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#i feel like i'm going in circles but i just need answers
v-iv-rusty · 2 years
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well. I feel slightly better now at least
#misc.txt#ocd+anxiety+chronic stress fucking sucks btw#gonna rant about it a bit#was literally in the middle of an Episode(tm) when I made the last post#currently watching that yt channel with the guy that makes fucked up sausages and somehow that's helping me take my mind off it#it's like. a little issue or question will pop up in the back of my mind#(for no real reason. or if something external triggers it)#and I try to ignore it but it gradually gets louder and louder#until I give in and start thinking about it constantly and it just gets um. completely consuming?#I will sit there and ruminate and google things for HOURS on end constantly feeling like I'm about to explode the whole time#just looking for answers my shit idiot brain will never be satisfied with#like#idk how you can mindlessly ruminate but that's what I do. just the same anxious thoughts over and over and that's all I can think abt#it doesn't go anywhere it's just thinking in circles#and then I'll get like. moments of clarity? where I realize 'wait I don't need to worry about this wtf'#but it's only for a second#(because things that make me feel better must be lies right? /s)#when it's really bad I lose my appetite and forget to eat/drink/do anything which makes me feel 10x worse obviously#and the fact that I feel physically bad doesn't register as hunger for some reason? I end up taking it as 'SEE the anxiety is right'#this probably doesn't make much sense without full context but whatever. anyway#talked to someone and I feel a lot better. trying hard to ignore the 'issue' and tell myself not to worry abt it but it's really hard to do#hopefully I don't have literal nightmares about the obsessions tonight because that's uh. a thing that's been happening lately
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
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TW: NSFW, yandere, f!reader, bondage, abuse, punishment, intense spanking/whipping-ish
gn reader
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“Please- plea- m’so- sorry-” You sob, voice cracking on its own blubbering. Chest full of panic – heaving for a fix but achieving little less than spurring even more hysteria.
“Haah…” He sighs. Casually fixing your bonds tighter around your wrists, hoisting them a little higher above your head until you were properly stretched up on your tippy-toes.
Shivering in just your undies in anxious wait of his anger.
Stroking your back while holding your belly in a steady hand, he thinks he’s never felt fear quite like it, but unfortunately, “Y’broke the rules, Sunshine… and now yer’ gettin’ punished.”
He unbuckles his belt. Your eardrums burn at the crisp sound, so much spiked blood rushing about, making you go dizzy. 
You think you might pass out.
“What did I say the rules were, hm? ‘You remember ‘em?” He mumbles in a steady tone, speaking awfully softly with his lips pressed against your temple. Waiting for your answer.
You give a sob and a pitiful nod, and he hums in return, rubbing calm circles into your shivering, goose-fleshed skin.
“Recite them for me.” He requests, nose rubbing your hairline as you shiver from his touch.
Voice unsteady, filtered through tears and a hopeless sense of terror – chin tipped up, needing to gasp for breaths. “N-no fighting, no- no arguing, no run- running-”
“Mh…” He hums, taking in the scent of your shampoo with a sniff of your crown, placing a kiss there as though in kudos – or as a small mercy before getting started. “And you managed to do all three in one night. ‘You feel proud, hm? ‘You feel accomplished? Hm? Was it worth it?”
You whimper under the interrogation, feeling smaller and smaller by the second – so exposed where you are, practically hanging from the ceiling like dead meat. Stripped of everything that might’ve protected you – or that would have at least cushioned the coming onslaught of pain you knew to dread.
“Nah… it’s written all over your body. Goosebumps and cold sweat, shaking from tits to toes. You regret it, don’t you?” He murmured, winding his belt around his fist once, then twice, leaving a looped tail. “Mh, maybe you’ll think twice about it next time... or maybe you’ll finally learn your place.”
He finished with a soft bite to the chub of your cheek, then grabbed your chin just as gently, holding your face up to look at him as he sidestepped to your front. Leaning his forehead against yours, he stroked your jaw with his thumb – lips hovering just short of yours.
“I'm gonna hurt you, Sweetie.” He purred, stroking your asscheek with the cool leather in his grip – in such gross contrast to what you knew he planned on using it for. “I promised I would, and now I will…”
He kissed your lips then – slowly, sweetly – suffocatingly so as you cried – tasting your tears and doing a terrible job at withholding his grin as you felt it pull giddily at the corner of his mouth.
He licked his lips once he pulled away, walking a circle around you like a shark.
“How many hits do you deserve?” He mused. “I guess one for each rule you broke is fair, but it seems a little scant…”
He stopped behind you, placing a chaste kiss on your arm before nuzzling around it.
“Should we say thirty?” He offered, and your eyes immediately widened.
Shaking your head furiously, prayers already coming out in splutters. “No- please-”
“No? Too many?” He pouted, not bothering to mask his glee now. “Okay, okay, calm down, baby. Breathe.” He soothed with no effort. “I think…”
There was a pause – a hum of thought as he wrapped his arms around your front and swayed you back against his chest in a hug.
“Ugh fuck, I'm no good makin’ rules on the fly…” He feigned - sinking his jaw into the grove of your armpit before cuddling the soft flesh with his chin-stubble.
He sucked his teeth in a further display of thought before releasing an exasperated sigh.
“I really didn’t think you’d break ‘em, y��know? I thought you’d be a good pet…”
You trembled, eyes looking down at the belt held between his big hands – whimpering at the sight of him simply playing with it – psyching you out like a true sadist.
“But you just had to disappoint me, didn’t you?”
You bit your lip to stop a sob.
“Had to be difficult… and now I gotta make difficult decisions…”
He slinked off you, leaving you to wobble – toes barely grazing the cold basement floor.
You try your best to prepare yourself for the next events, but the more you brace yourself the more tense you get and the harder you cry. “Please- I’ll be good- promise- m’real- really sorry-” 
“I know, baby. I know~ I am, too.” He coos, kissing your spine while rubbing circles into your sides – feeling your ribs rattle with sniffles, struggling for air through your panic. “I wanna make sure we never have to be sorry again.”
He wraps an arm around the front of your hips, steadying you while stroking the loop of his belt over your plump cheeks – tentatively teasing the soft flesh with what was soon to come.
He licked his lips at the promise – already imagining the flawless flesh blooming with his marks.
“I think thirty is fair.”
“No- no please- please, don’t-” You thrash – but do so little more than in place.
“Don’t squirm.” He interrupts, his hand curling into your hip with blunt nails denting the fine skin, keeping you still, pushing your side snugly against his front – holding you intimately while gruffing out eerie murmurs still much too softly for what he was saying. “Remember, it’s another ten hits if you fight me and another ten if you argue.”
At least he doesn’t make you count....
You wouldn’t have been able to even under threat – too busy wailing.
Each hit like the lash of a whip, smacking you fast, one on top of the other. It’s enough to make you throw up after half of it – though it's mostly just water and acid.
He takes pity enough to allow you a small break. Wringing off his wife-beater and wiping your mouth with it – also brushing some of the sweat off your brow before kissing your forehead. 
“Halfway there, Sweetie- you’re doing so good~”  He whispered soothingly, holding your cheeks to pick your face up from hanging – looking into the hopeless look of your opium-blown eyes – so lost he didn’t know if you could even hear him.
He acts as though he’s sorry after, but the boner he’s got nudged against you doesn’t lie – desperately dry-humping your thigh for some sort of relief.
His breaths are tight and hot, puffed against your arm where he now mouths wet kisses. “Good-” He swallows thickly, brows tight-knit, voice thick with lust. “Good pet.”
You hadn’t noticed he was done. And the relief doesn’t register either. There isn’t much comfort in it to grasp, not with the pain still so numbingly intense that you can’t feel anything but the raw sting. 
He drops the belt to the floor and struggles his fly open, shoving the trousers down along with his boxers, stepping out of the heap in a rush – all the while sucking sloppy kisses on your shoulder and nape, mumbling praise. “Y’were so good- so good fo’me- gonna reward yah- my good fuckin’ baby- gonna make yah feel so fuckin’ good now-”
The flesh of your ass burns with welts and split skin, ugly marks already lining the once-pretty color with horrid shades of bruise-dark. Your throat’s ripped raw from all the wailing – only weeping harder when he takes your hips and sways you back to meet his fat erection.
He shamelessly rubs himself between your cheeks – frenzied with his mouth gaping, releasing a filthy shuddering moan while leering at the beautiful sight of his handiwork – feeling so proud he was blushing just from sheer sadistic enjoyment – even letting slip a breathy laugh now.
He hung his tongue out and let his drool drip onto the shaft, then placed another kiss between your shoulder blades. Gliding his tip down and, with the help of a hand, pushed it between your cheeks until it caught your entrance. 
A rugged groan blew hotly down your spine, and another cry was ripped from your chest as he sunk inside without a single spare second to waste.
He laid his face to rest against your back, nudging up inside you slowly with both arms wrapping around you like before – holding you snugly before he began the intimate pace, fucking only the deepest coziest parts of you.
“I love you, Sunshine- you’re mine- only one I give two shits about- rest can just fuck off for all I care- as long as I have you- right here… forever.”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul, Aizawa, Todoroki
JJK – Toji, Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Sukuna, Naoya
HQ - Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, Sakusa, Suna, either Miya twin
BLLK - Isagi, Reo, Kunigami
DS - Doma
CSM - Aki
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retrobutterflies · 2 years
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Menace | e.m.
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Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: Telling a guy at a party that you have a boyfriend doesn't seem to deter him. Probably because that guy is your boyfriend and you're too drunk to realize.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Drinking, Major Fluff, Established Relationship, Cute pet names
A/N: Don't ever settle for a relationship if they wouldn't do your night routine for you.
The music was starting to give Steve a headache. Gone were the days of being the keg king and beer pong master, first to have a drink and last to stumble his way home. Now suddenly he was more worried about drunk Robin asking people far too personal questions and even drunker you deciding to play another drinking game because you liked that it had cards in it.
"Please, I'm sincerely begging you, Y/N, just sit down–" you interjected with a whine, staring up at him with heartbroken eyes.
"Steve, the game just started. I didn't even break the circle–" a loud hiccup cut off your slurred protests making Robin let out a squeaking laugh from the seat next to you.
Steve let out a tired sigh, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute before zeroing in on the two of you.
"Well, we're gonna play a new game. It's called sit here while Steve makes a phone call," he said, eyes flickering from yours, wide and disgruntled, to Robin's, half lidded from the joint he had found in her hand, not a clue where she got it from.
"It sounds awful," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking back into the couch.
"Yeah the name sucks," Robin said, picking up an unfinished drink from the side table next to the couch. Steve snatched it from her before she could press it to her lips because it wasn't her drink and she had thrown in her half smoked joint not even thirty seconds before, the rolled blunt floating around in the dark liquid.
"Rob, stop trying to drink everything you see. You're not aquatic," he hissed, harshly dropping the drink on a table out of her reach.
"Well maybe I'm dehydrated, Steve. You gonna let me die of thirst?" she quipped back, eyes blinking slowly revealing red rimmed irises.
"Then I'll get you a water, Robin," he hissed back, eyes narrowing at her. "But first let me make one single phone call, okay? You're not gonna die of thirst in three minutes."
"I might! I feel my cells disintegrating as we speak!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. You turned to look at her, mouth dropping open slight in horror.
"Disintegrating?" you repeated.
"Every moment that passes–POOF. Another mitochondria bites the dust," she confirmed, giving you a sad smile and a shrug.
"No–" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.
"That's terrible," you expressed, lips pouting and looking to Steve with an expression of alarm. "That's so sad."
"The saddest," she nodded again as Steve muttered an incredulous "Oh my god."
"We need to do something, Steve! Her mitochondria!"
"My mitochondria, Steve!" Robin echoed you, tone mocking as she smirked at him. Steve felt his headache growing steadily.
"Fine! Fine! I'll go get you a drink! Just stay on this fucking couch. Got it?" When neither of you protested, eyes flickering back and forth between your faces he added a strict Stay like you would a disobedient dog.
He hurried to find the house phone, knowing his timeframe was limited before the two of you wandered off in opposite directions, giving him another wild good chase to corral you together. It was late and he was tired and he desperately needed to call in some back up.
Punching in the numbers, Steve cast distasteful looks at the not so innocent sounds emanating from the bathroom adjacent from the landline. The phone rang for a while, making him fear no one was going to answer until finally the receiver picked up.
"Munson residence," the chirpy voice of Eddie Munson had Steve releasing a short-lived sigh of relief.
"Eddie, it's Steve," he said, pressing close to the wall to avoid two girls swaying dangerously and stumbling past him with mirroring green faces.
"Stevie! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Eddie seemed to be eating something as his words were slightly muffled.
"I need you to come get your girlfriend." He tried not to sound like he was begging even though that's exactly what he was doing.
There was shuffling on the line before Eddie's voice rang out clear, "She okay?"
Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's fine just plastered," he thought for a moment before adding with exasperation, "and like obsessed with card games. And really bad at them so she keeps losing and drinking more."
Eddie's charmed laugh sounded over the static of the receiver. Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Of course Eddie found anything you did endearing. You could insult Black Sabbath and he would still look at you like you put the stars in the sky. You had him completely under your enchantment.
"Just make sure she's not taking any," Eddie replied, his smile drenching his tone.
"Taking any what?"
"Card decks. She likes to collect them."
Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet. Then Eddie laughed again and Steve had to resist banging his head against the wall.
"Eddie. I'm begging you. Please, just, come pick her up," he said through clenched teeth.
It didn't take Eddie long to reach the house party. You had mentioned where you were going earlier that night, commenting that it wasn't too far from where Corroded Coffin was playing and that maybe he could stop by after. He had agreed under the impression that you would probably be home by the time he was finished because it was far later than you were usually out. So he had headed home thinking you were in bed until Steve had called.
And now he was weaving through a legion of drunk high schoolers, on his way to relieve a very stressed sounding Steve from his never-ending babysitter duties. You were sat on a couch, arms crossed as you glared at Steve and Robin endlessly bickering about something. When Steve saw him he called him over.
"I'm taking Robin home. Good luck with that one because she snuck another drink in when I wasn't looking," Steve grumbled, hooking his arm through Robin's as she whined at him.
"What if I don't want to go home," Robin shot at him, eye brows raising.
"I don't care. It's late and I'm tired so we're leaving," he stated, tugging her towards the door.
"You're not the governor of the universe, Steve."
Eddie watched their retreating forms before turning his attention back on you. Your gaze seemed far away as you looked forward, not seeming to have even noticed his presence. He took few steps towards you before sinking into the seat next to you.
"Hey, trouble," he said, reaching out a hand to brush softly against your cheek.
You pulled away like you had been burned and turned to give him a glare. He lost his breath for a moment, confused by the sudden hostility.
"Can you leave me alone?" Your voice was slurred but it didn't conceal the overt bite to your tone. He felt a bubble of hurt grow in his chest, hand dropping to his lap.
"You want me to leave you alone?" he echoed, slightly bewildered. Hours before coming here you were pouting at him for not being able to join, acting as though it would physically hurt you to be away from him for a night. And now, suddenly, you didn't want him here? Were you mad at him for abandoning you?"
"Yeah. I have a boyfriend, so, you can leave," you bit back. He blinked at you, digesting your words, before relaxing. Your glassy eyes gave no indication that you realized it was him. You weren't mad at him, you were mad at the thought of a random guy bothering you at this party. He couldn't conceal his grin.
"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" he asked, playing along as the tension eased from his body. He wanted to reach out and push your hair behind your ear but restrained himself.
"Eddie. Eddie Munson. And he'll beat you up if he finds out you're bothering me," you proclaimed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glared at him, or however many versions of him you were seeing with your blurred vision.
"He will, will he?" he felt giddy at your admission.
He had had moments in your year long relationship where he let his insecurity eat away at him. You were beautiful and kind and alluring. You unconsciously had people gravitating towards you and sometimes he worried that one day someone would turn your head and steal you away from him. But seeing you be so cold to someone even attempting to have a conversation with you, bringing him up immediately, had his heart selfishly warming.
"Yeah and he's on his way to come get me. So try your luck with someone else," you concluded, words slightly garbled as you gave him your best glare.
"How many drinks have you had, trouble?" he asked, laughing incredulously. Your steely glare hardened. You unfolded your arms to poke him harshly in the shoulder.
"You don't get to call me that. Only my boyfriend can call me that," you stated, poking him again for good measure. It didn't hurt him but he feigned pain anyway, hand flying to his shoulder as he sunk back like he was shot.
He opened his mouth to respond but suddenly you were clambering your way off the couch, form swaying as the alcohol in your system made your vision spin. Eddie was up next to you in an instant, gripping your elbows to steady you.
"Easy, sugar. Don't want you face planting," he murmured, trying to bit back his laugh. You halfheartedly swatted him away, making him remove his hands from you only to hover them behind you in case you started swaying again.
"I just told you not to touch me. I'll beat you up myself if I have to," you said, giving his shoulder a light shove that had you stumbling instead of it's intended affect. Eddie ghosted his hands behind your back as you righted yourself, eyes dancing over your flushed face and glazed eyes.
You marched away from him, dead set on avoiding him and finding something to do until your actual boyfriend showed up. Eddie followed behind you like a shadow, eyes alight in amusement as he waited for you to finally realize it was him. You were nearly oblivious to your surroundings, bumping into people, stumbling over loose cans littering the floor. He followed behind, one hand floating to press your back lightly when you wobbled and the other pressing bodies away so you could move easier through the crowd.
When you found the front door and burst out into the cool air of the autumn night, you whirled around to give your stalker a piece of your mind only to freeze when you noticed his wiry curls and amused smirk.
"Eddie!" you breathed, voice airy and light as you tumbled towards him, arms flying to wrap around his neck. He let out a boisterous laugh, arms snaking around your midsection as he squeezed you tight, lifting you slightly from the ground.
"Hi, pretty," he breathed, face nuzzling into your neck to leave a few searing kisses. You molded into him, body relaxing and contented sigh seeping through your smiling lips.
"Eddie, what took you so long! There was this annoying creep who wouldn't leave me alone," you whined, breathing in his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes. His chuckle vibrated into your neck making chills run up your spine. You pressed in tighter, addicted to his touch.
"Did you tell him to fuck off?" he asked, playing along, smirk widening as he pulled back, finally allowing himself to brush wild pieces of hair behind your ears.
"Told him I'd fight him," you replied and he gave you a bright grin.
"Good girl," he said, pinching your cheek lightly, before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You preened at the praise, stepping on tip toes to deepen the kiss that was making your head fuzzy. He smoothed both his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs resting on the apples of your cheeks, pecking your lips a few more times for good measure before he was reluctantly pulling back.
"Let's get you home, yeah, trouble?" You nodded, eager to go anywhere with him. He took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before tugging you in the direction of his truck.
The drive to your house was filled with you animatedly recounting the party to Eddie, who listened with a soft smile on his face. There were moments where your slightly slurred speech and foggy memory made your stories hard to follow but anytime you laughed he did too, your glee contagious and endearing. He had to scold himself to pay attention to the road a few times when he felt his gaze being reeled in like sailor to a siren.
When you arrived at your home, you handed him your bag claiming your keys were somewhere in its depth. He turned the ignition off, the both of you sitting in the car as the heat slowly seeped into the chill of the night. He opened your bag and let out an incredulous laugh. At least three decks of cards were shoved into your small purse, stolen from a fair few disgruntled partygoers who probably wouldn't have suspected you as the thief in the slightest.
"You're a menace, you know that?" he commented, pushing the decks to the side so he could reach for the set of keys glinting at the bottom of the bag. You pouted at him, no clue what he was referring to. He chuckled, leaning over the inner consul to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "A cute one, but a menace."
"C'mon. Let get you inside," he said, unlocking the doors. You were nearly putting all of your weight on him as you headed to the front door of your house, body slung around him like a backpack. He had one arm wrapped around your back, pressing kisses to the top of your head every few steps, your bag looped over his shoulder.
As he fumbled with the lock, keys rattling against the metal of the doorknob, you mumbled something about your family being away when he winced at the noise he was making. And once you were inside, door shut behind you, he flicked on a few switches, lighting up the empty house. He dropped your bag and keys on the small table by the door before turning towards you.
With both arms wrapping around you, he bent slightly, his hands moving to cradle the backs of your thighs.
"Up," he commanded. You jumped, letting him hoist you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck, legs hooking his waist.
"'M, tired," you mumbled into his shoulder. His chest vibrated as he chuckled, taking cautious steps up towards the second floor.
"I bet. It's nearly two," he replied and you humphed in response. When he made it to your room, he slowly released his hold on you, letting you slide down until your feet touched the ground. You whined against him, not liking the idea of not being completely wrapped up in him.
"Need to get you ready for bed, sugar," he said, reaching around behind his neck to pry your arms away. You whined again but had little strength to resist him. He nudged you forward until the backs of your legs met your bed, causing you to reluctantly sit down, the mattress dipping slightly.
He crouched down so he could rest his weight on his knees, the carpet of your floor cushioning them. You were blinking slowly down at him like you were fighting against sleep. Hand wrapping around your ankle, he undid the laces and slipped off your sneaker, dropping it to the side. He repeated the action with your other shoe.
"I'm gonna get you something to change into, okay?" he said, pushing up from the floor. He kicked off his own shoes next to yours, pulling off his vest and then his jacket, draping them over your desk chair.
Your room was yards cleaner than his own and starkly different. Remnants of your childhood were woven together with band and movie posters, shelves of books, and colorful post-its and polaroids taped to your mirror. He spotted his face in many of them, heart warming each time he noticed yet another one of him you managed to find room for.
He headed for your dresser, pulling drawers open at random trying to find something for you to sleep in. His cheeks warmed at the drawer of underwear he yanked open, the pretty pastels and swirling lace making him swallow harshly. He wasn't here to be creepy he was here to be a doting boyfriend. He opened a few more until he found one of his shirts he thought he had misplaced. Menace, he thought.
When he turned around you had already begun slipping off your pants, kicking around until they flew off your ankles. He walked over to you as you were pulling your shirt over your head. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes trailed down the straps of your bra to the curves of your chest, heat rising on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he chided himself. Now was not the time for that. He heard you undo your bra and kept his gaze on your sleepy eyes as he handed you the black T-shirt. You slipped it on without protest.
"Alright, now to the bathroom," he said, patting the side of your bare thigh.
"But I'm tired," you groaned, wrinkling your nose at the idea of exerting more energy.
"I know, trouble, but you still have your makeup on," he said, leaning over to take your hand in his. He held his other one out and you reluctantly grabbed it, letting him pull you up. He maneuvered the both of you into the bathroom. You wobbled against him, eyes squinting shut at the harshness of the overhead light. He let go of your hands to slide them to the sides of your ribcage. Then he lifted you so you were sat on the counter besides the sink.
“Okay, sleepyhead, I need you to direct me through your night routine,” he said, rubbing his hand on the side of your neck. You looked at him through bleary eyes before looking down at the counter. An assortment of bottles and serums and tubs of cream littered the expanse of the white laminate. You blinked heavily before pointing at one.
“That’s makeup remover,” you said as a yawn over took you. He picked it up, unscrewing the top and then staring blankly at you.
“Do I . . . use my hand?” he asked innocently. You giggled softly, leaning back to rest against the wall.
“No, silly. A cotton pad,” you replied, waving your hand in the direction of the cabinet. He found them, dropping a few as he struggled with the zip lock, before pulling one out. He tipped the clear liquid from the bottle, soaking the cotton pad before turning back to you.
“Eyes shut,” he ordered, stepping closer so your legs parted for his thighs. You followed his instructions, eyes fluttering shut as he brought the pad to your face.
Eddie was nothing if not gently when it came to you. The damp cotton brushed softly over your eyelids, over your eyebrows, down your temples, trailing your jaw, over your lips, and in circles on your cheeks. He could tell you were dozing, needing to move his other hand to frame your jaw so your head wouldn’t lull to the side.
Dropping the dirtied cotton pad in the trash, he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it under the tap. It was warm when he brought it to your face, the stitched loops of the towel swirling around as he wet the skin. Dropping it down, he scanned the array of bottles until he found one clearly labelled face wash. He squeezed probably too much onto his palms before moving to massage it around your face. The gel foaming as he circulated his fingers, tender movements nearly putting you to sleep. Your eyes blinked open, finding his focused on his movements, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. A balloon of affection blossomed in your chest.
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like cat. His movements slowed as heat rushed to his cheeks at your words.
“Well you’re my favorite person in the whole universe,” he said back, moving to rinse the face wash from his hands. He re-wet the small towel and moved to wipe your face down. You pouted at him.
“That’s not fair. I can’t go any bigger than the universe,” you grumbled, unhappy that he outdid you so quickly. He let out an endeared laugh, hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he wiped the foam from your face.
“I don’t play fair, baby. Not when it comes to professing my undying love to you,” he said making you wrinkle your nose. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips.
“I missed you tonight,” you confessed as he finished cleaning your face. He rinsed the towel in the sink before turning to look at you. Your head was resting against the wall, eyes half lidded in fatigue but glinting prettily under your lashes. He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his breath stalling for a moment at your effortless beauty.
“I always miss you when you’re not around,” you added. He moved to face you, chest coiling in unbridled affection, hands moving to cage your face in. He swiped his thumbs under your eyes, the soft skin glittering from the water.
“Wish I could be with you 24/7 but I don’t want you to get sick of me,” you continued, eyes fluttering up at him. He thought you might really kill him.
“Not even in an alternate dimension could I get sick of you. Not even in a hypothetical scenario. Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied, moving closer until your noses were almost touching. Your hands snaked around his torso, tugging him closer, bunching up the back of his shirt.
“If you’ll have me I’ll probably be up your ass until the end of time,” he added, making a peel of giggles erupt from you. His eyes squinted as he smiled, leaning in to press his lips to yours, your giggles dissolving into his affection.
“Now, no more being cute until we’re done with this,” he said after pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your swollen lips chased his to steel another, then another before he was squeezing your sides, making you squirm and laugh as he pulled away.
You leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping as he continued, grabbing your moisturizer and spinning open the cap. He repeated his gentle motions over your face, swiping softly around your eyes and smoothing any tension from your face.
“Brush,” you blinked your eyes open noticing him holding out your toothbrush, toothpaste already sitting on the bristles. Your movements were sluggish but you managed, leaning over to spit in the sink before he was handing you a cup of water to rinse.
You were both quiet for a moment. He watched as you leaned your head back, eyes shut. His hands trailed the sides of your thighs, brushing the skin, squeezing slightly, warming them and making goosebumps appear. His eyes danced around your face, taking in your peaceful features. You were breathtaking even when on the edge of sleep. He was completely enamored with you. He never thought someone could have him so enchanted that he would be taking their makeup off before bed and making sure they brushed their teeth but you had sent him one dazzling smile and he was lost in a sea of desire to take care of you for as long as he lived.
“Alright, ready for bed?” he asked, affectionately brushing his thumbs on the tops of your thighs. You nodded, slumping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. He tugged you forward, hands slinking under your thighs to pull you up into his arms.
He laid you gently on your bed, pulling the covers down so you could slip your legs in until he was moving the duvet up over you. He wandered back over to your dresser, digging back into the bottom drawer where he knew a treasure trove of his clothes was hidden, never to be seen in his closet again. He slipped off his pants and then shirt, pulling on an old Van Halen T-shirt, the ratty edges brushing against the waistline of his boxers. 
"You're staying, right?" your sleepy voice rang out from the bed. He kicked his pile of clothes to the side, knowing you were going to chide him for it tomorrow.
"Wouldn't dream of leaving," he answered, pulling off his rings, the silver clanking as he dropped them on your desk. 
He hurried to shut the lights off before he was crawling in beside you, finding your sleepy body in the dark and pulling you into him. You let out a contented sigh, warm breath tickling his neck, making him pull you in even tighter.
He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Nothing seemed to compare to finally being in your arms, breathing in the smell of your perfume and feeling the smoothness of your skin. His lips traced your hairline, leaving soft honeyed kisses around your forehead and down over your eyelids. You smiled into the darkness, tilting your face up in a silent beg for more. He kissed your nose, his eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks.
"Love you," you whispered, melting against him and his warm lips. You felt him smile against your cheek.
"Love you more," he whispered back, a kiss following his admiration.
“Love you times a million,” you added, hoping finally to win a battle of affection.
“Love you times infinity,” he replied. You let out a whine at him one-upping you yet again but he just chuckled in fondness, teeth nipping at the plumpness of your cheek until he was seeking out your lips again, to press a dozen more kisses until you inevitably fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming about him and his big brown eyes and warm kisses and how very very lucky you were.
Link to my masterlist :)
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joelmillerisapunk · 1 month
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Free Use, Full Plate
Joel Miller x F!Reader
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Masterlist
Wordcount: 1,741
Summary: Joel's frustrated after a long day at work and takes it out on your pussy. Basically just pwp
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, assplay, fingering, f!oral receiving, consentual freeuse, breeding & house wife kink, food waste, reader has hair, breasts, and wears yoga pants. Joel calls reader sexy momma.
Notes: Just a life I wanna live, tysm to everyone who voted in this poll this was the winning vote. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider.
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Joel walks through the front door, tired and frustrated after a long day of work. The smell of dinner cooking fills the air, and he sees you bent over, grabbing a pot, your shirt riding up, revealing the small of your back.
You've had an agreement for a while now - free use, where Joel can take what he needs without any hesitation or resistance from you. It's a release for him, a way to let go of the frustrations of the day without taking them out on anything or anyone else.
As he approaches you, he can feel the tension in his body begin to ease. He reaches out and runs his hand over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. You don't stop what you're doing, but he can hear your breathing quicken as he continues to touch you.
He pulls your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare back. He leans down and presses his lips to your skin, feeling you shiver beneath his touch. He unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the floor.
As he cups your breasts in his hands, he can feel himself getting harder. He moves closer, pressing himself against you as he continues to touch you. You're still cooking, but he can hear the soft moans escaping your lips as he kneads your flesh.
He reaches down and undoes his pants, freeing his cock. He slides it between your legs, feeling the heat of your body through your stretchy yoga pants. No matter what was agreed upon Joel never pressured you to dress or look a certain way and it made you feel much more confident in yourself and your relationship. He rocks his hips back and forth, letting himself enjoy the sensation of touching you, even if it's just through your clothing.
“Mmm, Joel, you're home," you say, looking over your shoulder at him with a smile. "How was your day, my love?"
He doesn't answer right away, instead focusing on the feeling of your body against his. He can feel the heat of your pussy through your pants, and he presses himself against you harder, grinding his hips in slow circles.
“Don't wanna think about it. Just tell me what you're makin' baby," he finally says, his voice weak with desire. He slides his hands down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants. He pulls them down, exposing your bare ass. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, getting on his knees and pushing his face right in there, taking the globes of your ass and making them jiggle onto his cheeks.
You giggle at the feeling, but you can't help feeling aroused as his large nose hits some of your folds as he shoves his face in as deep as he can, almost like he wants to suffocate the bad day away. "Just pasta," you reply, focusing on stirring the sauce so it doesn't burn.
He finally stands up and replies, "Smells delicious baby, just like you." he says, leaning down to press his nose into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your sent. “Mmm fuckin’ heaven.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him as he continues to grind his hips.
You let out a soft moan as he nips at your shoulder. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his touch, but you try your best not to let dinner burn. He reaches down and slides a finger inside you, feeling how wet you are. He groans at the sensation.
"Joel," you say, your voice trembling with pleasure. "I'm almost ready to serve dinner."
"That's alright, love," he says, his voice strained with desire. "I can wait."
You turn around in his embrace to kiss him, but he stops you, his eyes darkening. He pats the countertop beside the stove. "C'mon, get up here darlin'."
"But the food." You point at the pan.
"You know, I could eat this whole dinner and still not be satiated in the right way. Now get on the damn counter, you sexy momma. Gonna fill you up real good.”
With those words, you scramble to the other side of the stove, sitting on the countertop. He starts rubbing his hands across your naked thighs, slowly working his way up until his hands reach the center of your chest.
“Come closer, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Wanna taste you.” He leans close then lowers his head and bites the tip of your nipple. Your nipples start to erect instantly, and your core feels tight. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He gets lower so his face is right between your legs.
Your stomach clenches as he kisses your inner thigh. “Joel…”
His eyes look up into yours. He pulls his mouth away just enough from your skin so he can talk, "Worry 'bout the sauce, I'm busy havin' my appetizer." His tongue swipes your clit, licking it gently before he begins sucking on the skin. You let out a soft sigh when his warm tongue touches your clit once more. You try to tend to the dinner currently cooking but it's near impossible to do so with him rubbing and sucking at you. “Keep stirring," he adds with a playful smirk. He slips two fingers between your legs, sliding them into your folds and circling one slowly before he plunges two more in. He starts moving faster. Your orgasm starts building in your belly.
"Mmmm, Joel..." you whine, grabbing onto the edge of the counter, digging your nails into the wooden surface. "I'm gonna come…" You start thrusting against his hand.
Joel stands up, not letting you finish and takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby, I'm the luckiest man," he says, his voice loaded with desire. He reaches out and runs his hand over your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.
You gasp at the sensation, your body already on edge from his earlier ministrations. "Joel, I need to finish dinner," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.
"I know, darlin," he says, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs. He starts rubbing your clit in slow circles, making you moan with pleasure. "I won't let you burn it."
He helps you off the counter and turns you around so you're facing the stove, your naked ass pressed against his hips. He reaches around you and grabs a pan of garlic bread, placing it in the oven. "Now, let's get back to work," he says, his voice low and seductive.
He slides his cock between your legs, the head of his shaft pressing against your wet folds. He starts rocking his hips back and forth until he slides inside you, fucking you slowly and deeply. "Keep stirring, baby," he says, his lips pressed against your ear.
You cry out as he hits that sweet spot inside you, your body trembling with pleasure. "Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp, your fingers tightening around the spoon.
"Not yet," he commands, his hand reaching around to rub your clit.
He starts fucking you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You can feel yourself getting close, your orgasm building deep in your belly. "Joel, please," you beg, your voice trembling.
He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling your head back so he can kiss your neck. "Uh-uh, you wait till I say so," he growls, his teeth scraping against your skin.
Joel continues to thrust into you, his pace steady and relentless. You can feel your orgasm right on the brink, your body feels like it might explode "Joel, please," you whimper, your fingers tightening around the spoon you were supposed to be stiring the sauce with. "Joel, I can't, m'gonna come please," you gasp, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
“Yes you can, baby just a little more,” he says, pulling your hair and kissing the side of your head, holding onto you tightly. “Wanna fill you up, make you round and beautiful.” He slams into you, his balls hitting your ass. You feel juices dripping from his length, mixing in with your own fluids as they drip down your leg and onto the floor. He pushes his hips in harder and harder, causing you to cry out as you feel the intensity of his hard, thick flesh hitting your walls.
You can feel your heart racing as well, your mind clouded with lust and pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh god, Joel,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the edge of the countertop for dear life as you feel your climax building. “Oh Joel! I'm coming'!" You cry out as your body convulses against him. You hear him release a long, loud, gutteral moan, releasing into you.
As you come down from your high, he presses his forehead against your shoulder, breathing hard as he lets go of your hips. He finally pulls out, his cock glistening, soaked with your juices. He turns you around pulling you in close. "I think dinner's ready," he says, smirking.
You laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, "I think you're right," you say, your hands running over his chest. You open the oven door to be met with disappointment. The garlic bread is burnt to a crisp, and so is the sauce.
Joel walks up behind you, "you orderin' or am I?"
You both can't help but chuckle at the situation and decide to order pizza, knowing it's a quick and easy solution. Joel wraps his arms around you as he gives you his phone to search for a local pizza place online, placing the order together.
Once the order is placed, you turn around in his arms, looking up at him playfully pouting, "I guess we'll have to settle for pizza tonight."
Joel leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering, "I'd eat pizza every night if it meant I could come home to you like this."
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hellenhighwater · 2 months
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Mildly weird question for story research purposes: when your cats ride on your shoulder, what does it feel like for you?
Context: My main character has a cat who likes to ride around on her shoulder, and since it's a thing that happens frequently, I'm trying to make sure I write about it well. And, unfortunately, I do not have a cat to even attempt to test it with, so I'm going to the one person I KNOW has experience with this situation.
Specific things that would be helpful to know:
Do you have to be careful not to upset their balance, or can you more or less walk normally once they're up there?
How are they keeping themselves up there? Are there claws involved? Or just good balance?
Where's most of their weight? I looked back at some pictures/vids, and it looks like they typically ride with their front paws on the shoulder and their back paws somewhere a bit below and beside your neck, but I could be wrong.
How long can they stay on your shoulder before one of you has to take a break? Is the weight of the cat tiring, or is it pretty easy to deal with?
Anything else I should be aware of regarding shoulder cats?
Thank you SO MUCH for your help!
Oh, I can definitely answer that! One: It's waaay easier to shoulder a small cat than a big one.
For the most part, they kind of drape themselves over the shoulder; this is specifically what I've trained them to do. Cats will also "shoulder" by draping across both shoulders/back of neck, but this forces your head forward to allow room for them, and it's not comfy. Hence the trained posture. (Malice, in the early days:)
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I taught Mal to jump up when I bent forward for her, and circle to face front while I stood up. She can actually do that pretty quickly. Their weight is pretty evenly distributed across the top of the shoulder and down on the pectoral, not really on the back at all. Mal sometimes hooks her back claws into my shirt near the shoulderblade, which is more about balance than weight support. Nim, who was significantly smaller, actually kept her back feet tucked up so that her feet were on the top of my shoulder. This is a significantly more ready posture than Mal's--she would have to readjust for a better foothold to jump down; Nim could leap directly off at a moment's notice. Overall, Nim had far superior shouldering skills to Mal. Malice rides like the meatball she is; I'm hoping she'll learn with age. Here's some pictures of Nim:
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To give them a stable position, I do keep my back straight and shoulders back; if I have to pick something up, I will crouch down instead of bending over. If I have to bend forwards, I will put my palm up flat so that they can stand with their front paws on it and keep their body on my shoulder. Generally, I can move, walk, and even work normally. I've cooked, painted, done chores, even run. Both hands are free to use, though generally you can't lift the arm the cat is on above a T position. They don't need to use their claws for balance unless I am doing something really active. I do shoulder almost exclusively on my left shoulder, so that my dominant hand is more free.
The weight is not significant--Nim was only about 8 lbs, Mal is about 11, and because there's no grip to maintain them and they're naturally situated on the shoulder, it's easy to carry them for a long time. I used to walk miles with Nim on my shoulder. It's actually more the heat--cats run hot, and it's a lot of fur on your neck and shoulder if it's warm out. Great in the winter, though!
Notable things you might not realize--their head is in front of yours, so you can still see ear positions, what they're looking at, etc. Nim's night vision/hearing/sense of smell was better than mine, so I could tell if we were sneaking on wildlife based on her reactions and responses to things. You can also feel them tense or adjust posture before they jump or try to get down, and you can feel their tail moving. You can also feel if they're growling or purring, even if you can't hear it. If you're used to paying attention to those cues, you'll notice them while just carrying the cat normally too--Nobody could sneak up behind me if I was carrying Nim facing over my shoulder to the back.
They can jump from shoulder height but it's a hard landing. Usually if I want them down, I just kneel with a knee up, or lift a leg flat while standing so they can jump to the top of my leg and then to the ground.
If I was in a fictional setting and traveling with them long term, I would be investing in a really weird piece of leather armor, that goes to the edge of the neck/crest of shoulder, and down past the bottom of the shoulderblade, with little easy-to-grip leather loops or chainmail on the back of the shoulder.
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luveline · 11 months
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spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below
please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k
tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 
You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 
He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 
"Something looks wrong." 
You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 
"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 
He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 
"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 
"Gabs?" he asks. 
"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 
You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 
"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 
"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 
"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 
"Am I being weird?" he asks.
"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 
"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 
"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 
You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 
"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 
"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 
"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 
Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 
"Hm?" you hum in question. 
Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 
The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 
"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 
Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.
It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 
"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.
He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.
"Was it scary?" 
"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 
"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 
"Yeah, he did." 
"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 
"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 
You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 
You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 
You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 
"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 
"She's in her room. Call her." 
You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 
"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 
You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 
"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 
"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 
He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 
"Woah, careful." 
"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 
"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 
Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  
"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 
"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 
Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 
"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 
"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 
You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 
"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 
She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 
"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 
Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.
"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 
"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 
Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 
She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 
Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 
"What?" he asks.
"You're not doing the thing." 
"The thing?" 
You frown. 
"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 
He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 
He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 
Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 
"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 
He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 
When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 
You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 
"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 
"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 
"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 
"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 
"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 
You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 
Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 
"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 
His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 
"For what?" You blink. 
"I don't know." 
You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 
He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 
"You're really something special," he says quietly. 
"How so?" 
His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 
"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 
"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 
You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 
"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 
"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 
"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  
"I must have some good luck," he says. 
His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 
You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 
"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 
Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 
It's not a bad kiss. 
You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 
The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 
"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 
He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 
"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 
"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 
He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 
You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!
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churipu · 4 months
Note
hii i noticed your reqs are open, if you dont mind can you do a pt 2 to jjk men vs their gf's plushie collection? with geto, choso and nanami :) thank youu
JJK MEN VS THEIR GF'S PLUSHIE COLLECTION
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featuring. geto suguru, choso kamo, nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. none
note. ooooo anon, the first part of this got a lot of love and i was actually contemplating on making a second part for it, so thank you for requesting <33 tbh if anyone messes with my plushie as a plushie collector, i will throw hands.
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GETO SUGURU. for the first few months after he finds out about your plushie collection — the male actually doesn't mind it at all, in fact, he contributed in adding soldiers to the collection. but as time goes by, he began regretting it (just a teeny tiny bit) because he realizes that these plushies are close to stealing his spot as a partner.
"angel." he calls out to you in annoyance, his hand reaching out to grab circle around your ankle.
his mouth was full of distaste, he wanted to throw away those plushies from your embrace — he grabbed your ankle, pulling your body towards him with an angry grunt, "com'ere." he mutters out.
"sugu, what's wrong with you?" you ask him, blinking in confusion to what has gotten him in such a sour mood.
"that." he points at the plushie in your arms, "i don't like him." he snatches the plushie away, glaring at it.
"are you jealous of it?" you sang out happily, throwing your arms around his neck.
"i'm going to say it once, yes, 'm jealous of it. i'm not buying you anymore because why are they getting more attention than i am? are they the boyfriend?" he sputters out, looking away, avoiding your gaze.
you laugh lightly, grabbing his jaw to make him face you and kissed him shortly, "you could've just said so, you big baby."
CHOSO. is so confused, what did you find so entrancing about characters filled with cotton when you had a real life plushie by your side? (talking about him, by the way).
he didn't understand the feelings that were burning in him, but he didn't like it. not one bit. it was the kind of feeling where he'd want to use his technique on your plump plushies — but choso knew that you wouldn't like that so he has never done it.
when you're both home, the male trails around behind you like a lost puppy. very much confused to why the plushie was in your arms instead of him, but couldn't bring the heart to say it to you so he ends up just placing himself beside you on the couch, on the bed, wherever.
"cho, why are you looking at me? do you need anything?" choso was surprised at your sudden question, yes he was looking at you, precisely at the plushie squished in between your arms.
he shook his head and faced forwards, before you know it, his head turns to you again for a long time. eyes narrowed and lips puckered out, "i don't like this feeling," he mutters out.
you turn to him, "what feeling?"
"like i want to punch that in the face," he points at the dragon plushie in between your arms, and you burst out laughing.
"are you actually jealous of my plushie?" you put the plushie aside and opened your arms as an invitation for him, "why didn't you say so, hm?"
he didn't answer you and just dropped his weight into your embrace, burying his head into your shoulder, "because you like them."
you kissed the crown of his head, "but i love you."
NANAMI KENTO. he actually doesn't mind you having a collection at all — the thing he minds it when you pamper them instead of pampering him. nanami doesn't get in bad moods easily, but when it comes to you giving attention to your plushies first instead of him, he gets pretty upset.
working late was a total bum to you (to anyone else really), and coming home — nanami was ready to give you love, but when you greet him with a simple "hello" before running to the room to grab your favorite plushie out of the collection, he didn't know why; but he felt like he was actually losing to a whole non-living object.
and it actually made him upset.
"ken, why are you being awfully silent?" you jumped onto the couch where he was sitting at, the same plushie still in your arms.
the male stares at you for a bit before looking back towards the television — and you by now were worried, had you done anything wrong? or did something happen in his work place?
nanami wouldn't even admit it, because he knew if he admitted that he was jealous; he'd never hear the end of it. even if it was from you.
you tugged on his shirt, "did i do anything wrong?" oh, god, of course you didn't — but just the fact that you're asking him that made him feel guilty, so the male sighed, pulling your body close before shaking his head.
he grabs the plushie and throws it aside before pulling you into a hug, not breaking a word. he just hugs you in silence, not that you were complaining, "ken, did something happen?"
"i'm a little upset."
"can you tell me why?"
"you come home and go to your plushie? when i was the one waiting for you? i didn't even get a hug or a kiss," he mumbles out into your hair, and you lightly laugh, rubbing your hand on his back.
"so you're jealous?"
"no. i'm upset."
yes, yes. he was upset.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
Text
count on us * fem!driver
she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing
notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.
he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.
he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.
in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.
“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.
until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”
“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”
“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”
max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”
“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.
he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.
he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.
not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.
not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.
which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.
he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.
the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”
“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”
“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”
“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”
she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”
“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”
she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”
sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”
“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”
he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”
“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.
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oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”
sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”
“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”
“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”
“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”
“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”
“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”
“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”
“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”
“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”
“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”
“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”
“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”
“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”
oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”
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“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.
the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.
“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.
“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“
oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”
she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”
logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”
“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”
“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”
“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”
“oh, mine too.”
“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”
the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.
so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”
“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.
“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”
“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.
“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”
“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”
“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”
“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”
she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.
oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”
“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”
“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”
“really? what tiktok did i send last?”
“that one edit about that banana cat!”
“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”
“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”
“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”
she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”
“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”
“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”
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she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.
“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.
the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?
“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”
“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.
“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”
“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.
they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.
that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.
“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.
max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”
“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”
“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”
she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”
max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”
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yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.
“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”
“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.
“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.
he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.
“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”
there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”
yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.
when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”
so he smiles back. “hi.”
and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.
he never actually expected to be the one who find out.
“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”
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“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”
she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.
“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”
“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”
“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”
“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”
“i-“
“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”
“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”
tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.
initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.
suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.
her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.
“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”
she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”
she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”
“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.
“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”
she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.
“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”
oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”
“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”
she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”
max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”
“i know, but-“
“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”
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“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.
“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”
“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”
“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”
“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”
“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”
“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”
“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.
he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.
“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”
“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.
“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”
he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”
“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”
“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”
max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”
“like how?”
“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”
“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”
“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.
“oscar-“
logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.
“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.
“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”
“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”
“say bet?”
“bet.”
“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”
“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”
“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”
max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”
“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”
“fine, but-“
“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”
“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”
“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”
“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”
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she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”
“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.
“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”
“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”
she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”
“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”
“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”
“maybe let’s not go that far.”
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2K notes · View notes
hazbinwhoree · 3 months
Note
Hello! I hope I'm not bothering you or anything! But I've been lurking on your blog for quite a bit now lol. If it's okay, can I request a jealous! Adam x Reader? If you're feeling generous, maybe make it a bit smutty? The Reader can be an angel, sinner or hellborn. The story is completely up to you!
Jealousy, Jealousy
A/N: I left it vague so the reader can be angel, sinner, or hellborn, it’s up to you reader!
Warnings: Slight breeding kink
Adam was seething. He watched Michael and (Name) interact, Michael clearly flirting if his facial expressions and body language were anything to go by. Adam had left her alone for two minutes and Michael swooped in. He quickly decided he’d seen enough and barged into the conversation.
“Shitface,” he greeted Michael, putting a possessive hand on (Name)’s waist and pulling her into him. Michael soured. “Adam,” he greeted tightly. “We have places to be,” Adam announced. “Later, Mikey.” He tugged (Name) away.
With her hand in his, Adam led (Name) swiftly to his home, and as soon as they were inside, he was slamming (Name) up against the wall.
“Adam!” she gasped. “What’s gotten into you?”
“You letting Michael carry on even though he clearly wanted to fuck you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He was fucking flirting with you, (Name).”
“Oh… does that mean you’re jealous?”
Adam didn’t answer with words. Instead he growled and buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting his marks onto her. (Name) moaned. Adam pulled back just to lift her up by the ass, her legs locking around his waist. Then he continued the assault on her neck. (Name) felt heat rush to her core. She liked this possessive side of Adam.
“He wanted to fuck you,” Adam hissed against her neck. “But I’m the only one who can fuck you.” (Name) shuddered.
Adam had never been more grateful for skirts, tugging (Name)’s up to bunch around her stomach, revealing her panties. He ripped those without a care, and (Name) whined, “I liked that pair.” “I’ll buy you a new one, shut up.”
(Name) was really enjoying this. She should make Adam jealous more often.
Suddenly Adam was lifting her up the wall until her crotch was at his face. She threw her legs over his shoulders. Adam held her up against the wall as he leaned forward and began eating her out like it was his last meal. (Name) cried out and grabbed onto his horns.
His skilled tongue went up and down a few times before circling her clit, and then he began to fuck her with it. Adam had a long tongue, and (Name) had never been more grateful for it as she held onto him for dear life.
Adam’s tongue circled her clit again, and (Name) was quickly nearing the edge. Adam knew her well enough to recognize when she was close, and to her dismay, he pulled back and tapped her legs. She reluctantly slid them off his shoulders and let herself slide down the wall until she and Adam were face to face again.
He slammed his lips against hers and (Name) moaned when she could taste herself on him. It was absolutely sinful.
Adam disconnected their lips and put (Name) on the ground. She leaned heavily against the wall, her legs shaky. Adam shed his robe and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his dick.
He grabbed (Name) under her arms and lifted her back up against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he lined himself up before abruptly thrusting up into her. (Name) cried out, nearly choking Adam with how tight she held onto him.
Adam couldn’t care less, beginning to thrust at an absolutely brutal pace. She was positioned just so that with every thrust her clit rubbed against his pubic bone.
“Fuck, Adam,” she moaned.
“You’re mine, you hear me?” Adam panted. “Michael wishes he could have you like this, but he could never satisfy you like I can.”
(Name) blushed. “You like that, slut? You like when I talk to you while I fuck you?”
(Name) swallowed her pride and nodded.
“Good, because you need to know that you’re mine, I fucking own you. No one else can fuck you this good. The next time I catch you letting Michael flirt with you, I’m fucking you in front of him.”
(Name) moaned unabashedly.
Adam groaned, getting close. He could tell (Name) was getting close too, and he kept his pace steady and hard. “I’m gonna cum in you while you cum on my dick. Gonna put a fucking baby in you. Then everyone will know who you belong to.”
That pushed (Name) over the edge and she came with a cry. Her pussy tightened around Adam and that was all it took for him to cum as well. He pushed (Name) down on his dick while simultaneously thrusting upwards, cumming deep inside of her.
They stayed like that for a minute, panting and catching their breaths.
“Fuck, Adam, that was–” “Fantastic, I know.” The cocky bastard.
Adam was going to set (Name) back on the floor, but by the way her legs were shaking, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand. So he pulled out, smirking when some of his cum dripped down her thigh and onto the floor.
He carried her over to the bed and gently placed her down on it. “Wait here.” He went to grab a towel.
As he carefully cleaned her up after cleaning himself, (Name) stared at him with an indiscernible expression. “What?” Adam asked.
“I should get you jealous more often.”
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cutielando · 5 months
Text
stay with me ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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"Don't come home"
Those words were echoing in Rafe's mind as he walked by the side of the road towards your house.
He had never seen eye to eye with his father, but he didn't think things would get so out of hand as to get himself kicked out.
He put his hand in his back pocket and took out his phone, smiling a little at the photo on his screen. It was one of the two of you at Midsummers, embracing each other and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.
He scrolled down until he found your contact and pressed his phone against his ear, praying that you would still be awake.
"Babe?" you answered the phone, making Rafe let out a sigh of relief.
"It's so good to hear your voice, baby" he exclaimed, tears clouding his eyes.
He tried hard not to break down over the phone, but it was getting harder and harder.
"What's wrong, babe? Is everything okay?" you knew he wouldn't call this late unless something happened.
"I'm 5 minutes away from your house? Can I stay the night?" his voice was shaky, but he prayed that you didn't question him on it.
"Of course you can. I'll make you something to eat"
"Thank you. I love you"
"I love you too, bub"
He ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket before holding his head in his hands.
Hearing your voice was all he needed in that moment. He needed to hear that you were still there with him, that you didn't turn your back on him like his father just did not even an hour before.
Rafe snapped out of his daze only when he found himself standing in front of your house, seeing the light on in your bedroom and kitchen.
Before he could even knock on the door you opened it, standing there with the most sympathetic look you could muster.
"Oh, baby. Come here" you said and extended your arms.
Rafe didn't hesitate to step into your warm and familiar embrace, immediately burying his face into your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.
You brought your hand up to his hair while the other traced soothing circles on his back.
"Shh, you're okay now, you're safe with me" you whispered in his ear, making him completely break down.
You could feel him shake as sobs racked through his body, making your heart shatter for the boy in your arms.
You knew it had something to do with his father, it was always the case. However, you didn't push him to talk. You knew that he would tell you everything when he's ready.
After holding each other for a good 10 minutes, his sniffles had subsided and he finally stepped out of your arms, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore" he whispered, avoiding eye contact with you.
You took his face in your arms and looked him right in the eyes.
"Never apologize for being vulnerable around me. It's not something to be ashamed of"
He bit his lip but nodded, leaning down and pecking your lips.
"Can we go eat? I haven't had anything since yesterday night" he whispered, making you smile and take his hand.
You lead him into your kitchen where you prepared warm sandwiches for both of you, knowing how much Rafe liked them.
He groaned at the sight and immediately dove in, making you chuckle and kiss his head.
You took a seat next to him and started eating silently, watching him intently.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" you asked softly once he finished eating.
He sighed and hung his head low.
"We got into an argument, I don't even remember what it was about. We both said some things, but I guess he just didn't want to bother anymore so he told me to leave and never come back home" he explained, his eyes welling up with tears once again.
"Oh, baby" you got up and enveloped him in your arms, rubbing his back.
He sniffled and buried his head in your chest, holding you tightly to his body.
You knew from the beginning what a piece of shit Ward Cameron was, but you never expected him to kick out his own son. That was low, even for him.
"You're going to stay here with me. My parents already love you and they know how your situation is. They will love having you around all the time" you said as you pulled away and held the sides of his face.
"I don't want to intrude and be a bother" 
"You're not intruding on anything. If anything, you're bringing some light in this house. It's boring when my parents are at work, you're going to save me from boredom. Plus, we get to spend every minute with each other, so that's just another bonus" you explained, smiling when you noticed his eyes twinkling and his lips curve into a small smile.
"You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, baby" he leaned up and pecked your lips, making you smile against his lips.
"I'm going to head over to your house tomorrow and pick up all your clothes and anything else you might need. I don't want you to ever have to step foot in that house again"
"You don't have to do that, I can go and take my stuff by myself" he tried to reason with you, but you were having none of it.
You wouldn't risk another encounter with his father which could very easily turn violent.
"No, I'm going. He's not going to say anything to me because he knows I will not back down"
He sighed but nodded, his expression finally softening.
"I love you. Don't ever forget that" you whispered, rubbing your thumb along his cheek.
"I love you, too. So much"
As your lips met once again, you two were starting a new chapter together. Another part of your story was beginning.
And you couldn't be more grateful.
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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months
Note
Idk if this is too broad of a scope for this blog, but if you could answer this, it'd be great.
I've been in a writing rut since I started getting serious about writing, and I've identified the issue in the past month or so: I slant heavily on the gardener end of the writing spectrum and all the advice on writing I've ever seen was for architect-style writing. Not once in the eight years I've been serious about writing did I find any guides on gardener-style writing (and if it says it's gardener-style, it'sreally just architect-style with gardner aspects), and my experience has just been more or less jamming a square peg into a circle hole, getting nothing written and feeling bad about it.
Now I'm unlearning all the architect-style habits that are destructive to me as a writer, but I can't find any resources for gardeners aside from Stephen King's On Writing. If you or any of your followers know how to help a gardener's writing, that would be great. I have so many fic ideas I want to write, but can't since I'm learning to write all over again.
For those who don't know what gardener and architect refer to when it comes to writers, a gardener is a writer who starts with the seed of an idea and lets it grow in whatever direction the light shines. They prune it and weed it as they go but otherwise let the idea lead the way. An architect, on the other hand, plans their stories out first and then writes them. They have a structure and the details all mapped out first and then the writing is just executing on that vision.
As a gardener myself, my biggest piece of advice is to avoid writing advice. Like you've said, the majority of it is aimed at people who do things like plan and plot and worldbuild ahead of time. Because of the structure that that writing style enjoys, providing "one size fits most" writing advice works well for it.
I tend to find a lot of that advice to be counter to what I need to do. Planning a story out ahead just makes me feel like it's already written. Building out the world before I start writing it feels like a hollow exercise - more like writing an encyclopedia than developing a land and culture for my characters to inhabit.
What I find useful is taking an episodic approach to writing. The entire story will be like a season of a television show and each chapter is like one episode. I always have my eventual "season finale" end goal in mind, but any particular chapter can meander closer to or further from that goal. It's alright to take a circuitous route, as long as I get to my destination in the end.
It's also alright if my destination changes as I'm writing. Sometimes those meandering paths take me in a more interesting direction than I was originally going down, and that shifts the story. As long as you're vaguely following a three-act structure (or 5 act or 7 act), the flow of it will feel familiar to your readers and they probably won't really notice it happening.
This advice I'm giving might not ring true to you either. You didn't have a specific problem to address, so I've been wandering a bit in my reply. Really what it comes down to is paying attention to yourself and your needs. Figure out what it is that keeps you writing and what it is that makes you stop. Do more of the former and less of the latter - and don't worry if what you're doing is "weird" to someone else.
I write directly into the AO3 window (which AO3 specifically tells you NOT to do, btw) because drafting first in google docs or something takes the fun out of it for me. I post my chapters without previewing them first. I write in 800 to 1500 word sprints, and I focus on dialogue, and I almost always try to end on a joke or a pun or a cliffhanger. These are all things that make writing an activity that I want to do.
I can't really say anything much more specific given your ask, but I hope something in here was helpful. Let's see if any gardeners out there have some resources or advice that might work for you.
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incculum · 6 months
Note
titty fucking zoro after teasing and sucking on his pecs for hours.. him cumming just from his nipples being pinched while your cock pokes and teases his lips <3
Roronoa Zoro.
top male reader
post time-skip Zoro | a little bit of feminization (calling his pecs 'tits') | nipple / chest play & biting | tit-fucking | a little oral
a/n: this almost perfectly fits a Zoro tit-fucking draft I've had for some time so I'm using that & adding to it. (meaning this is a perfect thirst<3 ty)
it turned out little longer too, so I'm making it a one-shot
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Zoro groans and the heat in his face only intensifies when your hands continue to wander across his exposed chest and your thumbs press harder against his reddened nipples.
"Let me fuck your tits."
Zoro chokes on his breath. Your words go straight to his dick and you can feel the muscles in his thighs tense around your hips when he presses himself a little closer.
"Don't call them that..." he mumbles.
"How can I not? Your chest is bigger each time I see you." Zoro's head tips forward, watching your hands play with his chest. "Almost like a woman's," you add and smile when Zoro's breath stutters. His fingers play with the band of your pants and you make sure to maintain eye contact. It's so unlike him to be this shy and flustered, he knows it but he really can't help it around you, and you know it, too.
You cup his chest with your hands and bring your head down to press a kiss against the scar that noticeably contrasts his flushed skin. You rub circles around his nipples with your thumbs and a strangled moan leaves him when you can't help but lower your head further, biting the sensitive flesh and adding another spot to his already mark-littered chest. His hips jut forward and he has to hold onto your shoulders to keep himself from toppling over in your lap, making you laugh quietly. He squeezes your shoulders tightly in retaliation and you only press a kiss against the new bite mark in response. You flatten your tongue and softly run it over his scar before moving past it, swirling your tongue around his nipple and rolling the other between your fingers. Zoro groans and pants into your ear and his hips rock forward when you softly bite. His ass grinds against your hard-on and you feel his thighs tremble around you before he stops moving all together and his chest heaves against yours. You can feel his cum begin to soak through his and your clothing again when he doesn't make any efforts to move away and you only smile against his skin.
"Did you cum, again?" You lift your head and Zoro's eye stays trained on you, almost looking at you like a timid virgin. "It's only fair for it to be my turn now." Zoro doesn't answer but his face turns a deeper red.
"Please?" You lean in and ask against his lips, hushed and careful. Your pointer fingers and thumbs hook around his swelling nipples once more and pinch softly. Zoro lets out an equally soft sigh through his nose but doesn't complain, giving you the response you were hoping for in a quiet tone matching yours, "..fine."
You tilt your chin forward and the way he kisses you back shows you just how excited he really is. Zoro pants softly when you part and you cup his cheek in your hand, softly rubbing the scar that forces his left eye shut with your fingers. A flustered heat radiates off of his skin and into your palm. "Need a moment?"
"No," he answers quickly before catching himself, "no, I'm fine," he briefly grins at you when you whisper an 'okay' before lifting himself off of your lap, following the guidance of your hands on his hips and allowing you to see him already beginning to get hard again when he takes a step back.
You don't comment on it, instead shifting closer to the edge of the bed. Zoro kneels down in front of you, fingers already slipping into your waistband. Part of him is a little disappointed you took your hands off of his chest, but the anticipation pooling in his stomach makes up for any complaints teetering on the tip of his tongue.
"You seem," you lift your hips to make it easier for Zoro, and he pulls your pants and underwear down to your thighs in one motion, "a little more eager than you were letting on." He lets out a sharp huff through his nose at your little tease, briefly looking up into your eyes, but unable to argue.
"Maybe."
Your hips jump slightly when he wraps his rough hands around your cock. You watch him lean forward and part his lips, drooling onto your hard-on and his knuckles, "fuck, Zoro."
Zoro raises his head again and sits back onto his heels. He twists his wrists simultaneously, watching you sigh when his slick spit spreads over your cock. His thumb rubs against your slit with a rare gentleness and he swallows the saliva gathering in his mouth again at the sight of your wet dick.
"Okay," he mutters, mostly to himself, pushing himself up onto his knees and pulling his hands away from your cock, though his gaze stays trained on it as he cups his chest and leans forward. He pauses for a moment when your cock presses up against his chest and pushes his pecs together.
You cup the back of Zoro's head with your left hand, breath catching in your throat when his tits envelop your cock so perfectly. You briefly wonder just how eager he must have been if he already knows exactly what to do without you saying a single word to guide him.
His earrings jingle with every move and bump against your fingertips, tearing you away from your thoughts. Your cock leaves a shiny mix of your pre-cum and Zoro's saliva behind on his skin when it seems to almost disappear between his pecs and reappear right against his lips. His chest hugs your dick so well. It's so warm and surprisingly soft. He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth and finds his fingers pressing up against the sensitive spots on his tits, trying to replicate your touch. He holds his chest in his palms and pinches his swollen nipples. A soft sound rips out of him and his thighs tense and press together. He shifts on his knees and sighs through his nose.
"You're.." the tip of your cock pokes Zoro's lips and paints them with your pre-cum like a sheer lip gloss every time he pushes himself down, leaving behind a thin string of fluids connecting his mouth and your tip when your dick disappears back between his tits, "..really good at this," you mutter.
"Yeah?" He can't help but stare at your cock sandwiched between his pecs and his thoughts can't help but concentrate on the way your tip taps at his lips.
"Yeah." You inhale sharply when Zoro slowly licks his lips clean of your pre-cum with a low moan, now looking up at you again. His fingers stay pressed against his nipples and he gives you a brief, smug smile, not giving you a chance to question what it means before his head tips downwards.
A gasp of Zoro's name leaves your lips when he sticks his tongue out and laps at the head of your dick whenever it appears in front of his mouth. He gives you a quick glance and his lips form an open-mouthed smile when your fingers curl into the bedsheets and your arm jerks, pushing his head down lower with your hand still on the back of his head.
Zoro lets you push him and looks up at you through his eyelashes. He's sure he'll let you do anything to him if it means he'll be the one making you cum.
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samandcolbyownme · 6 months
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Summary: anon request - "Can you do a one shot where y/n does the Estes method and it's revealed to her that she's pregnant like no one knows not even her and can it be for Sam please and thank you!!"
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, pregnant reader, reader being touched and spoken to by spirits, talk of death, murder, etc., fluff with a dash of sexual innuendos, teasing, ya know until they get back to the hotel and it's unprotected shower sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, etc.
Word count: 7.6k | not edited
Today into tonight, you were investigating the Nancy Hall Mansion.
You were kind of excited about this because last night, before going to sleep, Sam talked you into doing your very first Estes session.
You can't lie, you were nervous, maybe a bit more than you honestly thought because as soon as you sat up, your stomach flipped and you headed towards the bathroom.
Sam rolls over, reaching for you, but lifts his head when he can't feel you under his arm, "Y/n?" He calls out, but you're too busy dry heaving over the toilet you can't answer him.
He gets up, making his way to the bathroom as he rubs his eyes, but quickly snaps awake when he sees you getting sick, "Shit, hey." He comes over, holding your hair back, "You're okay."
He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, "Little bit nervous, are we?" He laughs a slightly and you stand up, "I think so."
You clean up and walk back out to the bedroom where you lay on the bed, "We're you nervous your first time doing this?"
He sits next to you, rubbing your leg, "I mean, I don't think I puked, but yeah, I was nervous."
You lay a hand on your forehead, trying to see if you're warm or not, but you feel fine, honestly.
"Do you still want to go tonight?" Sam asks and you look at him, "Um, yeah." You smile and sit up, "I think it was just first morning jitters, I totally forgot about it until I woke up more."
"I'll be with you the whole time." Sam smiles and leans down to kiss you, and it was like you needed it without even knowing.
His kiss lit a fire inside of you and you pulled him towards you, indicating that you needed him. He smirks against your lips, "Mm.. I see what you're doing here."
"What am I doing Mr. Golbach?" You bite your lip, smiling up at him. He slips a hand between your legs and slips his fingers into the band of your sweatpants, "You know exactly what you're doing."
He leans down to kiss your neck as his hand works further into your pants, "And it's working." You close your eyes, letting out a quiet moan as his fingers circle your clit, "We have to be quick, babe. Because co-"
Colby knocks before opening the door, "Yo, yo, yo! Who's ready to talk to an old lady ghost today?"
Sam quickly pulls his hand from your sweats and moves off of you, "And he'll be there, too." Sam Sighs and laughs as he nods towards Colby.
"Awe. Is someone having scared feelings?" Colby asks in a baby voice tone as he walks over and plops down next to Sam.
You roll your eyes, "No way in hell, Brock. You actually just interu-."
"Lalala, I don't need to hear that." Colby shakes his head and you and Sam laugh.
You sit up and close your eyes as you feel dizzy, but you quickly shake it off, chalk it up to being you needing breakfast.
"I'm hungry. I'll go start cooking if you guys wanna pack the stuff up." You stand up and Sam grabs your hand, gently pressing his lips to your knuckles, "Sure thing, babe."
"Sure thing, babe." Colby repeats, mocking Sam, "Ugh, you guys are so cute, it makes me sick."
"Anytime, Colby." You give him a cheesy smile before walking downstairs. You did feel odd today. Something was off, you just couldn't put your finger on it.
"Whatcha making, gorgeous?" Sam asks walking down the stairs and you give him a small smile, "The breakfast usual."
He sits down at the island and leans forward, "are you okay, y/n?"
You turn around from the stove and nod, "Yeah. I'm good. Why?"
He shrugs, "you just seem like you're coming down with something and if-" you lean over the counter, laying your hands on his, "I feel fine, Sam. I think I just need to eat some toast or something."
He squeezes your hands and nods, "Alright. If you say so."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The car ride was different, too. Usually you sit in the middle in the back, adding commentary here and there, but today you had to sit by the window or you felt car sick.
"Are you sure you feel up for this, babe?" Sam glances back at you, "You look kinda pale."
"Yeah, and you're not giving me shit, what's up with that?" Colby turns around and looks back at you from the passenger seat, "Are you feeling okay?"
You laugh slightly, "I might take a nap, I honestly just feel tired right now."
You roll your eyes, mocking Colby as he makes a smart comment about Sam keeping you up all night, "that is in fact not the case." You hold up your finger and laugh, "Now let me nap in peace."
You fold up Sam's hoodie that was thrown next to you and use it as a pillow rested up against the door.
You close your eyes, trying to nap but all you can hear is Sam and Colby talking quietly.
"Is she okay?" Colby whispers.
"I think so." Sam says, but he could tell there was something off about you too. He just didn't know what.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"What's up guys? It's Sam and Colby." Colby says they do their introductory clip, "Today we are here at the Nancy Hall Mansion."
You suddenly get a wave of nausea, repeating 'don't puke' over and over in your head as you close your eyes.
Sam notices instantly and is right by your side, "Are you okay?"
You look up at him, "Yeah, I just got kinda dizzy."
"Like from the house or?" Colby asks walking up and you nod, "Yeah, I felt a very strong presence since we've been out of the car."
"Nancy Hall is said to be a good, loving spirit, but there is one, her husband who was said to be more on the darker side of things." Sam looks between you and Colby as he rubs your back.
"Okay. I think I'm good now, but I am going to just sit here.." you point to a big rock and sit down, taking a deep breath.
"I'll be right over here, if you need me just yell." Sam kisses your head and goes back over to the camera where they continue filming until the owner arrives.
You watch as the car slowly comes to a stop and a younger looking man gets out, "Hello." He holds up his hand as he walks over to you guys, "I'm Stephan, my parents own the place."
You stand up, walking over to meet Sam and Colby as they walk up to introduce themselves.
"Y/n." You say with a smile and reach out to shake his hand.
"Are you guys ready for the tour?" He motions towards the mansion and you all nod, following him up to the door, "So you'll get activity in any room basically."
"Really?" Colby asks, "By anyone in particular?"
Stephan pushes the door open and shrugs, "I mean, I personally don't spend much time here because I'm honestly scared of places like this, but I was told to tell you that they may or may not get attached to you."
You and Colby both look at Sam and he presses his lips together and sighs through his nose, "That's.. great.. exactly what I came here for."
Stephan looks confused and Colby laughs pointing to Sam, "This dude has a new ghost up his ass each week."
"That I do." Sam sighs and looks down and Stephan laughs, "You would be the one. Alright so." He spins in a circle, "This is my, um, we'll just say there's many greats before grandmother, but this was her house."
"And she's a very kind and loving spirit right?" You ask looking over at Stephan. He nods, "Yeah, my grandma, yes. Grandpa, not so much."
"Could you tell us why that is? I tried doing research but there's absolutely nothing about her husband." Colby looks at Stephan and Stephan pauses for a moment.
"My, again, many greats, grandfather was the type of person to get what ever he wanted no matter what it took." Stephan walks over to a room and opens the door, "He killed many men in this room and never admitted to it until on his deathbed."
"Did your grandma know?" You cross your arms and he shakes his head, "Everyone thinks she died not knowing, but I think she really knew and just didn't want to be his next victim. So she turned a blind eye to it all."
You nod as your eyes scan over the wall and you stop on a picture of a pregnant lady, "Was that your grandmother?" You point and Stephan walks over, "No that would be her daughter, same name and all."
"They like to carry on the family name. I don't blame them." You walk as the guys keep talking, asking questions and such, and you stop at a mirror.
You squint, leaning to the side slowly so you can get a better glimpse of the woman, in a long flowy dress, standing at the end of the hall behind you.
"I think she's here." You turn slightly and stare at her as she watches you, "Nancy?"
The figure nods once and turns, disappearing behind the one open door.
"What was she doing?" Colby asks pointing the camera on you. You smile, "She was just watching us."
"She does that. She was always watching out for everyone." Stephan motions towards the staircase, "Well head upstairs now if you want."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Throughout the tour, you kept feeling dizzy or sick. Each time you felt that way, that's when Nancy would appear, almost like she's warding off the evil spirit that was once her husband.
"You okay?" Sam asks rubbing your arm.
You nod, "Yeah. I think she's trying to ward off her husband or something because every time I feel the tiniest bit dizzy, I see her appear and then I'm fine."
He lays his arm over your shoulder, "You got yourself two protectors tonight." He smirks and winks at you before walking back over to Colby and Stephan.
"So that is everything and I hate to cut it short but like I said, I hate being here." Stephan chuckles slightly as he looks around, "I have mad respect for you guys."
"Thank you." Sam and Colby say with smiles.
"Alright, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything just give me a shout." Stephan waves as he walks to the door, pulling it shut behind him.
"Okay, so what should we do first?" You look between them and Sam sighs, "I think we should the old flashlight trick with the REM pod."
Colby nods, "Should we start down here? Work our way up?"
Sam nods and looks at you, "You alright with that?"
"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever." You smile, "we can wait to do the Estes method until later on tonight if you want."
A smirk grows on Sam's lips and he nods, "Alright."
As Colby goes out to grab some equipment, Sam grabs your arm and pull you away from the door, pinning you against the one wall, "There's just.. something about you lately.."
His lips brush over yours as his hand slides down to put pressure between your legs and you bite your lip, whispering, "Sam.. we can't.."
He bites his lips, eyes still on yours, "We can, if you really want to."
A smirk toys with your lips and just as you're about to answer, Colby walks in, stopping when he sees Sam back away from you.
You look over at him and he laughs, "Please.. for the love of god, tell me you weren't just about to do it when I was right out there."
"We weren't just about to do it when you were right out there." Sam shrugs and laughs, which causes Colby to laugh, then you.
"Okay. Okay. You can do that later. I want to find out if Nancy knew her husband was a killer or not." Colby swings his backpack over his shoulder and you follow him down the hallway.
"This is the living room area where it is said that a lot of Nancy's husband's victims were poisoned. He would bring them here, get them drunk then slip something into their drinks that would eventually kill them." Colby explains as Sam pans the camera to him.
"Do we know her husband's name?" You ask as you walk up, "I don't think Stephan told us."
Sam shakes his head, "I don't think he did either. But I think it's something like Greggory, Greg maybe?"
A knocking sound comes from behind you and you turn around quickly, "Shit."
"Was that a knock?" Sam points the camera and holds it there for a few moments, "Okay." He turns back to Colby and as he holds up the EMF, "We can figure it out with this contraption, right here. This will allow who ever is here to answer with yes or no."
"And we will also be using the Alice box to kind of give us a better understanding as to who we are talking to." Sam adds while he shows the camera the box in his hand, "I'll give that to y/n."
You take the box, switching it on the same time Colby turns on the EMF.
"Is Nancy's husband in the room with us right now?" Colby asks and it switches to red, "Is this Nancy?"
Switches to green.
"Are you looking out for us?" Sam asks and it lights up green again.
The Alice box goes off, "Safe."
You look up at them and smile slightly, "I love Nancy." They smile and the box in your hand goes off again, "Greggory."
"Is that your husband's name?" You ask and watch was the EMF lights up green, "You were right, Sam."
He smirks and nods, "Just that good." He pretends to pop his collar and you smile as you laugh.
"Nancy, did you know that your husband killed those people?" Colby chews on his nail with anticipation.
The EMF lights up green and you frown, "We're you scared he would kill you next?"
The Alice box goes off, "He did."
"Whoa. Whoa. Wait. Wait wait." Colby shakes his hands, "They never said that... it was always said that she died of old age."
"Well that's obviously a lie." Sam says and the Alice box lights up green, "Nancy, did Greggory killed you?"
The box in your hand goes off, "Poison."
"So he killed her just like everyone else." Sam shakes his head and hands Colby the camera, "Nancy, did he kill you because he knew that you knew about what he was doing?"
The box goes red, then switches to green, then back to red, then green before the lights go out.
"I think Greggory doesn't want her to answer that." You look up and jump when you feel something touch your side, "Something just .. touched me." You move over to Sam, his arm instantly going around you, "You're okay."
"What did it feel like?" Colby asks as he continues to look around, "Like a hard touch or soft bush?" You run to Sam and demonstrate, "It was like a hand just lightly laid on my side, like right.." you lay you hand on Sam's side, "Here."
You lift your shirt, "I don't have any marks or anything. Nothing hurts."
"Nancy did you touch, y/n?" Sam asks and the EMF goes off green, along with the Alice box, "Protect."
"Protect? Are you protecting y/n from Greggory?" Sam asks and the box immediately goes back to green, and the box goes off again, "Gravid."
"What does that mean?" Colby asks and Sam shrugs, "I don't.. I don't know."
"Can Greggory answer a question for us?" Colby sighs, "Greggory, if you're here, can you tell us why you killed those people?"
The EMF switches to green.
"Did you do it for their money?" Colby asks and the Alice box repeats, "Money."
"So he did it for the money?" Sam asks and the EMF goes to green, "I'd say so." He laughs slightly and looks down at you, "You doing okay?"
"I feel like I need to sit down." You whisper and look over your shoulder, "I just got dizzy again."
"Why don't we take a break. Step outside for a little bit." Colby says and you both agree. Just as you're about to switch the Alice box off, another word comes through, "Sam."
"What the fuck?" Colby comes over, showing the camera what it just said, "What the hell."
Sam switches the box off and turns, "Let's go outside."
You make your way through the hallway, heading towards the door when you hear heavy footsteps behind you.
You all whip around, looking at each other when there was nothing there. You look at Colby, "Was that you?"
He shakes his head, "Swear to god that wasn't me."
"Let's give Greggory time to settle, then we can go to another room." Sam rubs your back as you walk to the door, he goes to open it but it won't budge, "Um. What the fuck is happening."
"You have to push.." you try it? Pushing down the little part above the handle, "Okay.. that wasn't like this before."
"Here let me try." Colby hands the camera to you, and you record them trying to get out. All while they're doing that, you feel the presence of something move behind you.
You shallow, keeping the camera on them, trying to brush it off, and it was working until you feel like someone breathed on your cheek.
"Fuck." You wipe your cheek and lean to the side, moving over to Sam, "I swear something like breathed on my cheek, like I feel a puff of warm air or something."
Sam rubs his thumb over the cheek you said, "Okay. We need to open this- Nancy." He pauses, "Can you please help us with the door?"
After a few more tries, Colby finally gets the door open and Sam chuckles, "Thank you, Nancy."
"Thank you, Nancy." You and Colby repeat in unison as you walk out the door. You walk over to the rock you sat on before and sit down, elbows on your knees as you feel like you're out of breath.
"you good?" Colby asks as he walks up. Sam sits next to you, "Do you need anything?"
You shake your head, "no I think I'm okay."
"We'll just sit here. If you're sick or anything, you're more vulnerable to Greggory and whoever else may be in there." Sam lays his arm over you and pulls you to him, "Nancy and Greggory sure seem to have it out for each other, still." He chuckles and Colby nods, "Oh yeah, did you see the way they were arguing over the EMF, crazy dude."
"That was nuts." Sam shakes his head, "I've never seen two spirits argue like that."
"Nancy is that bitch." You laugh, "she probably would have ended him if it wasn't for him doing it first."
"When we go back inside, I think we should try and talk to someone Greggory killed. See what they have to say." Colby suggests and Sam nods, "That's good idea."
You sigh, "Well, I'm ready so let's go back in."
You stand up and Sam takes your hand as he stands next to you, "No need to rush, we have all night, babe."
Something in you needed Sam right now, but with Colby standing right there, you didn't want to say anything, "Yeah.. yeah I know."
Sam's brow twitches, picking up the vibes you're giving him, "I see."
You lick your lips and smile, "So. Are we ready to-"
"In a minute." Sam says glancing over at Colby, "Colby walk away."
"But I-" Colby huffs and tries to fight it, "Where am I gunna go? I'm not going in there alone."
"You'll find somewhere." Sam grabs your hand and pulls you over to the car. Sam watches as Colby walks away, grumbling to himself, "We're here to do an investigation.."
You laugh and bite your lip as you look up at Sam. He looks down at you, "We can't do anything, but I promise, as soon as we get home.." he leans in, sliding his hands around to grip your ass, "You're mine."
"Why'd you tell Colby to walk away then?" You ask with a laugh. Sam shrugs, "To get on his nerves."
He looks up over the car, seeing Colby sit on the steps of the mansion, "Let's just give it another minute or two."
"You guys are awful." You shake your head and smile. Sam shrugs, "He knows I'll do anything for him. I just have to give him a hard time every once in a while. Keep things evened out."
You roll your eyes, laughing quietly as you turn to walk over to Colby, Sam following behind you.
"Are you done?" Colby stands up and Sam sighs, "For now."
Colby tries not to laugh, "You guys are ridiculous."
"But you looove us." You poke his arm and he nods, "Yeah, sadly I do." He laughs and motions to the door, "Ate we ready?"
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
2:30 a m
You were exhausted at this point. You felt like you just ran a marathon, or two, but you didn't want to quit.
You still had your Estes session to do.
"Alright guys." Sam says as he gets the camera rolling, "as you saw, we've had non stop activity since we came back in, like what.." he looks around at you and Colby.
"It's been at least a few hours now." Colby says nodding, "We've actually had to take quite a few breaks throughout the course of being here and it's not so much Nancy herself.. I don't even know how to explain it really."
"The fighting between her and Greggory." You say and Sam turns the camera to you, "The two have so much power over this house and it's just... a lot."
Right as you say that, it sounds like walking downstairs, "Listen." You hold your hand out and point to the door.
"Is someone coming up the stairs?" Sam whispers and looks at Colby. He shrugs, "It sounds like it."
"We just-" Sam gets cut off by the sound of something walking in the hall, "Fuck, dude."
It stops and you all let out the breath you were holding, "Let's just go into Nancy's room." You point and walk out of the one room and into her bedroom."
"We are now in the room that Nancy not only resided in, but also died in." Sam says panning the camera slowly around.
"I feel oddly safe in this room." Colby says with a laugh, "Like out of all the rooms and stuff, like walking up those steps, I was looking behind me and shit."
"No I know what you mean. As soon as we walked through the door, I felt ten times better." You look around, "Her husband must not be allowed in here."
"What makes you say that?" Sam looks over at you and you point, "I have a feeling, but there's absolutely no pictures of him in here. Like look.." you walk over, shining the flashlight on the pictures as they follow you, "There's pictures of her, but you can tell that someone was cut out of them and on this one, the man's face is scribbled out."
"What the hell." Sam whispers as he picks up a frame to show the camera. Colby walks around and snaps, "Hey guys, all of the people in this picture are scribbled out but her."
"That's so weird." Sam says as he moves the camera up, "Maybe there was mo-"
A loud thud coming from the hallway makes all of you turn to the door, footsteps following quickly.
You're all silent as you listen for anything else.
"That was definitely footsteps." Sam looks between you and Colby. You and Colby agree, "Uh huh."
"Okay, so we have our REM pod that y/n is placing on the ground between the door and the foot of the bed, with this, they'll be able to touch it, let us know they're here. So with that.." Sam looks over at Colby and he sighs, "Hello, I'm Colby. That's Sam and that's y/n. We are here to just ask some questions, specifically for Nancy, we mean no disrespect to you or anyone that wants to speak with us. You are more than welcome. Just come up and touch that little box on the ground, make the light go off."
A few seconds later, the red light flashes.
"Nancy Hall, if that's you can you make the light go off again." Sam glances over at you, seeing that your eyes are glued to the door way, "Y/n? You see something?"
As soon as Sam moves over the dark figure you see vanishes.
"There was something standing over there, diagonal from me. Just watching, but it was dark." You slowly look over at Sam and the light goes off.
You jump slightly, "Shit."
"Nancy? Was that you?" Colby asks looking between the pod and you and Sam, "Touch it again if it was, just so we know."
The red light flashes again and you kinda feel relieved, "Nancy, hi. My name is y/n. Would you like to speak with us?"
The red light flashes and you look at Sam, "I'm taking that as a yes." He smirks and nods, "So am I."
Colby pulls the headphones and spirit box from the backpack, along with the red blindfold, "Think it's too early?"
Sam shakes his head, looking over at you, "Your call."
"Let's do it." You reach out and take the blindfold from Colby, moving to sit on the center of Nancy's bed. You take a deep breath and look over at Sam who's setting the camera up to face you guys.
"Well bring you put if it gets too bad." Colby says switching on the box, loud static playing, "Whenever you're ready."
You look at Sam and he's smiles, turning to the camera, "I just want to say that this is her first time doing an Estes session." He turns back around and watches as you shake your head, tying the blindfold over your eyes.
You hold your hands out and Colby places the headphones in your hands, and you move them to lay on your ears.
You can't hear shit outside of the static, and you instantly start hearing words.
"Talking to you."
"Are we talking to Nancy?" Sam asks as his eyes stay on you.
"Yes, Nancy." You pause, "You're safe."
"Are we safe from your husband, Nancy?" Colby asks and you instantly reply to them.
"He can't hurt you."
"Did you know about-" Sam raises his eyebrows as you cut him off,
"Baby."
"Baby?" Colby questions, "Did you have a baby?"
"You're safe with me."
"We feel safe with you, Nancy." Sam assures, "was there a baby here?"
"Yes, right now."
"Right now?" Colby shakes his head, "I don't understand." Sam shrugs, "Maybe someone bad a baby here?"
"I promise."
"You promise what, Nancy?" Sam asks, his eyes staying focused on your still body, "Can you tell us?"
"You don't know.."
"What don't we know, Nancy? Do you think you can tell us?" Colby lays a hand on his lips, waiting for your response.
"Sam.. not Colby."
"Okay? What don't I know?" Sam chews on his lip, "Can you tell me?"
"Baby. You have.."
Colby looks at Sam, his eyes wide, "You don't think.. Sam.. is she-"
You cut Colby off, "Surprised. are we happy?"
Sam stands there in shock, "What the.. what the actual fuck." Colby looks from Sam and back to you, closing his eyes, "Nancy, are you trying to tell us that.." he pauses and takes a deep breath, "..y/n is pregnant with Sam's baby?"
"Yes.. I am. Exactly."
You feel tapping on your arms from both Sam and Colby and you push the headphones off, lifting the blindfold off your eyes.
You look between them and they both looked like they just seen something horrifying.
"What?" You look between them, getting anxious the longer they just stare at you, "What happened?"
Sam brushes hair from your face, "Um.. well.." he laughs nervously, "From what we gathered.." he runs a hand through his own hair and sighs, "Apparently you're pregnant."
Your mouth drops open, "What did you just say?"
Colby jumps in, explaining the questions they asked and what your answers were, "I started piecing it together, and finally I asked if Nancy was trying to tell us that you were pregnant and that's when you said, yes I am. Exactly."
You can feel your heart racing as you try to comprehend what Colby just explained, "I-I don't.. I don't.." you shake your head, eyes closed as you take a slow deep breath, "So I'm pregnant?"
"That's what Nancy thinks, apparently." Sam sits down next to you, "You know, you getting sick this morning.. I didn't even think about that."
You laugh, still in shock, "Oh god. I didn't.. what do we do?"
Colby sighs, "If you are.. we need to get you out of here because what I gathered is that Greggory doesn't like it."
Sam looks up at him and nods, "Yeah, yeah, you're right." He nods towards the camera, "You wanna grab that?"
Colby nods, "Yeah." He walks over grabbing the camera as you and Sam grab everything else, "Come on." Sam wraps an arm around your waist, leading you out of the room and down the steps.
As you're walking, something grabs your arm and pulls you back slightly, "You cannot touch me, we're leaving."
"You're fine." Sam whispers pulling you closer to him, "Almost there." You grab his sweatshirt and hang into it, thinking about all the times you felt sick or dizzy.
Being pregnant would make sense, you just didn't want to believe it, not until you peed on the stick.
Sam walks you to the car, putting the stuff in the trunk before turning to you, "you okay?" He looks over your face, "Did you know?"
You shake your head, "Honest to god Sam, no. That didn't even pop into my head, I just thought I was anxious about this."
He nods and pulls you in for a hug, "Well have to stop, get some tests. We need to know for sure."
"I'm going to shit my pants if you are." Colby says walking up, "That shit was fucking crazy." He puts his stuff into the trunk and shuts it.
"Let's go, we need to.." Sam sighs, obviously flustered over this whole situation. You take the keys from his pocket, handing them to Colby, "Come on." You walk him to the side of the car and he motions for you to get in.
You get in as Colby gets into the drivers seat and he looks back at you, "Do you feel any different now or?"
You sigh, "I don't even know what I'm feeling at the moment." He nods, "Fair enough." Sam opens the passenger door and gets it.
Colby and you both look at him as he stares at the dash silent.
"You good, brother?" Colby asks laying a hand on his shoulder and Sam nods, "I just don't.." he groans, "We just need to know for sure because i just don't-"
"We will. Okay, Sam?" You reach up, rubbing the back of his neck, "We'll find out."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You never thought you'd be at a gas station, in a different state, at four am, peeing on a stick in the bathroom to find out if a ghost was right about something.
You could have waited until you got back but you, Sam and even Colby needed to know tonight and not tomorrow or two days from now.
You cap the stick, shoving everything into your pockets before you walk back out to the car.
"Everything come out okay?" Colby turns as you get in and you nod, "Never thought I'd be doing this but here we are."
Sam turns around, "Yeah but how many people find out they're pregnant through a ghost?"
"Probably not many." You shake your head, taking a deep breath as you pull the stick from your pocket, "Should we let Colby look?"
Sam nods, "Yeah, please."
You hand the face down stick to Colby, "I wiped it off, don't worry." He laughs slightly and takes it from you, "No worries."
He looks between you and Sam, anxiety frozen on your faces, "Ready?"
You look at Sam and he takes your hand, "Yeah."
Colby flips it over and licks his lips.
"What, Colby? What does it say?" You ask as you and Sam lean forward. Colby turns the test away and takes a deep breath, "Call me uncle Colby."
He turns the test around and it's a very dark, visible positive.
"No fucking way." You whisper, "No.. fucking.. way."
Sam looks back at you, his jaw dropped, "Holy shit." He looks at Colby, "Holy shit." He takes the test, studying it, "No fucking way."
"In the words of Nancy, surprise. Are we happy?" Colby smirks slightly as he looks from you to Sam.
Sam leans over the seat, coming back to hug you, "Oh my god." He repeats over and over again, "Holy shit."
"Sam, hey. That can't be good for the baby. And I mean the actual baby, not y/n." Colby laughs and you laugh as Sam moves to sit next to you.
"How the hell.." Sam shakes his head and Colby sighs, "Well I can te-"
"Got that." You hold your hand up and smile as you shake your head, "What a crazy turn of events."
Sam lays a hand on your stomach, "I just don't.." he smiled and shakes his head, "Were not releasing this video until we're ready to announce it."
Colby nods, "Oh yeah I had the same idea. So if we're doing that..." he reaches over to the floor of the passenger's side and picks up the camera.
He turns it on and points it so it's on all of you, "So.. as you probably already know, Nancy, the loving spirit of the place we just left from, told us that y/n here.. is pregnant.." he can't help but smile, just like you and Sam, "We actually have the answer as to whether Nancy was right or not."
You look at Sam and Sam smiles, "We're having a baby!" Him and Colby both cheer, yell like they normally would to celebrate something, "Uncle Colby in the house!"
You laugh, "And to answer the question that Nancy asked, yes. We are very surprised, but also super happy."
"That we are. I think I was just in shock about hearing my name and baby in the same sentence, and I mean you seen y/n's reaction." Sam shakes his head smiling and then he sighs, "We just wanted to say sorry for lying about the lost footage, we actually did have it. Nothing got deleted.. we just wanted to wait until y/n and the baby were at a good spot in the pregnancy to announce it and we thought that holding onto this video was the perfect way to do so."
You look at Sam confused and he smirks, "I'm going to tweet that the footage mysteriously disappeared or something like that, I don't know."
"We'll figure it out, let's just head to the hotel and go from there." Colby sets the camera down and starts driving.
The whole way back to the hotel, Sam stayed next to you in the back, hand on your stomach as you guys talked about everything.
"If you guys have a boy, can his name be Colby?" Colby glances back at you and you laugh, "Your name is definitely going to be in it somewhere, Brock." You smile and he looked shocked that you said that.
"Wait.. really?" He asks and you and Sam both nod.
"Of course it's going to be, Colby. You've been there for me through everything." Sam reaches up and pats his shoulder.
Colby clears his throat, "I'm going to need you guys to get out of the car so you don't see me crying."
You laugh, "Aww, Colby." You reach up and squeeze his shoulder, "Don't act so surprised."
Colby laughs slightly, "I just.. I kinda knew that was going to happen but just the confirmation of it, you know?"
"I know, but I couldn't not do that." Sam chuckles, "You know that."
Colby nods and pulls into the hotel parking lot, "yeah yeah." He puts the car in park and gets out, knocking on the window for you guys to get out.
Sam gets out, walking around to open your door before Colby engulfs him in a hug. You take your phone out, recording them having their little celebration, smiling as they do a little dancey dance.
Colby points to you, "You're not getting off that easy, come here." You walk over and he hugs you, "Congratulations."
You smile, "Thanks uncle Colby."
He laughs, "You guys are going to be the best parents ever."
Sam walks up and it's now a group hug, "You know, I don't think there's any better way for us to find out, like we found out doing what we do."
"It was just perfect. Shocking, yes. But perfect for us." You rest your head on Sam's shoulder, "I can't wait to go to bed though. I'm so tired."
"Alright let's take this party inside." Sam rubs your back as you walk into the hotel, making your way up to your room.
"I'm going to post a snap, making it seem like tonight wasn't a good night." Colby says as he plops down on his bed.
You interlock your hand with Sam, pulling him to the bathroom, "I'm going to go shower."
"Mhm." Colby laughs and you hear him start talking to his phone, "So.. guys.. bad news.."
As soon as you shut the bathroom door, Sam is on you, "I knew there was something off about you." His lips move to yours and you moan against him.
"I've needed you all night." You whimper as you take off your sweatshirt and shirt in one swoop, "You have no idea."
"Think i needed you just as bad." He works to undo your jeans, and you push them down as he works on getting undressed himself.
He walks over turning the water on before coming back to you, "You just got so much more prettier." He bites his lip as his hand slides slowly over your stomach, "So much sexier."
You lay your hand on his, "We're going to have a baby."
He smiles and nods, "we sure are." He wraps an arm around you, "You're going to look so good with a baby bump. Shit, I can picture it already."
He pulls you into the shower with him, kissing you as the water washes over both of you.
"Sam.." you whimper quietly, "Please."
He lens down to slide his hands to the back of your thighs, "You know I'm going to be extra protective of you now."
"It'll be much hotter than it was before." You run your hand over his wet hair, moving it from his forehead.
He smirks, closing his eyes to your touch, "hmm."
He holds you up, your back pressed against the wall as he slides his hand between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit.
You gasp, closing your eyes as you rest your head against the wall, "Sam." You moan out quietly, "Please."
You feel his two fingers slide down, dipping inside of you as he curls them, watching your face twist as finally receiving some type of pleasure after waiting all day and night.
"Shit, daddy." You whimper and look at him, a smirk toying with your lips. His eyebrows raise and his head tilts slightly, "mhm. That's right."
You smile and he replaces his fingers with his cock, causing your eyes to roll back as you moan. Your back lifts from the wall and your nails dig into his shoulders, "F-fuck."
"You like that? Hmm. Is this what you wanted all day?" Sam's voice is quiet and he groans as he starts to thrust, "Fuck."
"You tighten your legs around him, moaning as he builds up to a pace that's absolutely perfect, "M'so close, daddy."
He leans in, kissing up your chest and neck, "Cum for me, mama."
His words, the tone of voice, and especially your hormones out of all sorts of wack right now sends you into overdrive.
You clench around him, filling the bathroom with moans as you let go around him, your orgasm ransacking your body until every inch or your body was feeling fuzzy.
"F-fuck." You whimper as he fucks you through your high, "Yes, yes yes."
Sam plants one hand on the wall, crashing his lips onto yours as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You lay your hands on his cheeks, gently pressing kisses to his cheeks as he slowly pulls out with a low groan.
He sets you down, helping you regain your balance and he pulls you in, "I'm so excited."
You nod, "Me too, Sam." You sigh, "I'm honestly glad it worked out this way and the fact that we have it on recording is even better."
He nods, "No one would believe us if we didn't."
You laugh slightly, "Yeah, no you're right. Speaking of, I kinda wanna go back and watch it." He smiles and nods, "You finish in here, I'll go get everything set up."
He gives you a kiss, cupping your cheeks as he leans back, "I love you."
You smile, "We love you."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Here's a little bonus :) enjoy!
Five months later.
"Are you going to upload it today?" Colby asks walking into the living room, "I mean, you can't hide it much longer, right?"
You shrug and look down at Sam's hand on your bump, "I mean, not really. He's growing like a weed." You laugh slightly and Colby's eyes go wide, "I'm.. sorry.. did you just.." he looks between you and Sam, "He?"
You laugh and cover your mouth, "Oh shit. I'm sorry. I thought you told him already." You look over at Sam, "No I wanted to tell him in person, but it worked out." He looks over at Colby, "you wanna know the name?"
Colby moves to sit down in front of you guys and nods, "Um yes please."
Sam moves the laptop off of his lap and sits up, "I think we're going to go with, Cole John Golbach."
You can see the tears welling up in Colby's eyes, you've never seen that man cry before.
"Colby?" You lean forward and tap his shoulder, "Are you okay?"
He nods, "Mhm." You can tell he's trying not to cry and if he speaks, the flood gates will open, "Yeah I just.." he stands up, covering his face and you hear him sniffle, "Thank you." He turns and you and Sam both get up and hug him.
You start crying because that's what pregnancy does to you.
"We love you, Colby." Sam pats Colby's chest and sniffles, "Alright. So are we ready to post this?"
You all move to the couch, on either side of Sam and watch as he works on posting the final video.
You bite your lip, watching as the video uploads and Sam pulls out his phone, going on twitter
@/samgolbach: new video coming here in a few minutes and let me tell you.. It's a must watch.
You tap him and point when it's uploaded and thousands of people flood the likes and comments.
@/fanuser: Wait... I thought this footage was lost or got deleted? What is going on!?
@/fanuser1: STOP IT why did they wait until now to post this? There's something happening..
"I can't wait until they get to the end." Colby chuckles, "They're going to lose their minds."
Sam nods, laying his hand on your bump, "I just wanted to make sure they were good before any type of announcement."
You told your close friends, but that's about it. You made sure that they promised to keep it under lock and key until the time came.
"Oh, and Colby." You lean forward to look at him and he looks up at you, "Yeah?"
"No one but us three knows the name of this baby." You smile and he starts to get choked up again, "O-okay." He laughs and shakes his head, "Damn it, dude."
You pick up your phone, sighing as you see a bunch of notifications, "They know." You laugh slightly, "I guess it's time now, I can post one of our bump pics, letting them know how far along we are."
You scroll through your pictures, finding the perfect one.
INSTAGRAM
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@/yourusername: Guess the cats out of the bag, we will be welcoming a beautiful baby boy to the Golbach family in about four months or so. Shoutout to Nancy at the mansion for the news. @/samgolbach
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Hope you liked this!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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talaok · 8 months
Text
Keeping up
Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller x reader
Summary: You convince Joel to go on a hike with you, but being that he's 56 years of age, he gets home barely in one piece, which means he needs a massage, which may lead to something more...
Warnings: age gap (reader's 25 and Joel's 56), a lot of sexually allusive jokes and stuff, and very soft and fluffy smut (unprotected p in v sex)
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"Keep up, Grandpa!" you called, turning around and catching him taking yet another break.
He had his knee popped to the side and his hands on his waist as he pretended to take in the view while really just trying to calm his heavy breathing
He had fallen behind a while ago, but kept insisting you continued at your pace.
It took a lot of convincing to persuade him to go hiking with you, some unconventional, but definitely effective methods of persuasion were used, and finally, this morning, you had managed to make him cave in.
It was only a two-hour hike, but he was acting like he'd been walking for ten days and nights with no food and water.
"I'm coming!" his voice sounded through the woods.
"You sure?" You couldn't help but grin, watching his chest rising and falling way too quickly
"I just need a moment"
Letting out a breathy smile, you retraced your steps on the makeshift track to reach his side.
"Tired?" you asked, already knowing the real answer, and the one he was gonna give you.
"Nope" he lied, making you chuckle.
He was so predictable
"Ah" you hummed, mocking him "so you're choosing to walk ten steps behind me"
He turned to look at you, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief
"Well, I don't mind the view these leggings of yours are giving me..." he arched a brow as his hands reached for your ass through the fabric.
"perv" you smirked
"Yup, that's me" he nodded, bringing you in for a kiss.
He could never get enough of you.
He had no idea how he had managed to make you fall in love with him, and so he acted accordingly, kissing and touching you every chance he got in case one day he was gonna wake up and this turned out to be just a dream.
"at least you admit it" you joked, biting his bottom lip playfully.
Oh how he fucking loved you
"C'mon now, we're almost there" You smiled that stunning smile of yours that made him almost forget how tired he was.
"You said that an hour ago too, angel" he reminded you
"I did, didn't I?" you smirked, starting up the hill again, and leaving him behind to wonder how the hell he had ended up there.
But then of course he knew... his ability to say no to you seemed to disappear every time his cock was in your mouth.
__ __ __
"goddamnit sweetheart" he groaned, laying on the bed face down.
He didn't bother to change into his clothes simply because he couldn't, the towel around his waist was gonna have to do.
By the look of it, your advice of "A hot shower will help you out" hadn't really worked.
"Poor baby" you cooed, setting your book down on the nightstand to pay attention to him.
"I'm never hiking with you again" he sighed "I'm hurting everywhere"
"I'm sorry" You stifled a smile at his pained expression "Here," you said, getting an idea "How 'bout a massage?"
"Mh that does sound good" he considered
"Yeah?" you asked, getting on your knees beside him
"Yeah darlin'"
You smiled, as you gingerly straddled his hips, not wanting to hurt him.
You rubbed your hands together to make them hot and then gently pressed them against the very top of his broad back, slowly starting to make your way to his shoulders to rub his pain away.
He groaned in pleasure beneath you
"fuck that feels good" he breathed once you applied more pressure.
You chuckled "I've heard that one before"
"Mh, I'm sure you have, angel" he grinned, closing his eyes as you took such good care of him.
You smiled as you started massaging his lower back too, drawing circles with your thumbs and relaxing his muscles one at a time.
"You're really good at this sugar," he spoke, as his hand found your right leg and started caressing it slowly to try and pay you back a little bit.
"Why thank you" Your lips pulled into a smile "I'm a woman of many talents you know?" you murmured sultrily, bending down to gently press a kiss to his neck.
"I know that very well, darlin'"
"Good" you nodded, finishing up his back "Now turn around"
"Yes ma'am" he obeyed immidately once you got off of him, just to climb back immediately once his back was on the mattress.
His heart couldn't help but skip a beat at the sight above him.
You looked so fucking sexy drowning in that shirt of his, and the fact that he was pretty sure you only had a pair of panties underneath it, only made it worst for him.
You didn't seem to notice the way he was practically eating you up with his eyes as you started massaging his chest.
God those hands of yours deserved their special place in heaven
He watched you biting your lips to concentrate as your fingers made all his pain disappear for just a moment.
Suddenly, he noticed a smirk splitting your face as you looked up at him.
"I see somebody isn't as tired as you" You raised an eyebrow before gently rubbing your core against his growing bulge.
"oh fuck" Joel breathed heavily 
"Sweetheart..." he murmured pleadingly as you did it again
"What?" you teased
"Trust me I'd love to fuck you right now, but I'm afraid that if I move one single muscle I'll have to go to the emergency room"
The chuckle that left your throat sounded more like angels singing to Joel.
"Who says you have to move a muscle?" you asked mischievously, as your hand slowly reached for the towel around his waist, undoing it in one swift move.
"Oh darlin'" he grinned lazily, "I'll never know what I did to deserve you"
You laughed softly at how happy he looked, before getting rid of his towel and taking his cock in your hand.
He was throbbing already
You stroked him a few times before you let your fingers find your panties and quickly pulled them to the side.
You wasted no time sinking down onto his length.
Giving him this massage had worked you up just as much as him.
his groans merged with your moans at the motion
"f-fuck" you muttered
No matter how many times you had sex with him, your pussy never really got used to the stretch.
"goddamnit darlin', you feel so good" he breathed
You smiled down at him before deciding to take off your shirt.
You didn't want it to get all sweaty...
He groaned even louder at the sight.
Your perfect tits bare before him, your perfect cunt hugging his cock so well, your perfect mouth parted as you sucked in ragged breaths, and then finally your perfect blown-out pupils staring down at him like he was the most handsome man on earth.
You were a fucking vision.
"fucking christ angel-" he growled as you started moving up and down his shaft "Look at you" he whispered, not able to stop his hands once they reached for your waist "How are you this fucking perfect?"
You just let out a breathy chuckle, continuing to bounce on his cock.
God, it felt good.
He always managed to hit that spot inside of you that made you feel better than anything else.
Your nails clawed at his chest, no doubt leaving some scratches, not that he minded... he loved when you marked him up.
Suddenly, you sped up your movements, making him tighten his hold on you
"Jesus Christ sugar" he groaned "How do you still have any energy left?" 
I mean every muscle of his had given up even trying, while you... well while you still had the energy to ride him like a damn pornstar.
And he would have liked to say this was the first time something like this had happened, but the truth was that the difference of age between him and you had made itself heard more times than he liked to admit.
He wasn't a teenager anymore, his back wasn't the same, his stamina wasn't the same, and you... Well, you were the exact opposite.
You were unstoppable, and fuck but you were insatiable
Before you, Joel got laid maybe once every six months, and now he found himself having sex at least twice a day.
Not that he was complaining obviously, it's just that he sometimes still wondered how the fuck you managed to pull it off.
"That's what being 25 will do to ya" You smiled, leaning closer to him to kiss his neck
"Mhh" he hummed, as one of his hands reached upwards to grab your tits "You're saying I'm old?" 
The soft sound of your laugh tickled his ear 
"I'm saying I'm young" you answered, rubbing your nose against his beard until his mouth was right in front of yours and all you needed to do was kiss him.
One of your hands had to grab at his shoulders as you felt your orgasm approach.
"oh fuck baby" you breathed, ghosting his mouth
"you coming?" he asked, watching as you shut your eyes, lost in pleasure.
"mh-mh" you managed to nod, before you hid your face in the crook of his neck and bit down onto whatever piece of skin you could reach.
"That's a good girl" he praised as his left hand found your butt and gave it a good squeeze "Give it to me angel" he urged
And without another word, you did, squeezing him and making him come just as you were coming down your own climax.
If he had to be honest he had been close since you had taken off your shirt.
"mhhh" you hummed satisfied, as you leaned away a little to look at him.
His lips looked way too delicious, so for good measure, you met them with yours for a brief moment.
"goddamnit sweetheart, you're gonna kill me one of these days" he smiled, gently stroking your sides
"Yeah..." a mischievous smirk erupted from your lips "and that day might be today"
"What are you talking about?"
You grinned
"Ready for round two cowboy?" 
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Text
Stuck like glue
Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.
Word Count: 2.0k+
Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set
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You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 
The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 
“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”
 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.
“Coop?”
You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 
“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 
“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 
You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 
“Cooper! What happened to you?” 
Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 
“Do you have any on you?” 
A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”
Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.
“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 
You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 
“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 
Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 
After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 
Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 
“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”
You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”
“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”
Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”
An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 
“Open up.”
He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 
You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 
“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 
“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”
You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”
The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 
Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 
“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”
Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 
“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”
He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”
The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 
Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 
The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 
He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 
“You ain’t gonna share?” 
You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”
A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 
“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”
He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”
You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate
“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 
His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”
You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”
Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”
You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”
“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”
You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”
Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”
He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.
“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”
The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”
You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.
“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”
Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.
“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”
Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  
Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.
Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 
“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.
The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 
“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
-------------------
thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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luveline · 11 months
Text
𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel can’t control himself when you get hurt in the field —a ficlet featuring an irritated (lovesick) miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested he re, fem!reader, 2.5k
tw. fighting, injury, blood
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel watches the screen in front of him unhappily. 
"Spider-Girl," he says. Two people answer him. He sighs. "Y/N," he amends, "you're being reckless." 
The little droid camera that follows you around circles your head as you swing from one place to another. "I'm being good," you deny. 
Miguel would never tell you this, but he loves how you speak. Sure, almost every word you say annoys him, but the cadence of your voice is melodic and addictive at once. And Miguel knows you're nice to everyone, but it's him alone that has you speaking so softly. 
You do it to torture him, he's sure. 
"You're doing well, but you'd be better if you didn't free fall for so long. Mechanical failure can happen at any minute," Miguel says. 
"Then one of the others will catch me." 
"And if there's no team member close by? I'm supposed to come and scrape you off of the sidewalk?" 
"Miguel," you say gently. He can tell what mood you're in today. "They have people for that." 
"Could you just do as I asked you to?" 
"Ah, but you haven't asked me anything." 
"Please," he says, "focus on the task at hand, and use your webs cautiously." 
You make a chirping sound that feels more laughter than affirmation, but you do as he requests, reducing the length of time between each web shot. You're in New York, Earth-1844, attempting to send home an unhappy Doc Ock variant whose mechanical arms are immensely technologically advanced, even when compared to Nueva York's futurism.
Miguel had sent you along with a rather large team, one. because a big team was necessary for the task, two. because you'd asked and he has trouble saying no to you, and three. because if you'd spent another hour in his office today he actually might have given into temptation, which wouldn't be good for anybody.
Miguel is used to doing what needs to be done rather than what he'd like, these days. So while he wants to indulge you and your fanciful suggestions —I'm not heavy, handsome, please, you won't even notice I'm in your lap, your thighs are so wide— he can't. He has things to do. Things that cannot endure distraction. 
"Woo!" you cheer through laughter, letting your shoes skim the floor in an especially dangerous manoeuvre. The adrenaline turns you giddy. "Holy crap." 
Oh, right, that's why he resists temptation —he hates you. (He doesn't hate you.) He hates you and your disregard for your own safety, he hates your rejection of his authority, and he hates the stupid sweet sound you make when you're excited. 
"Do you listen to me and then forget what I've said, or do you not understand the English language?" he asks. 
You land on a rooftop overlooking the centre of Future Doc Ock's destruction. "Well, I've been learning Spanish. We could always try that," you suggest. 
"Why have you been learning Spanish?" he asks. 
"Coquetear contigo," you say, your pronunciation all over the place. To flirt with you. 
"Qué maravilla," he mutters. 
"I don't know that one, handsome, so I'm going to assume it was a love confession or something similar." You sound so overly fond he has to tense his jaw. "Gwen, where are you?" 
"I'm over here?" 
Gwen is wrapped up tightly in a metal tentacle. It shakes her around fanatically. Miguel swears and zooms in on her location, watching in apprehension as she attempts to free herself while the arm creaks, tightening, tightening. 
"Woah," you say, taking a running jump off of the rooftop. "Can you believe it? I'm not the first one who needs rescuing." 
Hobie Brown reaches Gwen before you can, and he makes an impressive rescue. You divert your path, shooting a web at the glass dome covering Future Doc Ock's head. Miguel crosses his arms across his chest. Wannabe Mysterio loser, he thinks, and then, when you've smashed a hole into the dome with a generously momentous kick, Nice. 
He doesn't suppose Doc Ock was expecting a kick to the jaw today. 
You hiss as you propel yourself away from him, another web shot at a nearby lamppost. It does something funny to his chest when he hears you whine in pain, but he's too distracted to ask what's wrong —he scours your droid's view for an answer, finds it red and saturating the fabric of your suit. 
"Why are you bleeding, Spider-Girl?" he asks, gaze drawn to the main screen where Dock Ock shouts belligerent threats at an approaching Spider-Man. 
"No biggie," you say, hissing again, "I think I cut my leg on the glass. I need a better suit." 
"Can you walk?" 
"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle. From the amount of blood, the cut is deep. "Is it me, or is it dusty in here?" 
It definitely hurts if it's making you cry, though maybe you're unprepared. This was a bad idea, you aren't as seasoned as the others, and he knows you don't know what you're doing yet. You need more time, more practice. You've hurt yourself in the field on your very first mission, and you don't have the pain threshold or the super-healing necessary to cope.
It's his fault for letting you go. 
"Prepare for extraction," he says.
"No! No way, are you kidding? I'm fine, I– I can do this."
"Y/N," he warns. 
You fling yourself from the lamppost with impressive grace considering your injury and join the fight once again. Miguel can't keep an eye on you like he wants to, as the alarm that indicates an anomaly begins to sound. He's forced to rush together a second team while the elite strike force are preoccupied, yanking members of Spider-Society from their goings abouts, Lyla in his ear recommending effective combinations and fighting styles. From that point on, he has to supervise two different missions, his head pounding with effort. 
His hands itch. He should be out there. Miguel is the cream of the crop and he isn't shy to admit that. He's a good fighter, but he can't be everywhere at once, and most of the anomalies they face require multiple sets of hands to fix. So he forces himself to stay put and guide the teams through each fight, sick to his stomach with every bloody footprint you leave behind. 
He's following Hobie Brown and offering rejected instruction when he sees you go down. He toggles your voice channel and catches the end of a high-pitched, "Oof," the air-knocked from your lungs forcibly as you hit the ground. The tentacle that propelled you veers up for a finishing blow, and three different webs catch it and pull it backward. 
It's a blur. One minute Miguel's in the control room at Spider-Society headquarters, the next he's breathing in the smoggy air of New York, Earth-1844, concrete and asphalt torn up under his hands. Lyla speaks in his ear and he's deaf to her, his focus pointed with only one thing in mind. 
The restraint it takes not to wipe Doc Ock from the face of the dimension is incalculable. Miguel can't quite believe his own moderation as he orchestrates the return of the anomaly, your body on the ground in the corner of his eye. 
The second the situation is under control, he runs to you. His gloves hit the ground with a thud by your hip, as do his knees. Spider-Man, a Peter Parker from Earth-751263, has already set nanobots over your prone figure, tiny spider-like creatures that leave webbing bandages in their wake, closing the sluggish wound on your calf. But nanotech won't fix a broken spine, not in the field. Miguel needs a stretcher. He needs to get you home. 
"Miguel," you say, drawing his gaze from your slow-rising chest, "I can't breathe.
He slides his thumb as gently as he can into the seam of your mask and eases it off. "You're winded." 
You cough. The sound is disturbingly wet, but your lips remain unsullied. Miguel can't look at you in this much pain, and he won't: he stands, and he takes control. 
You're not in nearly as much pain as you should be, because Doctor Spider-Man gave you the good stuff. "Your healing isn't nearly as expedited as most of us," he'd said. 
"Is this medical discrimination?" you'd asked, faking a serious concern. "Do I need to talk to Spider-Lawyer?" 
You found it funny. He maybe didn't, but he gave you an extra dose and told you to rest up before leaving. Resting at the Society medbay isn't easy because Spider People are constantly filtering in and out of the ward for check-ups, medication, and corrections. 
It's also not easy because most Spider People are incredibly lonely in their home dimensions, and incredibly friendly here. When Miguel finally comes to visit you, you have a Spider-Girl from a few dimensions over who has the same biological mother as you but a different father sitting to your left —she's trippy and adorable, if you do say so yourself— two Peter Parkers to your right, and a melting pot of currency lost in the white linen sheets over your legs.  
They get one good look at Miguel and put down their playing cards. 
The Peter Parkers slink off together promising to come and see you again sometime, and your variant stops just shy of Miguel's position to look him up and down affectionately. 
"Go away," he says. 
She beams at him. "Okay." 
"You can't help it, can you?" he asks after she's gone, picking a rogue playing card up from the end of your bed. He twiddles it between his index and middle finger, the card shushing with each turn.
You sit up in bed and try to straighten out the sheets, hoping to entice him. You don't bother answering his question. It barely sounded like one. 
"I'm hurt, you know?" you ask. 
"I know. I told you to retreat." 
"No, I'm hurt it took you so long to visit me," you say. You're putting on airs. Truthfully, you genuinely are a little hurt, but your voice is soft and dreamy as always. "I thought we were friends." 
"Ah, because you need more of those." 
You sink down into your pillows, your knees hiked. "I really can't help it if people like me. And you'd know." 
Miguel surprises you by sitting down. He faces away from you, his thigh just shy of your feet below the sheets, and it's only then you realise he's tense. He's in civvies for a change, a t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest and regular black sweatpants. He's wearing converse. 
You look at him through a squint. "Did you hit your head, too?" 
"I'm off-duty."
"I just never pictured you in sneakers." 
"How do you picture me?" he asks, neck craned to look at you, his chin touching his shoulder. He has dark circles under his eyes and his brows are ruffled on one side. 
You let your knees fall to one side and pull your legs to your chest, hoping to entice him closer. "You're not sleeping well?" 
Miguel doesn't answer your inquiry. In fact, he falls silent. His eyes are on your hands where they're bunched at your chest, his dark flush of lashes twitching as his gaze tracks along the column of your throat, your jaw, and finally, your face. 
"If you were anyone else," he says eventually, "you'd be benched." 
"I'm not benched?" you ask. 
"You disobeyed a direct order," he says, "and your actions affected the people around you. Someone else could've been hurt protecting you. You have to listen to what I'm telling you to do, or this is never going to work." 
You look at the hospital bed railing rather than face his disappointment. 
"But it's my fault." 
"What?" you ask, startled. 
"It's my fault you got hurt. I knew you couldn't handle it, and I let you go anyway. I'm… I'm weak." 
"What are you talking about?" you ask. "Weak? You're the strongest person here, with or without Rapture." 
He flinches at the drug's name.
You lay there, paralysed by your own mistake, your big mouth ruining everything for the thousandth time. If there's one thing you know about Miguel, it's that you never mention his weaknesses. His drug. His last attempt at a full life. You might be light-hearted, a free spirit, but you're far from stupid usually. Your emotional intelligence must've got lost somewhere on Earth-1844. 
"Sorry," you murmur, looking at him from under your lashes. "I didn't mean…" 
Slowly, so slowly, he puts his hand on your leg. It doesn't hurt, you've been medicated and stitched and his touch is far from cruel, but you're so startled that your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel doesn't touch you unless he's giving you a vague reprimand, moving your hand from a button you shouldn't touch or a door you're not allowed to open. 
"I let you go on that mission, knowing you weren't ready, because you asked me to let you. I put selfish motivations over your safety. It won't happen again." 
You're not as brave as you think you are. You try to hold his hand but it looks so big, and you've never had him this close to you of his own accord. You're a moment away from nervous goosebumps. 
He looks up at your touch, your pinky finger wrapped over his, smaller and shorter but with the same pattern of calluses, skin abraded by tight gloves and rough surfaces. 
"Selfish motivations," you repeat in a murmur. 
"I don't– like saying no. To you." He couldn't sound more unhappy to admit it. 
"You say no to me all the time," you say. You don't mean to, but suddenly you're folding your fingers over his, forcing him to hold your hand. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't let go. "Like, ten times a day." 
"It's difficult." Your complaint is a blessing for him —the atmosphere around you shifts to something less vulnerable, and his permanently chagrined personality rears its head once again. He raises his eyebrows. "You make my life extremely difficult," he says flatly. 
"You make my life difficult, too," you say. 
You can't help but give him your fondest smile, your lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes.  
He visibly softens. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, just once. 
"Fantastic," he says, looking firmly away from you. "Great." 
"Isn't it?" you ask happily. 
He squeezes your fingers gently. It's almost imperceptible. "Yeah, it is," he says. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! also, im sorry if you already speak spanish i realised after that that detail was subjective to the reader, sorry!
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