast who skipped many grades cause of his big smart brain

I feel like he's more cocky than our Idia

Has super bad anger issues

Diamonia:

Beta Malleus:

Sexy sexy cocky arrant man

Very childish especially when he loses

Gets really petty real fast

Is very scary when mad

Looks scary but everyone in his dorm knows he's a cry baby

Beta Lilia:

Super childish

Is literally more daddy than our Lilia somehow

I think he was meant to be the raven in Maleficent

Beta Silver/Beta Sebek:

I only do them together cause I really can't tell who's who

Very different than they are now

I think Silver is thorns

Sebek is still thunder

I would be shocked if they are all cis and straight

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 7 months ago

Note

UT sans

Since today is Sanses birthday (April 1st, confirmed by Toby), Sanses Friend gets him a gift. A normal weiner dog named Ketchup and weiner dog mixed with a golden retriever named Mustard. Yes, Friend did discuss it with Papyrus first to make sure it was okay and the little puppies could be taken care of properly. Preferably takes place after they escape the underground.

He's so excited!

He loves dogs, he loves condiments, and that's literally a sausage dog wearing condiment names. He's going to pun all night long and the next 15 years.

Sans is a big dog person and that's quite literally the first thing he did Underground when he got a house: adopt a dog. He's a proud dog parent right now and he's going to spoil rotten his baby with toys, clothes, and everything.

#undertale #sans #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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girlw-amermaidtattoo · 15 days ago

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Other Ways to Jerk Off

Now that we've covered the basics, let's talk about how you can level-up your masturbation game. There are so many fun ways to jerk off that the possibilities are endless.

Here's how to jerk off with extra pizzaz!

Use Some Lube

Lubricant? More like “Lubri-Can!”

Using some quality lube like the ones in the Kinkly Shop, body-safe lubes in your home like coconut oil, or even saliva can enhance sensation while reducing the amount of friction.

Play With Your Toys

If you want to know how to jerk off and make it a show-stopping experience, get some toys involved!

Penis-centric male masturbation toys can bring a lot to the party, adding sensations like tightness, exciting textures, and goooooood vibrations.

Masturbation sleeves, like the popular Fleshlight, act as a simulated vagina or anus (depending on the model) for you to stroke or hump away at. Just be sure to follow the instructions so you know how to jerk off properly and not ruin your toy. Be sure to use the recommended type of lube and clean the toy thoroughly when you’re done jacking off. Cock rings can also be fun. These are normally used to last longer, which is great if you want a long and luxurious bit of “me time”. This works by slightly restricting the bloodflow in your penis to keep it harder for longer. That being said, it’s best to not keep the ring on for more than 90 minutes to two hours to avoid damage to your weiner.

Did I mention many cock rings vibrate? Yeah, no explanation needed there.

For those who are open to anal fun, prostate massagers can take you from “how to jerk off” to “how did I ever not jerk off like this?!” real quick. The prostate is like the infamous G-spot, but for AMAB folks. Using prostate massagers can give you those full-body, back-cracking, eye-rolling O’s you’ve been craving.

Edging

Edging is jacking off but delaying the orgasm. You bring yourself to the brink, then back off a bit. How long you want to hold back is up to you, but the build up can lead to one hell of a finish.

Edging has also been shown to be an effective male masturbation method for lasting longer with a partner. So, give it a try and live on the edge!

The Bottom Line

Now you know how to jerk off. If you already knew, now you know how to jerk off better. It can feel like there is a lot of shame and stigma around penile pleasure and male masturbation, but tell that nonsense to kick rocks! You should explore your body and what makes you feel good.

Masturbation is healthy, natural, and fun! Experiment with what you like, whether that’s with lube, using toys, or just giving yourself a good ol’ fashioned handy.

Remember, the best way to jack off is the best way to jack off for you!

#beta #beta virgin #beautiful words #censored for betas #beta sub #beta sissy #beta slave #beta boi #beta husband #betsy braddock #feetfinder #footgoddess #caged foot slave #girlblogging #foot #footwear #bare foot #dark academia

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couchcandy · 1 year ago

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Psych x Community ??

I love psych and i love community so this vague concept of them existing in the same universe has been floating around in my head.

The key connecting factor being the references to Shawn/Britta’s similarly eclectic off-screen pasts. They're close in age so I'm like okay - it would totally be possible for them to have known eachother/dated/whatever at some point before.

psych aired from 2006 - 2014; Shawn born 1977

community aired from 2009 -2014; Britta born 1980

(Take these two quotes just as an example but it's referenced casually throughout both shows)

Britta’s Dad: I mean, every time we get too close, you run off. We sent you a birthday card to your apartment in New York, and the next week you’re setting fire to a Jamba Juice in San Jose.

Britta: How long is that gonna stick with me?

Britta’s Mom: Until arson is legal, sweetie.

Gus: Shawn, you’ve had fifty-seven jobs since we left high school.

Shawn: Yes I have. And they were all fun. But this one takes the cake.

Gus: Oh yeah? Better than the acupuncture clinic?

Shawn: I didn’t realize experience was necessary.

Gus: What about the summer you spent driving the weiner mobile?

Shawn: I did that for the hot dogs.

I think they fit somewhere in the ballpark of each other's types, both sluts(affectionate) and it makes sense for them to have crossed paths at some point during Britta's “anhercists” days.

So that establishes a link between the groups, but what would it be like if they interacted? Take the arbitrary scenario; Shawn and Gus have gotten themselves and by extension the SBPD into another whacky shenanigan somehow who cares how i'm not writing this

I imagine initially everyone in the study group has a more or less positive impression of Shawn because he's charming, (with the notable exception of…you got it! Jeff)

JEFF

In typical jeff fashion is immediately threatened by Shawn because he has to be the coolestmostlikeabledude™ in the room at all times while simultaneously has to act like he doesn't care so he's quietly seething and - hey what's this new dude doing here making all my friends laugh that's my job! i must now make it my life's mission to prove this guys a fraud and reclaim my status no matter how much a fool i make of myself in the process (a la: advanced documentary filmmaking)

BRITTA

Normal standard “hey old friend” situation, remember when we *insane thing involving multiple felonies and property destruction* haha anyway let me introduce you to my friends -

ANNIE

immediate skepticism that Shawn is able to sidestep pretty quickly by being charming/flirty (NOT in a gross way *hisses at the jeffannie shippers*) Her reaction being like when the dean “swaps bodies with jeff” or after abed’s don draper impression.

ABED

Knows Shawn isn't really psychic but goes along with it/doesn’t point out that Shawn’s hyper observant because he's invested in watching the psychic/cop show formula play out. He would! and I would too!

(quote from 5x03 Basic Intergluteal Numismatics):

Abed Nadir: [Pretending to read the crime scenes as a psychic] I see a man... using a social disorder as a procedural device. Wait, wait, wait, I see another man. Mildly autistic super detectives everywhere.

TROY

Obligatory: “you’re wrinkling my brain right now” and just general fascination, awe, and wonderment. Asks Shawn to tell him his future

SHIRLEY

Immediate judgment on Shawn's practices not being christian enough for her standards, but easily swayed to liking him once he picks up on something and comments on her ex husband being an idiot to lose her or something

PEIRCE

Does his peirce thing and tries to seem impressive and fails, something level five laser lotus blah blah - u get it thats enough on him

THE DEAN

Is facilitating the psych crew being there because it might bring in good press for greendale and he def does the hand on shoulder thing when he meets him you know the one - omg and totally is into Lassiter furrowed brows “im packing heat” Carlton, please. – lassie is Not Amused™

CHANG

This depends on what point in community canon this interaction takes place because season 1 chang would prob be normal(for him), but like season 5 Chang would do/say something so insane and so chang that i can't even come up with it

As for our psych guys, Gus points out how weird and fucked up and bizarre Greendale is meanwhile Shawn is LIVING for it - signs them up for the Dean’s PA announcements class, and “Gus! buddy! I hope you don't mind. I used your credit card to sign us up for The History of Ice Cream. Come on, it starts in 20 minutes ! :D” Gus: “Shawn! >:0”

Lassie would just nonstop point out all the health and safety violations- he doesn't want to be here- calls a lot of people hippies, generally grumpy demeanor and we love him for it.

Starburns terribly hits on Jules - gets rejected, proceeds to try and sell her drugs - gets arrested.

#community tv #psych tv #community x psych crossover #community nbc #psych usa #shawn spencer #burton gus guster #britta perry #the study group #crossover #community show #insane ramblings of a tv obsessed loser #if i had any ability to write entertaining comedic fiction i would #shawn solves the mystery and saves the day #he finds russell borchert years before Basic Sandwich

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anglophiletraveler · 6 months ago

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And Baby Makes...Eight?

******************

This little fic was written for the Deano Bingo, unfortunately, I didn’t get it done by the end of April, but I’m putting it out there anyway. For clarification, I refer to Mitchell in this story most of the time as John, because Anders calls him John, but the rest of the family still call him Mitchell. I hope you like this little fic that turned out way longer than I first anticipated it would be, and has not been seen by a beta.

******************

The scene looked like it was something from a Lucille Ball movie - a waiting room in a maternity ward of a nondescript hospital with the typical baby colours and decorations and signs giving advice to new parents. Various chairs are arranged along the walls of the room with white cubes in the middle of the room holding various magazines such as ‘Parent Life,’ ‘First Time Parents,’ ‘Working Mother,’ ‘Autism Parenting,’ and ‘Green Parenting’. Along one wall was a large coffee maker to assist in those long nights of labour.

On this particular day, the waiting room started out quiet and empty. The nursing staff was enjoying a slow day. But soon the Johnson family would be descending upon the room like a battalion storming the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. There were going to be various uncles pacing the waiting room like the expectant fathers they weren’t.

Ty and Dawn had waited to start a family until the Norse gods had ascended from their human vessels, leaving them behind to lead normal human lives, whatever that may be. To Mitchell’s surprise, Bragi had granted Anders' wish of John becoming a mortal once again. The former vampire could now see his reflection in mirrors, and his eyes no longer turned black and he could now have a normal toothache without fangs! So the Kiwi and the Irishman had taken the plunge and married in a nice civil ceremony at the courthouse. After John had graduated from nursing school and was now working as an RN at the hospital, the couple had finally left Anders’s bachelor flat and bought a home with a large back garden where their two rescue dogs ran around. They weren’t sure of their breeds but the small grey one looked like the combination of a weiner dog and a poodle, so of course they named him Tank, and the larger brown and black dog could have been a mix between a great dane and a labrador retriever. So his name had to be Tiny.

Throughout Dawn’s pregnancy, Anders always put on the cocky front that this was going to be an ugly baby just like the billion other babies out in the world. But of course when nobody was watching, he doted on Dawn in the office whenever he could. He often made her recline on the sofa and put her feet up on pillows.

John was thrilled about Dawn’s pregnancy. He had always wanted to be a father, but his previous circumstance of being a vampire had snuffed out that dream. For the most part, Anders had gone along with John’s constant talk about babies, but occasionally felt he had to reign John in a wee bit. He really didn’t want to hear about his sister-in-law’s birth canal and the stages that it went through, sore nipples, nor did he care to hear about something called a placenta. John started reading baby books and whenever he found something that he thought Ty and Dawn should know, he immediately called them or went over to their home to tell them about it. It really was quite sweet, and secretly Dawn enjoyed all of the attention. Ty hadn’t minded it until the day after Mitchell had read the chapter on breastfeeding. It was on that day that Anders and Mitchell had actually showed up at their house with multiple nursing bras, nursing nightgowns, a breast pump and various essentials including breast pump wipes, hot and cold breast pads, nipple shields, and of course nipple cream. At first Ty thought they had brought all of this over as a joke, until Dawn pulled him aside and explained to him that it was done out of love.

So it was no surprise that Anders and John had been the first uncles to show up at the waiting room after Ty called them at 8 o’clock in the evening with the news that Dawn was having contractions and they were on their way! The couple had tried to wait at home for news from Ty, but after they had both bitten off all their fingernails, they grabbed the hospital bag that they had packed for themselves (uncles need their own hospital bag?) and headed to the hospital. Once they had arrived at the waiting room, they had set up camp in the corner of the waiting room closest to the coffee maker. For a while they kept their wits about them, watching the staff go about their duties. Every once in a while a nurse that John knew, would stop and chat with him.

One nurse that John had gotten to know from his clinicals in the labour and delivery unit tried to talk him into coming to work for the labour and delivery department, “John, I was really surprised that you didn’t try for a position here. You were such a natural during your clinicals, and worked really well with the moms.” Anders watched John closely when she mentioned this.

John shook his head, “Aw, Julie you’re sweet. Have you met my husband Anders? Anders this is Julie, she’s the charge nurse for labour and delivery.” Julie and Anders exchanged pleasantries. Anders was impressed that this nurse was so impressed by John’s skills and spoke so highly of him. He hadn’t met very many of John’s coworkers so he enjoyed this exchange. John had his trademark smile on his face, “I did enjoy working here, but I think that it would be really hard working here and not being able to have one of my own.”

“I get it. Well you and Anders could always hire a surrogate or adopt! Where there’s a will there’s a way! Well, I better get going. It was nice seeing you again.”

Anders noticed the large sigh that John let out as Julie walked away, and the smile disappeared. “Um, I’ll be right back, going to the loo,” Mitchell mumbled as he left Anders behind. It broke Anders’ heart a little to see John's gorgeous smile disappear. He knew how much he wanted children. Anders had always discouraged the idea because he knew he would be a shit dad. As much as they loved their dogs, sometimes it didn’t seem like quite enough for John.

*******************

At one point Ty took a break from the birthing room and came out for a cup of coffee and some reassurance from his brother and brother-in-law.

Anders noticed that his brother looked worn out, “Ty, are you alright? Would you like one of us to go in with Dawn for a while?”

Mitchell and Ty both looked shocked at what Anders was offering.

“I appreciate that Anders, but I don’t think you realise what goes on in that room. And I don’t know if Dawn would want you in there, no offence.”

“None taken. Well, if you change your mind, the offer still stands.”

Mitchell was interested in how the new mother was doing, “So Ty, how’s Dawn doing? How far is she dilated?”

Ty sighed, “She’s tired, but she’s doing really well. I’m so amazed by her strength. She’s still dilated at six, so hopefully she starts progressing soon.”

Mitchell was shaking his head in agreement, “She will mate, don’t worry. Don’t forget that since this is her first bairn, the labour can take longer.”

Ty finished his coffee, “I’ll keep that in mind. I better get back in there. Thanks for being here guys.”

Anders and John got up to give Ty a big hug. With tears in his eyes, Anders clasped Ty’s face, “We’re here for you baby brother.”

After Ty left the waiting room, Mitchell looked at Anders, “You know, I’m totally shocked that you offered to go into the birthing room to help Dawn out. I’m actually pretty impressed, Anders.”

“Nah, I care about Dawn. I’ve seen her at her worst, and she’s seen me at mine. What’s a few contractions between friends? People forget that I’ve known Dawn longer than Ty has.”

Mitchell smiled at Anders and gave him a quick kiss.

****************

Later on, Mike, Michelle and Axl carrying an extremely large teddy bear, came strolling in at just about the time Dawn’s screams went up a decibel or two.

Axl was standing around with his hands in his pockets while the rest of the Johnsons were chatting. Finally he asks, “Who is that screaming?” They all stop talking and turn around and look at Axl in disbelief and yell, “Dawn!”

Axl came to the realization, “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s Dawn screaming? Holy shit!”

“Axl! If you get us kicked out of here, I’m going to shove that bear up your arse!” Anders threatened his brother. John put his hand on Anders’s shoulder to try to calm him down, “C’mon love, lets go sit down.” The other three followed suit and sat down.

Mike looked at his watch, “So Anders, how long has Dawn been screaming like that?”

Anders looked at John, “I don’t know, what do you think John? About a half hour?”

“Yeah, her contractions have really started getting closer and harder. I’m sure that Ty’s losing the feeling in his hands by now,” John replied.

“Better him than me!” Michelle was her typical supportive self.

Axl was holding the teddy bear looking pale, “I thought that was only in the movies that women screamed like that when having babies.”

Mitchell smiled at his young brother-in-law, “Every mum is different, Axl. And it also depends on if it’s the mum’s first bairn or not.”

Axl nodded his head like he understood what Mitchell just said.

There were the typical overhead pages for a hospital going off. Mitchell and Michelle listened to them instinctually but didn’t react to them since they weren’t working. At one point there was a Code Blue called that raised Mitchell’s attention. Anders looked at Mitchell, “Isn’t that where you work, babe?” Mitchell nodded his head, “Yep, sure is. I don’t know who it would be though, there wasn’t a patient in that bed yesterday when I worked.”

“Well, do we know if this new Johnson is a boy or a girl?” Michelle asked.

Anders chuckled at Michelle’s coldness when asking about the baby, “No we don’t know. Ty and Dawn decided not to tell anyone the sex of the baby. Michelle, weren’t you there at the baby shower?”

“God no. I can’t stand those things and all of those stupid games they play. And then some mother starts talking about how long her contractions were when they were in labour and where she was when her waters broke.”

Some more screaming came from the birthing room, which made Michelle clinch her legs together.

Axl stood up all of a sudden, “Oh shit, more screaming!”

Michelle stood up now, “Of course she’s screaming Axl, she’s pushing a watermelon through her vagina!”

Anders huffed at Michelle, “Well Michelle, nobody can accuse you of being overly maternal.”

Mike stood up and steered Axl away from Michelle, “Why don’t you just have a seat Axl, this could take a long time.”

The main doors to the unit opened and everyone looked to see who it was. It turned out to be someone from environmental services riding the floor cleaner that looked like a little zamboni.

“Jeezus, the fumes that thing leaves behind is almost as bad as a real zamboni,” Mike observed.

John looked at his watch and got up and made more coffee for everyone since it seemed like it could be a long night ahead. He was starting to feel a little nervous on the inside but he didn’t let anyone else know how he was feeling. It had been five hours since he and Anders had arrived at the hospital, and another six or seven hours that Dawn had contractions while at home, and while 10-12 hours wasn’t a horribly long time for labour, it was enough that it was making him nervous. The nurse in him wished that he was in the birthing room and knew how dilated Dawn was and what the baby’s heart rate was. He found himself staring out a window at the dark night and the street lights lighting the way for those drivers who happened to be out at this time of night. He heard a voice beside him, “She’s going to be fine.” John turned his head to find Michelle standing next to him. “Sometimes being a nurse or a doctor is harder when you know what can go wrong in a situation. But she’ll be fine,” John was surprised by Michelle’s soothing voice.

He let out a big sigh, “Yeah, I just wish that I was in there and knew what was going on. I don’t like being on this side of the waiting room.” John turned around and noticed that Mike and Anders were pacing, and Axl was pouting in the corner holding on to the large bear with a face like a little boy. The scene made Mitchell smile.

The double doors to the birthing rooms opened causing everyone to turn and see Ty come through wearing scrubs. He sat down exhausted rubbing his face with his hands, “The nurses are changing Dawn’s bed so I came out here for a break.”

Everyone spoke at once asking for the latest news on Baby Johnson. Ty raised his hands to get them to quiet down, “The nurses say they don’t think it will be much longer, maybe another hour or so. I feel so bad for her. She’s getting tired. I wish that I could take the pain away from her.”

John sat down next to Ty and put his hand on his shoulder, “Aw, it’ll be over soon, mate. Just keep rubbin’ her back for her.”

“I feel so helpless, like I’m not doing enough for her…”

Michelle interjected, “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can Ty. Mitchell’s right, just keep rubbing her back. Fall back on what you learned in the birthing classes.”

One of the ward nurses came back out to get Ty, so he went back in with Dawn.

Michelle’s personality changed as soon as he walked out of the room. She turned and looked at Mike, “Don’t ever think of getting me pregnant!” Mike’s eyes got big as saucers and raised his hands to let her pass through.

**********************

Two pots of coffee and two hours later, the Johnson brigade was back to pacing in the waiting room, although Axl had managed to fall asleep in his chair still holding the gargantuan teddy bear. Throughout the night the brothers had managed to move the teddy bear in different poses and took several pictures of Axl holding it!

Mitchell suddenly noticed the nurses in the nursing station got busier and left the station to go back towards the birthing rooms. Then the scream from Dawn got lower. John turned to look at Michelle but she was already looking at him.

Then there was silence and everyone stopped in their tracks.

Then there was a tiny cry! Everyone let out a sigh of relief and laughter. One of the nurses that Mitchell knew came back out quickly and gave a thumbs up to the family and went back in. That was a huge relief to everyone, in particular to John. Anders looked for his husband and finally found him sitting on a chair with his face in his hands crying. Anders kneeled in front of him and put his hands on John’s, “Hey Babe, it’s okay. It’s over… Love?” He moved to sit in the chair next to him and started running his hand through John’s hair to try and comfort him. Anders let John take a moment to get himself together. When John dried his eyes he raised his head and Anders gave him a big hug and kiss. He placed his hands on Mitchell’s face, “I’ve been watching you all night. You’ve been worried about Dawn this whole time, haven’t ya?”

John had a few tears roll down his face and nodded his head, “Yes, I have to admit it. I’ve been worried off and on. I’ve been going nutter not being in there to make sure Dawn was alright.” Anders gave John another hug.

“What the hell is going on?” Axl’s voice coming from the corner. Everyone looked at him and laughed.

***********************

As soon as Dawn was cleaned up and moved to her room, and all of the measurements of the newborn were done, four uncles, one aunt and one bear were gowned and allowed to go meet the newest Johnson. The door slowly opened and three heads stuck through the door to find a pink cheeked Dawn sitting up in bed holding a bundle of joy with Ty standing next to her with the biggest smile anyone has ever seen on his face!

A smiling Ty waved everyone in, “Come on in, come in!” And they all pushed through, including the giant bear.

Dawn was laughing at all of the family, and everyone was asking “What is it! Is it a boy or a girl”

Dawn couldn’t stop smiling, “Look what we made! This is Miss Johnson!”

Everyone was oohing and aahing at finally having a baby girl in the family to spoil! Even Mike was smiling at the baby.

“Dawn, you look amazing! How do you feel?” Michelle asked the new mother.

“I feel great! Kind of numb, but very happy! Mike, would you like to hold her first?” Dawn asked the eldest brother.

Mike looked shocked, “Me! Why me?”

Anders laughed at his brother, “Because you’re the old man, bro!”

Ty gingerly handed the baby to Mike, “It’s been a long time since anyone in this family has held a baby.” Mike started cooing at her and looking at her tiny hand. “She’s so tiny! Aren’t you a beauty! You like your mum, thank goodness!” Everyone chuckled at that. Mike looked up at Axl, “Axl do you want to hold her?”

Axl looked pensive at the thought and rubbed his hands on his pants. He looked at Dawn, “I don’t know how, I don’t want to drop her.”

Ty looked at his baby brother, “Go ahead Axl, you’ll be fine.” Mike carefully handed her to Axl and showed him how to support her head. Axl got a grin on his face and just stared at her for a moment, and then she fussed a bit, “Here you better take her back Mike.”

“Hang on you egg, it’s my turn,” Anders walked over to Axl and took the baby from him like an old pro. “I used to hold you when you were this young Axl. Look at you gorgeous! Look at that beautiful blonde hair just like your favourite uncle’s. You are certainly a beauty, and we are going to beat off any man that looks at you twice.”

Mitchell stood behind Anders with his hands on his arms while he held their new niece. He had tears in his eyes watching Anders hold their new niece. He was definitely a natural at it. Anders looked up at Michell, “Are you crying again? You are such a sap!”

Mitchell shrugged his shoulders, “I can’t help it! I love babies, especially this one. Here, hand her over to me now.” Mitchell took her from Anders. Instead of holding her in his arms like everyone else did, he held her up close to his shoulder so he could smell her. “I love that new baby smell. Dawn and Ty looked at each other briefly and then smiled at Mitchell. He lowered her to his arms so that he could stare at her some more.

Michelle spoke up, “So you never said…what did you name her?”

“Well, it was a hard decision. We couldn’t agree on a name that we both liked,” Dawn said.

“So then we thought of family names…” Ty said with an unsure voice.

Mike cringed, “Oh don’t tell me that you named her Agnetha.”

Dawn was still smiling, “No of course not. Well none of us have mothers that we loved enough that we would want to name her after except… Mitchell!” Mitchell was still in awe of the baby and didn’t catch on to what was being said around him. “Mitchell loved his mother very much, so we named her Mary Elizabeth.” Finally Mitchell heard something to make him pay attention, “What? You named her after… my mum?!”

Dawn looked at Mitchell a little more seriously, “Is that alright? I know we didn’t ask you. If you don’t want us to, we can always change it.”

Anders was watching the shocked look on John’s face, “Oh fuck he’s going to start crying again!”

“I can’t believe that you… what an honour. Thank you so much! That means the world to me!” Mitchell leaned down to kiss Mary Elizabeth on the head. Anders wrapped an arm around John’s waist and leaned in to his husband, and smiled.

Anders cleared his throat and looked at the new parents, “That’s really lovely. Thank you.”

The door opened and a nurse stepped in the room, “Alright everyone. It’s late and this new mum and babe need their rest. You can visit them tomorrow.”

Mike spoke up, “Alright guys, you all heard the lovely lady, time to go. Congratulations Ty and Dawn, you have a beautiful daughter.” They all said their goodbyes to the baby still in Mitchell’s arms on their way out the door. Anders and John were still standing, staring at Mary Elizabeth.

“Babe, I think it’s time to go,” Anders patted John on the shoulder.

“I guess,” John walked over to give the baby back to Dawn, “Here ya go all safe and sound. Thank you so much for naming her for my mum. It’s really special for me.”

“You’re welcome, Mitchell,” Dawn said.

**********************

Anders and John shuffled into their house dead tired. It had been a long night at the hospital and they were just ready to go to bed but Tank and Tiny came running over to greet their parents with a high pitch, yappy bark and a deep ferocious bark. If one didn’t really know Tiny’s personality, you would think he was going to swallow you whole, but he was just a teddy bear.

"Oh fuck I forgot about you two,” Mitchell’s voice was tired and a little hoarse. “Come on you two wankers, I’ll let you outside.” This was one of the times that he was very grateful that the back garden was fenced in and all they had to do was open the back door to let the beasts out.

Anders had already started to strip, “John do you want anything to drink or eat?”

John sat at the kitchen table waiting for the dogs to come back inside, “Something cold. Do we have any bottled water in the icebox?”

Anders smiled at John calling it an icebox, a reference to his childhood days in Ireland. He opened the fridge door, “Uh yes, yes we do. You want that?”

“Yes please. I can’t believe how exhausted I am. I’m more tired than if I had worked a normal 12 hour shift,” John saw that the dogs were just playing around now so he whistled for them to come inside. He followed Anders’s lead and started taking his clothes off. He chugged one bottle of water down right away and grabbed another to take upstairs.

Anders wrapped his arm around John’s naked waist and kissed his neck, “C’mon babe, let’s go to bed.” He locked the back door and turned off the kitchen light and pulled John to go upstairs with him, the dogs following right behind them.

Tank and Tiny jumped up on the king-size bed and took their place waiting for their masters. Anders had tried to train them to not sleep on the bed, but eventually gave up when he caught John several times allowing the dogs on the bed.

“Are you going into the office tomorrow?”

Anders sighed, “Fuck no, at least not right away. I do have some afternoon appointments that I have to attend to. What about you?” Anders finished stripping and climbed into bed.

“Umm what’s today?”

Anders looked at his phone, “It is now officially Thursday the 10th.”

John looked at his work scheduled on his phone, “I guess I’m off today. Well, Miss Mary Elizabeth has great timing!” The smile had returned to John’s face as he crawled into Anders’s arms.

“Yes, I guess she does! She’s such a beautiful baby isn’t she?”

John raised up, “Wait a minute, I thought you said that all babies are ugly?”

“Well, all babies are ugly except for Mary Elizabeth. No other baby can compare to her.”

John gave Anders a long kiss, “Mmm I agree, love. I still can’t get over that they named her after my mum. I didn’t want to give her back to Dawn. And YOU mister ‘I don’t want to have any kids’… YOU were a natural when you were holding her!”

“Hold on, hold on, you’re forgetting that I helped raise Ty and Axl from when they were born. Holding a baby doesn’t scare me, being a father scares me. And can we please stop talking so you can start kissing me!”

Mitchell’s laugh lit up his face, “I love you Anders Mitchell-Johnson.”

“I love you too John Mitchell-Johnson.”

******************************

#deanobingo2024 #dean o'gorman

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kayforpay · 11 months ago

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Silly ass prompt. What's better than two weiners? FOUR WEINERS!

"So it's a quirk, then?" Shouta looks unimpressed, which is normal, but slightly more unimpressed than usual. Hizashi shifts, realizing that their couch really wasn't made for three people to sit on. "How long does it last? Are you split into... emotional states?"

Hizashi, the original one, shrugs. "No clue, honestly. And I think it's just... Copies? They don't seem to talk or anything, they just kind of, I don't know. They do that I think at them to do?" He looks to his left, at the other two of himself, who are staring blankly into space. Spooky. "I know it's really creepy, but I didn't want to just leave them outside somewhere."

Shouta is sitting in his armchair, legs crossed, and he looks at the clock. "You reported it already, didn't you? Even if it's a kid's quirk, they need to learn to control it to keep this from happening. It seems too strong to risk." It has been, by Hizashi's rough estimation, at least four hours since he got knocked over by a teenager and found himself multiplied. Apparently, the kid was in a support course with another school.

"I reported it right away! I was on patrol anyway, but now I can't go to the radio station. I don't want to freak anyone out." He shifts again, and the other two versions of himself scoot slightly down. "I'm lucky I had enough civilian clothes for all three of us, or it would have caused an even bigger scene."

About ten seconds pass in silence, and Hizashi starts to wonder if the other versions of himself even need to breathe before Shouta sighs and stands up. As he walks past the side of the couch Hizashi is sitting on, he pulls his hair out of the lazy bun he had it in when they got home, and stretches.

"I'm guessing you didn't take a shower? Your hair is crunchy." He's smiling, at least, so that's a bonus. "If they're gonna be around, I don't want them wearing your dirty clothes. Come on."

It takes Hizashi a moment to consider the offer, and then he's walking into the bathroom, followed by his clones, all of them leaving a trail of clothing as they go. Shouta is crouching by the heat dial, carefully adjusting the temperature in his boxers, and it's only then that Hizashi wonders why Shouta is joining him at all. He probably took a shower as soon as he got off patrol.

"Uh, babe, I can get myself clean, if you want? I don't want you to get weirded out. Or tired of my face." He chuckles, watching raptly as Shouta strips his boxers, and then delicately removes his prosthetic. Like always, Hizashi moves it out of the room, so the steam doesn't get to it.

Shouta sits on the stool. "If I was going to get sick of your face, I would have been sick years ago, Hizashi. Come here." He waves a hand, and Hizashi comes where he's beckoned, still flushed that Shouta was... Well, somewhat sweet, right?

Shockingly, Before Hizashi can sit on a washcloth between his legs, Shouta pulls him into a kiss, his hands spread over Hizashi's chest. His tongue presses against the corner of Hizashi's lips when he pulls back to speak.

"Sho, what're you doing?" He paused, letting Shouta shove his tongue into his mouth, and knelt on the cloth instead. "Not that I'm complaining, but--"

He waves at the copies, which he swore hadn't blinked since before they came into the bath.

The water was hot when it hit the back of his head, and he yelped. "I'm not wasting having tomorrow off just because you got hit with a quirk." His hands work through Hizashi's hair, melting the gel with practiced movements and the specialty shampoo Hizashi uses.

"Should I send them out?"

Shouta's eye narrows slightly. "They need a shower, too."

He can't really argue with that, even though he would be just as happy keeping them stood by the door until he has to go somewhere and keep track of them, so he just takes the showerhead to rinse his hair. Shouta's hands go back to his chest, massaging his skin and pulling at Hizashi's nipples with his thumbs.

Hair and soap stream down Hizashi's face, and he jumps when Shouta wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it lazily, and he jumps again when Shouta leans in to bite his ear. "Can they touch me, Zashi?" His breath is hot, even compared to the water.

It should be uncomfortable how easy it is to control the copies, to have them walk over and wrap their arms around Shouta. One kisses him, and the other slides under his arm to mouth at his chest, and Hizashi pushes his hair out of his face in time to see Shouta's cock twitch, to see him swallow back a moan at the hands on him.

Zashi kneels lower, until he can press his face into the dark hair around the base of Shouta's cock, and gets the copies to support him leaning back. The Hizashi at Shouta's chest trails sloppy kisses lower, and the one kissing him moves to nibble at his neck. Shouta breathes a little harder as he's pulled to lean against the Hizashi at his back, and digs his nails into that one's arm as the other two meet at his prick.

They lick around the shaft, red eyes half-lidded, and Zashi glances up at Shouta to meet his eye before pulling himself into a slow kiss. Shouta groans, and bucks his hips almost hard enough to fall off the stool when they go back to licking around his cock. The Hizashi behind him holds him up, settling into a seated position behind him, and spreads his legs wider.

Hizashi and Zashi crawl forward, one sucking his cock while the other takes advantage of the angle to drag his tongue over his hole. While Zashi's busy, Hizashi's own hard cock (who even knew they could do that?!) presses against his thigh, and he wraps a hand around it. If only the sensations were shared, Zashi thinks.

"Hey, Sho." He sits up, his mouth wet, and makes the Hizashi sucking Shouta off sit up. "Wanna see me suck my own dick?"

Shouta is silent, his eye so wide he seems nervous, and Zashi is about to apologize. "Yeah, but I'm probably gonna come." His lips curl into a frown, and the Hizashi behind him slides a hand down to stroke his cock.

Zashi closes his eyes as he takes the Hizashi into his mouth, humming softly. It's a little awkward, but no more than any other time he'd sucked someone off for Shouta to watch; honestly, this is the most excited Shouta has ever seemed to watch it. Usually it's more for Zashi than anything.

The Hizashi behind Shouta presses two fingers into Shouta, tentative, but Shouta is clearly somewhat prepared, because he just groans to do more. The Hizashi in front of Zashi himself tangles his hands into Zashi's hair, pulling his hair to move him. It's a little less fun than when someone is actually testing the amount he can take, actually being rough, but Shouta is squirming before long, his foot slipping against the slick tile as he tries to push against the fingers inside him and the hand around him.

Pulling back with a sharp gasp, Zashi has Hizashi slap the head of his cock against his tongue, and Shouta grunts, his jaw tense, as he comes, white spilling over the Hizashi's knuckles. Zashi moves in to kiss him, and Shouta whimpers, pulling him closer with sharp nails in his back.

"Fuck me. I w-- I want you in me. All of you." The flush on his face deepens, but he wraps his knee around Zashi's waist to drag him in anyway. "You look so good with your hair down."

Even without the compliment, Zashi's nodding, kissing Shouta again as he presses against the knuckles at the edge of his hole. "Can you take it, Sho?" Zashi isn't under any delusions that he's got a massive dick, but it also isn't like they really do a lot of stuff with Shouta taking anything bigger; the last time they had Sekijiro over, Zashi had been the one taking him, and Shouta had done his best to play into the fantasy, looking detached and giving directions.

"Yeah. Come on." He looks over Zashi's shoulder, and waves to the Hizashi standing behind him. "Bring him here?"

Shouta takes Hizashi's cock into his mouth as soon as he can, and Zashi presses into his hole with a groan, letting his head lean against the other Hizashi's shoulder once he's inside. Shouta is pretty well prepared, considering how little attention Zashi has been able to give to him, but he's still not going to rush into it. They rarely get days off together, anyway.

Hizashi starts to fuck Shouta's mouth, in the way he usually likes, short thrusts that force his throat open and make him struggle not to gag. Zashi grinds against him, watching as his flagging erection returns to fullness at the attention. The Hizashi behind Shouta pinches his nipple, and reaches to the wall nook with the other shower supplies. He grabs the lube, and reaches between Zashi and Shouta to pour some over Zashi's cock before he fucks back into him.

He pours more of the lube onto his own cock, and between them they lift Shouta almost completely to get his cock lined up. Shouta pulls off of Hizashi's cock with a gasp, and presses his face against Hizashi's thigh while the one behind him presses in. Zashi's hips twitch when they're both seated inside him, the pressure surprisingly good, and Shouta moans aloud, mouth pressing to the base of Hizashi's cock.

Despite his best attempts to muffle himself, Shouta's moans still leak out while Zashi moves, fucking him as slowly as he can stand to. He sucks little marks into Shouta's skin, and has the Hizashi behind him stroke his cock.

Surprisingly, the first one to come is the Hizashi over Shouta, who yanks his head back almost too hard to cum over his face, panting. Zashi marvels at how Shouta finds his o-face attractive while Shouta moans, shaking between him and the other Hizashi. His hole twitches, and Zashi speeds up, pushing Shouta's legs up to get between them more.

When Shouta lets his head hang limply against the other Hizashi's shoulder, Hizashi moves to lick the cum off his cheeks, moaning in Zashi's voice, and Shouta whimpers. His knees tighten, almost like he's trying to push Zashi away, and he jerks, hard enough for Zashi to slip out of him as he comes again, more cum dripping down his shaft and his voice echoing off the tiled walls.

Zashi doesn't give him a moment, pressing himself back in immediately while he kisses Hizashi. They move in tandem, for the most part, while Shouta's legs curl almost to his chest from the stimulation. He breathes little encouragements between kisses, telling Zashi to go faster, that he's doing well.

The Hizashi behind Shouta holds his legs up to his chest while Zashi moves, moaning softly each time he thrusts in. Shouta wraps a hand around the back of Zashi's neck, pulling him in to kiss him, and Zashi comes with an almost too-loud moan, hips jerking and thighs slipping against the Hizashi clone's legs.

The Hizashi behind Shouta lets his legs down, and Zashi realizes when he pulls back that the Hizashi must have also finished, from the mess spilling out of Shouta's hole. He doesn't move far, more concerned with kissing Shouta a little more than really examining how much cum is coming out of him (though he does consider it something worth thinking about later).

After a few minutes, and Zashi's knees starting to really ache from the tile, Shouta yells, thudding to the floor as smoke fills the small room. "What?!"

Zashi leans back and fans the smoke out of his eyes. "Oh. I guess that's how we get rid of them." The room feels weirdly empty, now, and he stumbles over himself picking Shouta up off the floor.

"You said a teen is the one who has this quirk?" Shouta asks, picking up the forgotten showerhead and rinsing the sweat off himself. "I guess we should probably report this, too."

Hizashi glues himself to Shouta's back, snuggling against his neck. "I don't know. Do we? It's a little awkward, isn't it?"

#thnks fr th qstns #anon and on and on and on #erasermic #bnha #drabbles #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #nsft #yeah its exactly what u think it is. lol.

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