#they really mean the world to me. i'm not ready | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uzurakis · 1 day

Note

can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)

TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.

n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.

you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.

megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

"you look… um, really pretty."

"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"

you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."

the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”

GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"

you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”

"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."

a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.

then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."

you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"

gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.

ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.

“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”

your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."

his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”

as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."

“you’re too sweet, yuu,”

"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”

NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.

his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.

"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.

he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.

you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."

nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"

you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.

GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”

“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.

he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”

you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."

@uzurakis

424 notes · View notes

ghoulfuckersincorporated · 20 hours

Note

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #submission

107 notes · View notes

sunny44 · 2 days

Text

Forget about us

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Ex!reader

Warnings: nothing I guess

Summary: Y/n writes a song about her ex and ends performing for him.

Note: heyy, this story was inspired by the song Forget about us from Perrie, im using her as face claim and her last name also.

Y/nedwards instagram post

Liked by @rebeccadonaldson, @maxverstappen1, @yourbff and others 28397

Y/nedwards Hey guys, I’m happy to tell you all that my new single “Forget About Us” is out now. This is a very personal song for me and I was really concerned to put it out but here we are.

Hope you guys like it

@f1fan this song is fantastic and I love it

@jnao22 I hope Carlos listens to it

@Imrebeccad In love with this song

Load for more comments

This was definitely the most personal song I had ever written. I had written songs about him and our relationship before, but nothing so deep and exposing my feelings so clearly. But after years, I finally felt ready to expose my feelings to the world, and here we are.

And it happened to be during the Monaco Grand Prix weekend, to which I was invited by Ferrari. Even though I knew he would be there, I couldn't refuse because, according to my agent, this was what I needed for my career, especially since I made a song about him, even though people didn’t know about it.

So here I was, entering the garage and being greeted by some familiar faces.

"Y/n." I turned around to see Charles, surprised to see me.

"Hi." I hugged him.

"How are you? It's been a while." He said, a bit awkwardly.

"I'm fine, and you?"

"Also fine. I heard your song, and it's amazing."

"Thanks, I listened to yours too, and I'll definitely ask you to do a piano solo for me."

"I'd love that."

"Y/n?" And the voice I least wanted to hear.

"Carlos." I said simply.

"I didn't know you were coming."

"Yeah, I was invited."

"Oh, that's great. How are you?" At this point, Charles had already found a way to slip away.

"Good, and you?"

"Good too." Thank God he didn't mention the song.

"You are..." he was interrupted by a woman with brown hair and beautiful blue eyes.

"Hi, love." She kissed him and looked at me. "Hi, you’re Y/n, right?"

"Yes."

"I'm Rebecca, Carlos's girlfriend." She said kindly and extended her hand to me.

"Yeah, of course." I shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I loved your song. I haven't stopped listening to it for a minute."

"Song?" Carlos asked, confused.

"The one I showed you the other night, and you said it was very good."

"Thanks for that. Look, I need to go, but it was a pleasure meeting you."

"Sure, if you want to watch the race with me."

"Thanks for the invite." I said, walking away.

It was all too much. The encounters happened very quickly, just minutes after I arrived so I needed some time away. But on my way, I bumped into someone and would have fallen if the person hadn't caught me.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry." I said as soon as I regained my balance.

"No problem, I almost made you fall." I picked up my bag from the floor. "Y/n, right?"

"Yes, nice to meet you."

"Max." He said, and that's when I realized he was another driver.

"Of course, I know who you are." He smiled. "Sorry again, I wasn't paying attention, and it's very crowded here."

"Small place with lots of people, it's normal." He laughed. "Which garage are you in?”

"Ferrari."

"I knew I recognized you from somewhere."

"Please don't tell me it's because of Carlos."

"Actually, no, you released a song a few days ago, didn't you?"

"Yes I did."

"Daniel hasn't stopped listening to it, and he insisted I listen to it too. Really good, by the way." He said kindly.

"Thanks, that means a lot."

"Now I know who it's about." He joked, and for some reason, that made me laugh.

"Yeah."

"You're welcome in the Red Bull garage anytime."

"Thanks."

"Well, I have to go, but I'll see you around."

"Sure, definitely." He waved and started to leave. "Oh, there's an event tonight, and they're looking for someone to close the night. I'll mention you."

"Wow, thank you, that would be amazing."

"See you later then."

"Sure." And then he left.

...

A few hours later, I got a call from the event organizer at Tag Heuer, saying that if I was available to sing my song at the end of the night, she would send me the details. Since I couldn't refuse, I obviously accepted.

And now, I was here, nervous, trying to think of an outfit that would look good but not too simple since Monaco wasn't a place where people wore ordinary clothes.

"Oh my God, I have nothing to wear." I said, frustrated, to myself, and seconds later, there were knocks on my door. When I opened it, my manager walked in with a black garment bag, probably with an outfit inside, followed by two more women. "What's going on?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't find a way?" She shook the hanger in her hand, and I laughed. "Have you showered?"

"Yes."

"Then you can start on the makeup."

I think an hour later, I was ready. The outfit was perfect for a performance at an event in Monaco. I would say a bit over-the-top in my opinion, but according to my manager, it was a common outfit for the place we were in.

When I left the hotel and headed to the event, I was wearing a black dress for now since I would be participating in the party a bit before my performance, and she didn't want to spoil the outfit's surprise.

When I arrived, I obviously passed by several photographers before managing to get inside. Once I stepped inside, a few gazes turned directly to me, and I just smiled and tried to blend in.

"You look beautiful." I heard a voice behind me, and it was Carlos.

"Thanks, you don't look bad yourself."

"Thanks."

"Found you." Now it was Max. "So, are you nervous about later?"

"Later?" Carlos asked.

"Oh, I mentioned her to the Tag Heuer folks. They were looking for a final performance to close the event."

"You're going to sing?"

"Yes."

"Want something to drink?"

"Oh, I don't think it's a good idea. Better not to be tripping during the performance." Max laughed and agreed. "But I'll take a sparkling water if you have."

"Sure, be right back."

"About the song..."

"We don't need to talk about it. Actually, I don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it with you."

"Because the song is about me?"

"Look, just forget it, okay? I wrote a song about something in my life, and there's nothing wrong with that."

"I didn't say there was."

"Just forget it, okay? Why don't you go be with your girlfriend?"

"So you can stay here alone with Max?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's obvious he's into you."

"And this concerns you because?" He didn't respond. "That's what I thought."

With that, I left and found Max halfway. We talked until it was time for me to go. I changed clothes and was backstage, waiting for them to announce me so I could go on stage.

"And now we have one last performance, singing her newest single. Y/n Edwards."

I went on stage, and the music started playing. I felt the gazes on me, but his gaze felt like it was burning my skin. I had to be careful not to stare at him the whole song, but a few times our gazes met, and when the song was ending, I looked at him, who was smiling at me and applauding along with everyone else.

After that, I returned to the party, which now had a DJ. I received several compliments and once again encountered Carlos, but this time with his girlfriend.

"You were amazing." She said excitedly and hugged me. "It was even better live, and I loved your outfit."

"Thank you."

"Y/n." Max came with a drink in hand. "Here, your manager said it's your favorite."

"Thanks."

"Come on, let's leave them alone." Rebecca said, and reluctantly, Carlos went with her.

"Come, let's go over there." He took my hand, and we went to the other side.

Most of that night is a blur. Max and I drank too much, and I only remember waking up naked next to him the next morning. I spent the day at his apartment with him until I caught a flight to England in the evening.

...

Already back in my routine, I woke up to the alarm, ready to get dressed for an interview. When I picked up my phone, I was hit by thousands of news stories with titles like "Carlos Sainz and Rebecca Donaldson Break Up," and there was also a message among the thousands of others that caught my attention.

Bonus scene!

Y/nedwards instagram stories

“So happy that I got to play my song here in Monaco, thank you @Taghauer”

138 notes · View notes

dunmeshistash · 9 hours

Note

I really enjoy your deep dives and analyses of all the characters, and Milsiril especially. I haven't done as much research and investigation as you have, but I have my own ideas about Milsiril. I think she's rather... delusional might be the word? I agree that Otta was probably exaggerating and she didn't actually consider the children that she adopted as pets, but I think that she didn't have what we might consider a normal perception of the children, specifically Kabru.

First of all, she seems to have a bit of an idealization of him that doesn't allow for his own opinions and personality. It's innocuous and not uncommon for a parent, but it feels to me as if she has an idea of how he is, and it confuses and upsets her when he doesn't follow the picture of her ideal world. Her decision to train him when he asks is far from complete acceptance of his goal. What she says is "until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.

Secondly, I think that there's a lot of symbolism around the dolls. Bear in mind that these are all my own interpretations. First off, Milsiril's love and friendship for her dolls shows her as almost a child-like figure. Her dolls do what she wants them to, but they're people to her. She's a child in her own little world, and the kids she adopts might be a part of that-playmates, just like her dolls are. Bear in mind that I'm not trying to infantilize her or say that she has one, straightforward motivation. One of the things I love about Dungeon Meshi is how complex every single character is. She probably has many driving forces behind adopting children, but it seems to me like this might be one of them.

That's about all I have for her, at least at the moment. I think she might have some underlying mental illness or trauma that's skewing her perception of things, but I definitely don't agree with the people who think she's completely unstable or immoral. Thanks for looking at this!

Hey! Thank you!

Yeah I think the dolls is what lots of people use to say she likes to "manipulate" people or be in charge of them in a way, and I understand the symbolism of a puppet master since she has full control of these dolls and wont deny that might be something!

I'm not sure if I agree with this part tho.

I think Milsiril mostly can't keep up with Kabru getting older so fast since he's short lived, to me its almost like she sees him as a toddler when he's already a teen. And that's a common issue between long and short lived races so it's not something unique to her.

To me the reason she's so upset seems to be trauma from Utaya tbh. She was there and saw all those horrible things happen, it affected her so much she retired, and Kabru is the only survivor, a small frail child that lost everything and that now she sees like a son. Wouldn't you want to protect someone you see as a small scared child? Wouldn't you be upset if you learned they want to leave the comfort and safeness you created for them to go back into the horrible world that caused all that suffering he went through? I would.

I think people forget she's basically a war veteran.

She might not know him very well especially now that he left home but I think she knows him about as well as moms usually do, if you mean the cake thing I'm pretty sure she was aware Kabru didn't like elf cake and it's just a silly gag about her being upset he doesn't like her hometown sweet. (And probably also to show he does struggle with having two different backgrounds, Utaya and Milsiril) I think she knows he doesnt like it cause Kabru is never fake in front of her in the interactions we see, I'm pretty sure he tells her when he dislikes something and when he likes something. The other proof is how she took him to the family gathering even tho he didn't explicitly ask, she knew he wanted to go cause she knows that's the type of thin he likes.

About this

That implies that her goal is not entirely training him to be ready, but rather trying to convince him that he doesn't want this.

Yeah that's completely right! But I see that as an act of love on her part, even if its misguided and like, not great. She wants to prove to him he's too weak to go on his own because she seems him as a small child. If a 5 year old asked you to teach them to be a soldier so they can go to war how would you feel?

He isn't 5 tho and he clearly COULD take the training. Nothing indicates he ran away from her to be able to go and he talks about how she trained him and helped him study all that he wanted.

So even tho she said something bad and wanted to convince him the world out there was too cruel, she ultimately let go of him so he could do what he needed.

And Kabru even acknowledges she was right, the world WAS as shitty as she described and even worse. When he says he still doesn't want to go back where he has a soft bed and cake I don't think it's because he hated it there, but because he has the determination to face the cruel world she described cause he doesn't want Utaya to happen again.

Again about the dolls I think they're a source of comfort for her, she was clearly traumatized and going thru something her whole life, you don't get nicknamed "gloomy" for no reason, even her fellow canaries bullied her and thought she was weird.

The children she adopts might be an evolution of her doll thing I'll admit. But more in the sense they're a source of comfort for her, she was someone who was alone for most of her life, being able to love and be loved by children is probably something that makes her really happy. Even if her "motives" might be a little weird and she might not be fully altruistic (who is) what she does seem to be a net positive. Considering the two people we know that she helped (Mithrun and Kabru) she successfully helped them become independent of her. They were both vulnerable people in her care at one point but both are now independent and navigating life. (Mostly independent in Mithruns case but he doesn't need her in specific) That's my arguments to why she doesn't really treat real people as dolls, dolls can never become independent of you.

#ask #fearofgodandtolkien #Milsiril #dunmeshi thoughts #dungeon meshi spoilers

60 notes · View notes

fvckwluv · 23 hours

Text

I'll Pick You Up at 8

Spencer Agnew x gender neutral reader

accidental first date fluff one shot

word count: 4.6k

A/N: I haven't written fiction in such a long time, so bare with me.

potential content warning: make-out session depicted, joking/talking about the implication of s3x (s3x NOT depicted)

Just like after every SwordAF recording session, you're still so amped up from the game, you insist the group goes out to your favorite restaurant for dinner. A small authentic Italian pizza joint, Ardovino's. And just like every time, your exhausted friends decline.

Well, everyone except Spencer.

"C'mon guys..." Your whine draws on as you pout with your whole body, like a disappointed child. "It'll be fun I promise. And the food is to die for."

Your friends' rejection wasn't new, far from it. It had actually begun to become a running joke. You always get the post-performance adrenaline rush after SwordAF. While the rest of the crew would rather wind down, you insist on a big group dinner.

"Y/N." Chanse spoke. "Leave It." The group, including you, chuckled. "The very last shoot of one of our busiest shoot weeks isn't the time for a pizza party."

"He's right, babe." Amanda chimed in. "It's time to sleep."

You throw your arms down to your sides in defeat and give Shayne a pleading look.

"Sorry." Shayne shrugs. "Me and Court are bathing the cats tonight."

"You guys are lame!" You exclaim. "You have your whole lives to sleep and bathe cats! You have only one night to rally at Ardovino's!"

"Ardovino's isn't going anywhere." Shayne retorts. "Look, we all promise, we'll do it another time."

"But I'm not gonna be here for the next week and a half!" You playfully whine. "It could go bankrupt and shut down by then!"

Spencer closely watches you from behind the cameras with a subtle smirk. The scene of you insisting they all go out never gets old to him. You get so passionate. Your eyes grow wider than they already are. You pitch dinner like it's life or death. A trait of yours Spencer has always adored.

Spencer makes his way over from behind the cameras to start putting up the mic equipment. "Y/N," He shakes his head and chuckles to himself as he wraps up various cords. "I don't think that place is in danger of shutting down as long as your around."

You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I don't think there's been a single week that's gone by since I've known you, that you haven't eaten from there." Spencer says, eyebrows raised. And a smile he couldn't get rid of, even if he tried.

"What else am I supposed to do? I make up like half their business." You joked. "Since none of my 'so called friends' have ever even set foot in the joint."

Shayne, Chanse, and Amanda are all getting up from the table, getting ready to go home for the weekend. While you keep sitting there, looking up at Spencer, with that smile he thinks about when he's all alone.

Spencer had eyes for you since you first met. Something only a close observer, and of course, Kiana, would know. You weren't just obviously and immediately stunning- you were the funniest person Spencer has ever met. And in his eyes, that was the most attractive quality a person could have. You were also incredibly caring and warm, of course. You gave steadfast support and generosity to the people in your life. The things that came out of your mouth consistently took him by surprise- whether it was your unwavering wit, completely unique observations about the world, or the most thoughtfully crafted and kindest compliments. Spencer knows you as one of the strangest and greatest people in his life.

The one thing Spencer didn't notice about you- was your clear feelings for him.

It took you guys a while to become good friends. His crush on you made him shy. But you eventually wiggled your way into his shell. And he was more than happy to accommodate you. It had almost been a year since you really formed a genuine and intimate friendship with him outside of work. Playful teasing. Inside jokes. Carpooling. Cat sitting. Late night phone calls. Stories you've never told anyone else. Testing games for the channel at Spencer's place. Ordering in. Falling asleep together on his couch.

All while you adored everything about him. His laugh. His unfiltered jokes. His attentiveness. His green eyes. His tattoos. His arms.

The same arm he was currently nudging you on the shoulder with. "Okay, fine." He groaned. "You win. Let's go to Ardovino's."

Amanda and Chanse stop in their tracks and give each other a knowing look of excitement. They, of course, being the only ones to know about your feelings for Spencer.

"Really?!" You swelled. "Wait, are you being serious?!"

Spencer laughed.

"Wait, Spencer, really?! No way! Really?!"

His eyes could fall out of his head with the way he's looking at you.

"Spencer!" You tugged on his hand and started shaking it. "Are we really gonna go to Ardovino's?!? Finally?!?"

Spencer stays quiet as he grins and basks in your excitement. That smile. Those eyes. Your excited shrill. Your hands touching his.

"Spencer!!" You give him another shake.

It pulls him out of your eyes and back into the moment. "Yes, yes. Just let me get some actual clothes on. I'll pick you up at eight o'clock."

"Oh wait," With raised eyebrows, your tone and posture softens. "Now I feel bad. I don't want you to have to change."

"Well it's a nice place, right?" He shrugs. "Can't go in like this." He motions to his old champion hoodie.

"Wait, no, nevermind." You say. "It's okay, Spence. I don't wanna put you out like that. I know you're tired."

"Yeah, y/n, you're really putting me out." He mocks. "Going to dinner with a beautiful thing like you. How burdensome."

Beautiful?

You give him a quizzical look, but can't help the huge smile creeping on your face and the color rushing to your cheeks. Your suddenly extremely aware of your grip on his hand. It starts to feel very hot, almost burning.

"Relax." Spencer says, very softly, almost a whisper. "I wanna go with you. I'll be at your place at eight, okay?"

As he looks down at you with a smirk, there's something in his eyes that excites you. But also starts making the eye contact between the two of you intense.

You can barely utter out "Okay."

"Okay." He says with a smile, again in that soft tone. He gives your hand a squeeze before turning to leave.

Your eyes linger on the door as he exits the game stage. He left you with a smile you can't seem to shake.

Amanda and Chanse are gripping each others shoulders with their jaws on the floor as you slowly turn your body to face them.

Shayne is oblivious.

---

"Okay." You let out a breath as you give your outfit a onceover in the mirror.

"Now that's a first date fit." Chanse says eating popcorn from your couch.

"Chanse. I don't know how many times I have to say this- but this isn't a date. I basically begged him to take me to dinner."

"That's not what I saw. He couldn't wait to pick you up at eight." Chanse mimics Spencer in a provocative tone.

"Well it's just dinner, Chanse. Me and Spencer eat together all the time."

"Yeah, at the office or your guys' apartments. Not at a fancy, romantic pizzeria."

"It's not fancy or romantic."

"He called you beautiful."

You scoff. "I call you beautiful all the time. What? Is this a date? Are we dating now?"

"Yeah but he obviously likes you."

"You know you keep saying that, and then nothing happens. He's never made a move- or done literally anything to indicate he's into me."

"What are you talking about?! It's happened like a million times! You always just brush it off!"

"I don't brush him off!"

"Yes you do. You brush him off because you're too scared of rejection."

You roll your eyes. "Well, Chanse, normal people are plenty scared of rejection."

Chanse puts his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "Oh am I not normal?"

"No." You emphasize. "You're some superhuman freak. You can just walk up to anybody and start flirting."

"And you wanna know what the worst thing that happened was?"

You tilt your head at him and put your hands on your hips.

"They didn't reciprocate. And I just keep on living."

"Yeah, but if Spencer rejects me..." You trail off defeatedly. You search for the words, and suddenly the weight of all that you'd feel if Spencer were to reject you comes crashing down. "I couldn't just brush that off, Chanse. I like him. So much. It'd crush me."

"Well, I think living in this limbo of unknown feelings and 'what ifs?' for the rest of your life- would crush you even more."

Your phone buzzes with a text from Spencer.

On my way :)

"Shit, that's him." Your heart sinks. Suddenly this all becomes very real and the fact that you and Spencer are going to be having a candlelight dinner sends nerves throughout your entire body.

"You need to get out of here before he comes." You pull Chanse off the couch and take away the bowl of popcorn.

As you push him towards the door Chanse laughs. "If it's not a date, why can't I stay?"

You stop and he turns to face you.

"I mean it's just two friends getting together, right? Why don't I just tag along, too?" Chanse smirks.

You're ready to call his bluff.

"The more the merrier." You smile.

"Great."

Silence surrounds the staring contest between the two of you.

"It's not a date, Chanse."

"Then why'd you choose that underwear?"

You roll your eyes and start pushing him out the door again. "Goodbye."

Chanse manages a very rushed "Use protection!" before you slam the door on him.

---

In the car, on the way to your apartment, Spencer gets a call. It's Kiana.

He answers the phone from the bluetooth system on the steering wheel. "Hello?"

"Why did I just get a text from Chanse that you and y/n are going on a date?" Kiana questions.

"Date? I mean, we're going to dinner?"

"And you didn't tell me?! This is your chance Spence!"

Spencer rolls his eyes. Then an idea strikes him. "Wait, date? Is that the word Chanse used?"

"Well, no. He said you two are going to Ardovino's right now. Alone."

"Well yeah, Kiana, that's not a date."

"You can make it one."

Spencer furrows his eyebrows. "What does that even mean?"

"I mean, you want it to be a date, right? And I can bet you, she wants it to be a date, too."

"I don't think so."

"Spencer, y/n obviously likes you."

"Then why haven't they told me?"

"Why haven't you told them?!"

"You know why, Kiana. I can't risk that. If I put everything out there, and they don't feel the same way..." Spencer follows the trail of thought where he confesses his feelings. You rejecting him. You distancing yourself from him. No longer being friends. No longer being able to make you laugh. No more late night phone calls. No more you. You weren't something he was willing to lose. "It'd ruin everything."

"But if you go on like this, you'll lose y/n either way. They'll eventually meet someone who'll actually make a move."

For a while, there's a silence where only the cars on the road can be heard.

"There's always gonna be that what if in your head if you don't just go for it. And it'll be too late." Kiana says. "A nice dinner is the perfect place to tell her how you feel."

---

As Spencer shuffles up the steps to your apartment, Kiana's words couldn't get out of his head. What if you did meet someone else? The thought of anyone else being with you- hugging you, kissing you, making you laugh- stung.

He knocks on your door.

What if you did want this to be a date? What if this was his chance? What if he told you his feelings and you told him yours back? What if he kissed you and you kissed him back? What if-

All at once, Spencer's thoughts go quiet and his breath hitches. You open the door. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His eyes are more than happy to take you all in. He's too preoccupied staring at you to even greet you.

"Hi." You sheepishly say after a few seconds of silence.

Spencer looked so handsome. And the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

"H- hey." He let out with a lot of air and a huge smile. You can see him looking over all of you. "You look..." He meets your eyes. "You're gorgeous."

You smile and feel the warmth rush to your cheeks, as well as to the pit of your stomach. "Thanks, Spence." You step closer to him and playfully tug on the collar of his white polo shirt. "You look very handsome." You giggle.

A playful moment, quickly turns into tension you could cut with a knife. Your faces now, just inches apart. Your hand still on his collar. Eye contact unbroken.

You look down at his lips for a split second when you suddenly hear a car horn down the street. It makes you guys jump back and laugh.

"Well..." You break the silence. "I thought we could walk there. It's only like ten minutes down the street. If that was okay with you?"

"Sounds perfect." Spencer smiles. He offers out his arm, doing his gentleman voice. "M'lady?"

You laugh. "M'lord." You link arms with his.

The walk there is filled with a very comfortable silence. It's not lost on you how nice being this close to him feels. You have a tight grip on his bicep.

Spencer is more than happy. Such a beautiful person like you, wrapped around his arm. He keeps almost running into things with how many times he's looking at you.

As you walk in to the restaurant, the older southern hostess, Lynn, you've seen many, many times greets you by name. "Hey, y/n! Welcome!"

Spencer laughs. "Come here that often, huh?"

You smile and roll your eyes at him.

"So who's the handsome fella?" Asks Lynn.

"Oh, this is Spencer." You say, gesturing your hand toward him.

"Well, Spencer, it's nice to meet you." Lynn smiles. "I hope you know you are one lucky man to be out on a date with this one!"

As you open your mouth to correct her, Spencer agrees. "Well, more like the luckiest man alive."

Lynn laughs. "Aw, well, ain't that cute? Right this way you two."

You give Spencer a bewildered look. But, of course, a huge smile on your face. Was Chanse actually right? Was this a date?

He doesn't look back at you. Instead he links your arm with his and leads you as he's walking.

His heart beating out of his chest. His nerves feel like fire. He was so nervous, but also, relishing this moment.

Lynn lets you know your waitress is on the way and walks away. Spencer pulls out your chair and helps you in. He sits down and starts looking at the menu.

You see a cool, calm, collected, nonchalant Spencer turning through the pages. Yet, what you don't know is, he's too scared to make eye contact with you.

You pick up your menu trying to follow his lead. But can't think straight. You haven't stopped smiling. A few moments go by and you keep putting down your menu to say something, but then go back to reading it.

Finally, with a huge smile, and raised eyebrows you say, "A date?"

Spencer freezes and looks up at you. "Hmm?"

"You're the luckiest man alive to be on a date with me?"

"Uh.." Spencer shifts in his seat. "You know.. uh- well... yeah."

Your heart flips.

"I mean, look at you." He gestures at you like it's obvious. "If this was a date, I'd be the luckiest man alive."

If?

Before you can say anything the waitress comes.

---

Dinner was great. It was just like any other time between the two of you. Great conversation. Lots of laughter. Untold stories. Except you were admiring his lips throughout your meal. And when you'd look away, so was he.

After an awkward fight for the bill, he wins.

He opens the door for you on the way out. You guys stand outside and just look at each other. No words are spoken, but you can feel a tension. Then you both instinctively laugh at the same time.

"Well..."

"Well.."

You didn't want this night to end. You look at the place across the street you go to often, and an idea strikes.

"Up for dessert?" You ask. "That place has the best churros in LA."

"Hell yeah." He extends his arm out to you again, and you take it. You guys find a break in between cars to jog across the street.

"¡Hola, hermosa!" Rita, the woman who owns the small churro stand, and at this point, a close personal friend, greets you. "Nice to see you!"

"Hi, Rita." You smile.

"Been here a lot, too, huh?" Spencer laughs.

"Shut up."

"This you boyfriend?" Rita asks.

You and Spencer both look at each other. Both of you secretly wishing you could answer 'yes' to that question.

"That's what everyone seems to think." You chuckle.

"Let me get a picture!" She says motioning to the cork board full of polaroids of couple who have eaten here.

"Oh, Rita, it's okay. We're ju-" Before you can finish your sentence she is out there with her camera.

"Okay, c'mon, c'mon, get close." She motion at the two of you.

You look at Spencer. "I'm so sorry, is this okay?"

"It's totally fine." He laughs.

He put his arm around your waist.

A chill rushes through you.

"One. Two. Three."

The camera clicks.

"Okay now kiss!"

You laugh awkwardly. "Oh, it's okay-"

"C'mon! Kiss!" Rita insists. "C'mon, such a good photo!"

Spencer and you look at each other with awkward smiles, not knowing what to do. You did want to kiss him, of course, but not like this. Not for the first time.

"I'll give you a peck on the cheek." Spencer whispers. "If that's okay with you."

You look up at him, flustered. "Oh, yeah, yeah. That's good."

He plants a kiss on your cheek. A sweet and intimate moment that makes both of your stomachs flutter. Rita snaps the photo.

"Beautiful!" Rita exclaims. "I'll bring out your usual now, okay?"

You and Spencer sit and wait on the curb in front of the stand. Rita brings one large churro and a huge cup of horchata to you guys and hands it to Spencer.

As you go through your stuff to pull out your cash, Spencer moves for his wallet. "Oh no, I got it, y/n."

"No, no, no!" Rita smiles. "On the house for the happy couple." She points at Spencer. "Just treat y/n right."

"Yes ma'am." Spencer chuckles.

"Oh! And here you go. One for you." Rita hands you the polaroid of Spencer kissing you on the cheek. "See? Such a good photo."

Rita walks away, and you and Spencer sit in a moment of silence looking at the picture.

"Wow." He breaks it. "You usually eat all this by yourself?" He laughs.

You hit his arm and giggle. "No! I come here with Chance... sometimes."

Spencer lets air escape his nose. He looks over to you with an endearing smile. Something in his tone shifted "And she never thinks Chanse is your boyfriend?"

"Well..." You blush and bring the photo closer to show him. "I guess you and I just have that undeniable chemistry." You joke.

"Yeah I mean, I get it." He says, placing the food down at his side, and grabbing the photo from you. "That's one handsome couple."

You both chuckle. As the sound fades and it's just the two of you in silence, you stare deep into each others eyes. Spencer notices a spark in yours that seems to be new.

It seems like every sign was telling you this was a date. Other people were literally telling you this was a date. Looking into his eyes, your heart swelled up to your throat. You cleared it, breaking the silence.

You leaned your body against Spencer to reach across him to get the churro that was on his other side. "Well..." You gesture for him to take a bite as you hold it. "Tell me what you think."

---

You threw your trash away and said bye to Rita.

"Onward?" Spencer, once again, offers his arm.

"Onward." You smile taking it.

Now, on the opposite side of the street, you pass your favorite café. It's pretty empty and there is a small jazz band out front you've seen play there plenty of times.

"Hey!" Mr. Reeves, the old pianist, stops playing when he sees you. The band follows with greetings as well.

"Hello, Mr. Reeves. Hello, everyone. How are you?"

"Well, I'm much better now after seeing you!" Mr. Reeves offers a friendly smile.

"Jesus, you really get out a lot, huh?" Spencer whispers in your ear and nudges your side. You look up at him and roll your eyes.

"Does your boyfriend here wanna dance?" Mr. Reeves asks.

"Jesus, you really get mistaken for my boyfriend a lot, huh?" You both laugh.

"Well, son? Are you gonna ask this pretty young thing to dance or not?" Mr. Reeves asks. The rest of the band joins in, egging Spencer on.

After a moment, of looking at each other. Spencer gives you a playful shrug. "Why not?" Spencer unlinks his arm from yours and offers his hand. "Will you do me the honors?"

You look at him in amazement. Your heart beating out of your chest. This was really happening. With a smile so wide, you take his hand.

The band starts playing your favorite old-timey love song you've told them so much about.

Spencer has a hand around each side of your waist, with a firm grasp. You have your hand wrapped around the back of his neck. You hadn't been this close to him for this long, ever. Without saying anything and only the occasional break in eye contact, you sway side to side on the pavement.

Once you both were able to push past the nerves, it was pure bliss. Spencer had the person of his dreams in his hands. He still hadn't gotten over how beautiful you looked tonight- tripping over his words during conversations you had throughout the night. He knew he couldn't push down his feelings any longer. Everyone thinking you were a couple, kissing you on the cheek, dancing with you- if all of this was a possibility for the two of you going forward, it was worth the risk of anything. He had to let you know how he felt. He was in love.

And you knew in that moment, you felt the same way.

As the song ended, the band started clapping for you both.

"Thanks for that." Spencer places some cash in a hat the band had in front of them. "Seriously thank you." He whispers to Mr. Reeves. Spencer would put his entire bank account in that hat to thank them for giving him that moment with you.

"So..." You giggle.

"So." Spencer repeats with a warm smile. This time, he offers his hand for you to hold. You happily take it. "Just no more detours, okay?" You both laugh.

As he guides you up the steps to your front porch you don't let go of his hand. And he doesn't let go of yours. You lean your back against the door, and give him a big smile.

You can't keep it in anymore.

"Well, Spencer. I think you just might be the luckiest man alive."

"Oh really? Why's that?" He grabs your other hand now too.

"Dinner, dancing, kissing... I think that was a date."

"Well, since that was a date..." A smile grew on his face. "That was the best date I've ever been on."

Your heart is pounding out of your chest. His too.

"Me too." You whisper.

You stare into each others eyes. And a brand new kind of silence embraces you both. You let go of his hand and pull on his collar again, bringing him a few inches from your lips. His hands go to your waist.

You stare at each other again. This time, obvious glances to each others lips. Your faces slowly gravitate towards each other.

Your foreheads touch.

Then your noses.

Then your lips.

A peck at first, but then quickly becoming deeper. Your hands are tightly tugging his collar to pull him even closer into you. His hands are even tighter around your waist to pull you closer to him.

You pull away with your eyes closed and with a big smile. You take in some fresh air and open your eyes. Your heart stops when you open them, and he's already looking at you, like he's hungry. He places his forehead on yours again.

"Holy shit, I can't believe this is happening." You giggle. He does too.

"Me neither." You both close your eyes again. "I've wanted to do that for such a long time."

"Me too." You whisper.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asks.

You answer by kissing him. Deeper and harder than before. Nothing but smiles each time his and your lips part. His hand travels up your body, to the side of your chin and neck. With the other still firmly against your waist. Both you and Spencer's breathing gets heavier. A mmm escapes your lips. Which sends an excited chill through Spencer's body.

You both pull away not being able to say anything for a bit. Your chests rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breathes.

"Spencer." You say between breaths.

"Y/n."

"I'm gonna ask you something, okay? But just let me finish before you answer. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm gonna ask if you want to come inside." You say with a shaky voice. "But... I think I should tell you... I have feelings for you. I have... deep, strong, feelings." Spencer doesn't break the intense stare he is giving you. You ramble on. "And if something were to happen in there, it would mean a lot more to me than just one night. I'd want something more than just that. I'd want you. Like, in a relationship, or whatever." You swallow the lump in your throat. Your pace quickens. "And if you don't feel the same way, that's totally okay. I'll be happy looking back on this night as a fun, spontaneous thing, you know? I'll be okay. And I'd wanna still be friends." Tears start to build in your eyes and you can feel your throat get heavier. "But I can't go any further if you don't feel the same way. Because if that happens... It's more than just a fun, spontaneous thing for me. It's... everything. So when I ask you to come inside, you can only say yes if you feel the same. Okay?"

You let out a big sigh. "Do you wanna come in?"

"Y/n, I...." Spencer closely studies your face. He gently wipes a tear that had fallen down your cheek. He takes your hand and places it over his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly.

"I love you." He says. "I wanna be with you... even if nothing else happens. I just want you. I always have. There's nothing I want more than just you. I love you."

"I love you too."

You smile and let out a breath of relief. Your lips and bodies embrace each other once again. You open the door, and he follows you inside.

#smoshblr #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew imagine #smosh rpf #smosh fanfiction

58 notes · View notes