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#Frank’s Pretty Eyes Day
frnkiebby · 9 months
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Jeepers creepers, where’d ya get those peepers~🎃
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tribbles-the-lesbian · 2 months
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For you ✨❤️pookie❤️✨another work in progressssss~
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⬇️original sketch below⬇️
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kira-light0 · 3 months
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Sorry about the horrendous image quality and my worse than mediocre coloring skills, but I walked by the pokemon aisle at a store and started thinking about Margaret and Frank in Jesse and James' outfits.
+ a bonus Hawkeye as Ash and Trapper as Pikachu
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All Hawkeye hears is "Pika-Pika"
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saintxgerard · 2 years
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Ik that last anon was memeing but Frank actually has the most soulfull eyes I have ever seen on a man... those orbs are anything but empty!
You’re so right though anon, there is such depth and beauty in Frank’s eyes
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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
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When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.
The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.
This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.
My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.
He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.
Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.
It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?
But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.
We used too much toilet paper.
We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!
Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.
So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!
When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!
Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”
Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.
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strnlio · 3 months
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Can you write about matt being your first boyfriend ever so you're always worrying and nervous around him and him comforting you?
NERVOUS ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
SUMMARY: matt comforts you after you admit to being nervous as he’s your first bf
WARNINGS: none just some fluff !!!!
a/n: i haven’t proofread this yet lmao😭 english isnt my first language so don’t mind any spelling errors i’ve made😭 sorry this took so long hope u like it anon!!
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you had never been in a relationship before. its not like you didn’t want to; you’d see your friends talk about their partners and feel a pang of jealousy in your stomach. sure you’d had situationships, but nothing close to an actual boyfriend. you didn’t want anything meaningless, or to be with anyone just for the sake of it. you wanted genuine attraction, like how they portray in movies, even if it meant you had to wait for years before you found the right one.
this was all before you met him. his name was matt. matt was different, different than all the boys you had ever had liked. you had been introduced by some mutual friends, and you quickly formed a close bond with him and his brothers. you loved hanging out with them, whether it was impromptu lunches, drive-through car dinners, gaming over the computer or karaoke nights.
chris and nick were great, but it was different with matt- anytime you talked to him you felt nervous, butterflies swarmed in your stomach and your cheeks felt hot. you’d catch yourself smiling like an idiot everytime he talked in that silly high pitched voice, laughing at his lame jokes and grinning like an idiot as you talked with him over the phone for hours on end.
guess he felt the same way, because he asked you out a fine tuesday evening. the first date led to another one- and a handful more before he officially asked you to be his girlfriend.
you were excited. this was something new, something you had yearned for, wanted for so long; and now you had it. however, there was a feeling of uncertainty bubbling through your chest everytime you thought about this. you had never been someone’s girlfriend before- you were inexperienced at this. you didn’t want to mess things up- especially with matt. everything was going perfectly and you were terrified of ruining it all.
the other day matt had texted you that he would be picking you up for a lunch date. you were excited, you got ready and waited for him outside your appointment. his black van pulled into your driveway and you got into the car, glancing at him. god he looked so pretty.
his brown hair looked extra fluffy today, resting on top of his forehead. his blue eyes looked like crystals in the sunlight, like glistening waves in the ocean. his face broke into a happy smile as he saw you come in, his lips were a perfect hue of pink- they looked so kissable.
theres was nothing more you wanted than to cup his soft cheeks and place a kiss on his lips. obviously you had kissed before, but you were never the one to initiate the kiss, it was always matt. his eyes flicked down to your lips and a wave of anxiety hit you- does he want me to kiss him? what if he doesn’t? what if my brain is making it all up?
negative thoughts filled your brain as you looked away from him. he let out a sigh as he started the car. he tried to make conversation- but you just kept giving short abrupt answers, overthinking every word. eventually he gave up as the car was filled awkward silence while frank ocean played in the background .
all your dates with matt before were romantic but casual- it was more of two friends hanging out and talking. now there was this label of ‘boyfriend- girlfriend’ you were scared because you felt like you had an obligation to be the ‘ideal’ girlfriend.
as you sat in the restaurant, you both talked and you felt a little more calmer than before. matts sweet laughter and light blue eyes peering into yours made it much better. that was until you noticed his hand inch closer to yours from across the table.
you felt your heartbeat go faster as you stared at your own hand wondering if you should move it to meet his or not. what if hes doing it subconsciously? what if he doesn’t want to hold my hand? what if he gets uncomfortable if i do so? all you wished for was the voices in your head to stop talking.
with much contemplation you decided against it as you took your hand off the table and folded your arms while attempting to continue your conversation.
matt noticed. he noticed your unusual silence, lack of eye contact. he was an observer, and it was weird to see your usual talkative this closed off. assuming you had a bad day, he decided to ask you about it when they reached the triplets house.
“hey,” he said stopping in front of her abruptly, looking into her eyes, “is everything all right?” your face scrunched up in confusion replying, “what do you mean?”
“its just…. you’ve been so quiet today. its not like you so… did anything happen? did i say something?” he asked letting out a soft sigh and putting his hands over your shoulders. “you know you can talk to me right?”
you broke eye contact as you stared at the floor. “oh matt- its not you. its just …. i dont know its quite stupid really” he brought up one of his hands towards your chin and tilted it upwards, so that you both held eye contact again. “tell me,” he whispered. his low voice and icy blue eyes staring into yours sent shivers down your spine.
“i don’t know. i just… you’re my first boyfriend and i just…. get nervous around you. i don’t want to mess this up i don’t want to mess us up. i feel like i’m so unexperienced that i’m going to do some stupid shit and ruin it all. and i don’t want this to end… ever. so… this is just kind of scary ,” you confessed.
“heyyy- come here,” he said, his eyes softening. he took your arms and slung them over his shoulders while wrapping his around your waist as he pulled you in for a hug. you rested your head on his shoulder, a feeling comfort spreading throughout your body as he held you in his arms. you stayed like this, holding each other in a tight embrace for a few seconds. matt broke the hug, his hands still on your waist, caressing your exposed skin slightly.
“i understand. but you dont have to be nervous- not around me. you’re doing so good and you’re already a great girlfriend. god i like you so much- nothing you do will ever piss me off ever. i know its scary… but try not to think about that alright? if i’m taking things too fast you can talk to me sweetheart,” he said while studying your face with his eyes. “can i kiss you?” he whispered, his eyes now looking at your lips.
you grinned as you both leant in and your lips connected. you pressed your body against his as your soft lips moved against his. you felt goosebumps cover every inch of your skin and butterflies in your stomach. god you were so grateful for someone like him.
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a/n: i always rush the endings because idk how to end ts properly sorry 😭😭✊ lowkey hate thjs but whtev next one will b better trust
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plutoswritingplanet · 5 months
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Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)
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a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)
Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.
Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3
PT. 2
Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 
Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 
Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.
Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 
Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 
 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 
A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 
Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 
You have to be alive and in good condition. 
Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?
- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 
***
The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 
You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 
The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.
The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 
By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 
Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 
That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.
Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 
It started with Old Lady Sal. 
You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.
Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 
And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 
The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 
You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 
So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 
Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 
That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 
- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.
Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 
- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 
Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 
You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.
You were drunk, not stupid. 
***
The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 
It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 
It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 
Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.
- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...
Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 
- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.
- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...
- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 
- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...
You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.
- Put pressure on it.
There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.
- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.
- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.
Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.
Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 
- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 
- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 
You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 
- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.
They led him to you. 
Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 
Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 
Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 
There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 
The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 
Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.
He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.
- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.
Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.
Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 
No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?
- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.
- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.
A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.
 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 
- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.
Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 
Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.
- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.
- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 
Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 
- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 
- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.
Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 
You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.
- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 
You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 
A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.
Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 
- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 
Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 
Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 
He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 
Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.
- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 
A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 
- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 
Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 
The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 
You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 
The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 
- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.
Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 
- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 
- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 
You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 
Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 
- You serious? 
- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?
- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 
- Wait. 
Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 
The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 
- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.
He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 
Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 
- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.
He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 
Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 
1K notes · View notes
valsverse · 1 year
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— general dating hc's
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pairing: percy jackson, annabeth chase, leo valdez, piper mclean, hazel levesque, jason grace, frank zhang (respectively) x gn!reader
word count: 3.0k part two
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percy jackson
• underwater kisses!! all the time!! being a son of poseidon has its benefits. the whole experience is just magical fr. it's like being in a whole different world, where nothing else matters except for the two of you. the sensation of your lips touching, your bodies intertwined, and the sound of your breathing mixing with the water is simply unforgettable. the way your hands hold onto each other, the way your eyes lock, and the way your heart beats as one, it's a feeling that can't be replicated anywhere else.
• percy 100% teaches you how to skate. the first chance he gets, he'll lead you onto the smooth, concrete surface of the skate park with the intent of teaching you!!
he patiently guides you, holding your hands and rolling you along while walking beside you. he teaches you how to shift your weight, how to balance, and how to stop. and every time you stumble, he makes a huge show of catching you in his arms LMAO. like, it's not that serious, percy.
whenever he's skating alone, he can't help but think of you. :(( the way your hair sways in the wind, the sound of your laughter, and the warmth of your hand in his. he would often skate in circles, lost in thought, imagining you by his side. <33 (all the other skaters think he looks like a fool, but he doesn't care.)
• now don't tell me you two do not have matching jewelry, because you DO. he learns a lot about your style and preferences, (he knows if you look better in gold or silver) and the pretty necklaces and stuff are just a bonus!!
he wears a necklace with several charms all the time, since it was a gift from you! some of the charms include an ocean charm and a tiny silver skateboard that dangles from the delicate chain. whenever he misses you, he would reach up and touch the necklace, feeling the smooth metal under his fingers, and smile. <33
• whenever you explain things to percy, he nods his head in agreement, but you notice his gaze flickering towards your lips ever so often. you don't know what he's thinking, but his expression provides a pretty obvious hint as to what may be on his mind.
• growing up as a child of one of the big three can certainly take its toll on anyone, even percy. after a long day of training and preventing new campers from capsizing the canoes while racing with the naiads, all he wants is to melt into your embrace.
he sneaks into your cabin with you as soon as possible, laying down on your bed, a deep sigh escaping his lips and he stretches his neck from side to side, relishing in the brief moment of peace. his arms are outstretched, inviting you to join him, as he longs for the comfort and safety of your embrace.
it's clear that being in your presence has a calming effect on him, reassuring him that everything is going to be alright. <33
annabeth chase
• annabeth has a penchant for discovering new things to learn and become deeply invested in, and she talks to you about her newest interests all the time. when you take the time to listen to her ramblings about her current passions, she gets so excited!!
sometimes, you spend hours in the library researching the concepts and terminology she speaks of, just so that you can engage in a meaningful conversation with her instead of just nodding along. the effort is well worth it to see her reaction; the way her face lights up as she smiles, leaning in to give you a big kiss on the cheek as a reward!!
• but sometimes annabeth rambles way too much. like, wayyyy too much. i'm talking hours on end. while her voice is soothing and you enjoy lying in her arms while she speaks, it can be a lot at times.
and annabeth only stops talking when she's finished gushing. unless you kiss her first.
although she tries to act like your affection doesn't work on her, complaining with phrases like, "why did you do that," or "you didn't let me finish." but her tone clearly softens. her eyes crinkling at the corners, and soon enough her facade breaks and she can no longer hold back a smile. <33
• you guys still use pinky promises. it doesn't matter if she personally thinks it's trivial, she does it for your sake because she values your belief in it. and if anyone dares to make fun of it, she'd be glaring daggers at them the entire day. if looks could kill, they'd be dead.
(and after you two interlock pinkies she kisses the palm of your hand to seal the deal.)
• annabeth isn't big on PDA, but she definitely steals kisses when people aren't looking.
• annabeth love, love, LOVES reading to you!! especially when there's nobody around and it's just the two of you, your head on her lap as she reads aloud about the wonders of Richardsonian Romanesque style architecture... whatever that is. (but she makes it sound interesting so you don't care.)
• overall 10/10, what a queen.
leo valdez
• he's your portable heater fr. leo keeps you warm by holding you close. it's particularly convenient when you're nestled on his lap or resting against his chest.
• this man can COOK. he mainly cooks food from his heritage because it's a way for him to connect to his roots, but if you ask him to make a particular dish for you, he'll do it, no questions asked. it's a common sight to catch a glimpse of him in the kitchen, diligently chopping ingredients and following the recipe to your favorite dish, getting himself completely covered in smoke and steam by the end of the process, but the result is always delicious so neither of you care.
he'll often call you into the kitchen to taste-test his newest recipe, shoving the dish in your face and urging you to try it like, "here babe, taste it!!" with the brightest smile as he eagerly waits for your feedback. he values your opinions a lot!
• him calling you petnames in spanish >>> omg. among his favorites are "mi amor" (my love), "cariño" (darling), and "corazón" (sweetheart). he usually rotates between those three and it never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks because like, hello??? how could it not??? he's always quick to notice your reaction and can't resist teasing you, playful remarks leaving his lips like, "a little flustered now are we, mi amor?" 🙏🙏🙏
• no matter how long you've been together, leo still flirts with you like it's the first time he's seen you. he'll brace himself against the nearest doorframe and unleash the cheesiest pick-up line known to mankind. despite their predictability, you play along. the game ends when he asks you on a "first date."
• leo spends a lot of time tinkering in his workshop, so whenever boredom sets in, (or if he's just thinking of you) he likes to put his creativity to use by making various small creations with you on his mind. these items range from keychains, to mini jewelry boxes, and even small flowers carved out of metal scraps. (you now have enough to make a bouquet.) your nightstand and shelves are absolutely littered with his handiwork, and you take pride in owning each one of them. <33
• leo's the type of guy that twirls you around while hugging. there's something incredibly spontaneous and thrilling about the experience — just when you think he's only reaching for your hand, he suddenly lifts you off the ground and spins you around, generating a moment of pure joy before gently setting you down once again, and leaning back in for a normal hug.
• he's so whipped for you it's not even funny.
piper mclean
• piper hates being categorized as a typical child of aphrodite due to the expectations and assumptions that come with the title, especially given the reputation of some of her siblings. she's always quick to reassure you that she won't break your heart and that her love for you is truly genuine.
• piper has a soft spot for when you play with her hair; running your fingers through her choppy locks and especially when you braid it. when you gently scratch her scalp while brushing your nails through her hair, she gets lost in her own little world.
• piper isn't afraid to show you off if you're okay with it. like she's in a beautiful, loving relationship, why wouldn't she?? also she's a hand swinger FR. 🙏🙏🙏
• you guys have matching bracelets!! nothing fancy, just a bunch of multi-colored beads on a string, but she loves them so much. sometimes you dedicate dates to making these bracelets just because it's one of her favorite pastimes.
she has one with your name written on the beads, a couple with the titles of the albums you listen to together, as well as ones with your preferred color schemes. just anything to remind her of you. <33
her collection is so big that they now stack up to her arms. maybe it's becoming a problem.
• while piper doesn't like flaunting her wealth, if she sees that you have your eye on something she'll immediately buy it for you. no questions asked. you don't even need to say anything.
maybe you'll bring it up ONCE, not even asking her to buy it, just mentioning you were saving up for a particular item, and the next day it's on your bed with a note from her. when you ask her she'll just be like, "weren't you talking about it?"
• while piper is pretty self-conscious about her singing, she'll do it if you ask her to because she trusts you. if you're having trouble sleeping, she'll lay your head in her lap and sing a short melody, and it works every time. once you drift off, she’ll place a tender kiss on your forehead, (or multiple) and express how much you mean to her, because she can't be this sentimental when you're awake.
she's so in love omg.
hazel levesque
• she's the absolute sweetest girlfriend you could ever ask for! her sweet and loving nature is simply amazing and her love for you knows no bounds. she goes above and beyond to make you feel appreciated and loved in every way possible.
• she definitely loves to go horse-back riding with you. the sensation of the wind blowing through your hair, the warm sun kissing your skin, and the gentle sound of the horse's hooves rhythmically hitting the ground beneath you — it all feels like pure magic, especially since hazel is sharing the moment with you!
• over time, hazel got more comfortable with kisses. the first time you two shared a kiss, she timidly brushed her lips against yours before rapidly withdrawing, her hands instinctively covering her face in embarrassment.
but as time went by and your relationship progressed, she soon began to relax and gain confidence, especially with you relaxing and guiding her through every step of the way. <33
PDA isn't really her thing, but when the two of you are in private, she WILL shower you with kisses on various parts of your body, including your forehead, cheeks, neck, lips, and anywhere else she can reach. i feel like she'd especially love kissing your nose. it's quite endearing to watch her stand on her toes to give you a sweet smooch if you're tall, or simply grab your face and plant a gentle kiss on your nose if you're shorter.
• hazel is doing her best to learn about your interests, but like many things in the today's world, it's a learning process for her. but your help makes her feel more at ease in this modern world. there is still a lot that hazel doesn't fully comprehend, so she values the historical insights you share with her.
• hazel's love languages are acts of service and gift giving. she loves the way your eyes light up when she pampers you. she's also so patient when she helps you with your sword-fighting!! she goes the extra mile to help you master any technique, training with you for hours on end just to see your smile. she patiently guides you through each step, offering advice and encouragement along the way. her joy comes from your progress and happiness.
• okay this is a small thing but she always lets you have the last bite!! whether you're dining out or sharing popcorn at the movies, hazel is always mindful of ensuring that you get the last bite/handful. <33
she's so cute omg.
jason grace
• i think most of us know how touch starved this man is, but he slowly eases into romantic gestures. after a long day of praetor duties, all he wants to do is melt in your arms as you whisper sweet nothings to him.
jason loovvees resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33
• jason grows to love hand-holding! it starts off with just linking pinkies, but progresses when you take his calloused palms into yours. from the second you two intertwine hands, he's hooked.
he doesn't really know how to initiate hand-holding, so he often makes excuses like, "here, let's compare hand sizes." or "aren't you cold? let me warm up your hands for you." and proceeds to take both of your hands in his without waiting for a response because he just can't ask upfront. :(( (don't worry, he gets over it as the relationship progresses.) his GRIP on your hand is so noticeable LMAO. it's like he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go.
he most definitely places kisses on your hand. 🙏🙏🙏 i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush. <33
• hear me out, considering his expertise in combat, this man has gotta have some beefy arms okayyy?? like, it's hard not to stare at them. and once he rolls up his sleeves, it's all over FR.
he does it without thinking at first, whether it's tidying up his cabin, strategizing battle plans, or sometimes just mindlessly sighing and rolling up his sleeves when something's on his mind. but he starts to notice how your gaze lingers on his forearms a little too long to be considered "normal", and once he figures it all out, he's having a whole field day with it.
basically, he makes a point to show off his arms around you whenever he could. it drives you crazy, and guess what? he's well aware of it. you know this given that he'll occasionally flash one of his rare jason grace smiles, which later transitions into a grin with a slightly raised lip. 🙏🙏🙏
• he's such a gentleman fr. even little things like holding open doors for you even if it means waiting a few extra moments, offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33
frank zhang
• frank gives the best bear hugs! (both literally and figuratively.) in the early stages of a relationship, he may come across as a bit awkward. not because he doesn't want to initiate anything, but rather because he's a bit unsure of himself. he takes his time to get to know you and build trust before stepping up his game and expressing his love in more obvious ways. as time passes, he becomes more comfortable and eases into the relationship at a sweet and slow pace, making sure to respect your boundaries and wishes. :((
he loves holding you and making you feel loved, so cuddles aren't uncommon. he takes care to express his affection in a way that makes you feels comfortable and appreciated!! he's always asking you, "do you feel alright?" or "is this fine?" because what may be okay one day might not be okay the next.
typically, he prefers to be the big spoon, but he's is also happy being the little spoon, because he believes that vulnerability and intimacy go both ways in a relationship!!
• frank has the ability to shapeshift into tons of different animals, and he uses this to his advantage while cuddling with you!! imagine waking up to find a cuddly koala bear clinging onto you protectively one day, and then the next day, holding a sweet and adorable tea-cup sized labrador puppy in your hands. the cuddling possibilities are endless!!
• your decision to date frank despite any challenges along the way has had such an impact on his self-esteem. like, seriously!! every word of praise you offer him is treasured, and he adores being around you; in fact, he flourishes in your presence. your encouragement has really made a difference in his life. <33
• he love, love, LOVES holding your hand!! he seems to find every opportunity to intertwine his fingers with yours, and in moments of stress or anxiety, he'll often tap or lightly pull on your hand as if seeking reassurance because your touch brings him a sense of comfort and safety.
• considering that frank's height ranges from 6'3-6'6, you're probably shorter than him. and yeah, he definitely utilizes his height advantage around you.
he loves by approaching you from behind and embracing you, regardless of your own height, and another plus is that he can easily lean down for a kiss!!
his height is particularly convenient around high shelves or objects that may be out of your reach. his height also provides a sense of protection and security for you because he can easily shield you from any harm that may come your way!
overall, 10/10 would date again.
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a/n
WHY DO MY FICS KEEP GETTING LONGER AND LONGER LMFAOO.
i wanted to keep this fic relatively short but omg i could not fit everything i wanted in one post. part 2 maybe??
i love writing hc's because they're a lot more casual but my next post will probably be a regular oneshot. :))
xx, val.
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4K notes · View notes
f0point5 · 7 months
Text
Lando Norris x reader Masterlist
Only rumours ‘bout my hips and thighs - News of Y/N and Lando’s budding “relationship” hits F1 news
It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got - Rumours about Lando and Y/N heat up. Meanwhile, Y/N is skeptical about Lando’s friendly overtures
You will take the long way - Y/N discusses her secret, and Lando lets out his frustrations with Max
At least I’m trying - Y/N catches up on the new season of Drive to Survive, while Lando makes another effort to befriend her
Gain the weight of you - Y/N ties up loose ends as the stage is set for the relationship to go public
You told your family for a reason - Y/N arrives in Bahrain, and the deception deepens
The jury’s out - Y/N meets more people in Lando’s life with mixed reception, and attends her first race
(They) find something to wrap (their) noose around - Lando is subject to some controversy, which means Y/N has to step in, whole fighting to stay in her comfort zone
You don’t know how nice that is…but I do - Y/N attends the race where she makes an immediate connection with Oscar, and Lando makes an ill-advised move to impress her
You don’t feel pretty, you just feel used - Y/N finds herself in high demand, much to her dismay, as she heads to Australia for the next race
I’m feeling like I don’t know you - Lando’s feelings about how Y/N is spending her time in Australia bubble over
New to town with a made up name - Y/N does a Q&A
Every time you shine, I’ll shine for you - Lando secures an amazing result at the Australian Grand Prix, while neitzens discuss his new relationship.
That old familiar body ache - Y/N is forced to get back to work, which includes seeing Lando
The rust that grew between telephones - Y/N’s campaign debuts while she and Lando are in Japan. Lando searches for answers for what happened in Monaco
It’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound - Y/N skips the Japanese Grand Prix and puts her job in jeopardy
Did you see the photos? No, I didn’t but thanks though - Y/N is forced to defend Lando from gossip, while her position as his girlfriend remains precarious
They say what doesn’t kill you makes you aware - Max F weighs in on Lando’s troubles, while Lando finds he and Y/N have a common interest
Lights, camera, bitch smile - Y/N puts on an impressive show at the Grand Prix. Lando’s jealousy gets the better of him, leading to a frank conversation
Don’t you worry your pretty little mind - Y/N reaches out to Lando when he is the subject of online trolling to offer support
I did my best to lay to rest - Y/N and Lando get closer in Miami, but the increased publicity may lead to things being unearthed that Y/N would like to stay buried
I was grinning like (he’s) winning - Y/N watches Lando become a Grand Prix winner
You can’t talk to me when I’m like this - Lando wins the Miami Grand Prix, but a misstep means Y/N is not part of the celebration
I never grew up, it’s getting so old - Oscar steps in to help when Y/N and Lando aren’t speaking
Can (he) see right through me? (I) see right through me - Y/N takes Oscar’s advice and opens up to Lando
Our secret moments, in a crowded room - Y/N and Lando spend time together while Monaco hosts the Historic Grand Prix
They’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down - Fans speculate when Y/N and Lando are not seen together and she misses the Imola Grand Prix
It’s nice to have a friend - Y/N has a busy week in the South of France, and Lando tries to be supportive as the two plan to keep the rouse going when his family comes to town
I spy with my tired little eye - Y/N attends the Monaco Grand Prix
We might just get away with it - Y/N remains in Monaco with Lando to keep up pretences
Telling me to punish you for things you never did - Lando arrives alone in Canada while the internet finds out Y/N has been spending time with Freddie…and so does Lando.
Love’s a show, but I would die for you in secret - Father’s Day brings Y/N closer to understanding Lando, and letting Lando understand her
Braced myself for the goodbye, (…) but you took me by surprise - Y/N attends the Spanish Grand Prix. After a disappointment, Lando receives some tough love
1K notes · View notes
writtenbymoonflower · 8 months
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Hi! Can I please request a poly!Marauders x reader where the reader has a secret admirer? The reader is receiving anonymous gifts and letters, making the boys anxious and jealous. If not, it's okay! Thank you, author-san!
omg i love this! thank you so much, baby, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders
cw: jealousy and possessiveness, borderline harassment and stalking, hickey
1.1k words
You groaned loudly when you opened the front door only to be greeted by yet another bouquet of flowers. You begrudgingly brought the arrangement into the house, setting it on the countertop. 
"Again? That’s like the third this week, and it’s only Wednesday." Sirius said, exasperated and (almost) as annoyed as you. 
"Fifth, actually." You hated that you were complaining, you knew you were technically very lucky to receive all these gifts, it was just distressing. And to be frank, getting very old.
"Christ, this person is thirsty." Sirius’ voice was strained, clearly more anxious than he was wanting to let on. 
"At least it seems they don’t have much of a chance, anyone worth their salt knows that you hate roses, angel." James said, between mouthfuls of his sandwich. 
"I know," You cringed. "Who should I give these to this time? Lily has enough flowers to open a shop" You rolled your eyes. "Speaking of," You reached into your work bag and pulled out two boxes. "There were chocolates at my work when I got there yesterday, and a pair of earrings on monday." You walked over to where Remus and Sirius were cuddled on the couch. 
“Geez, dove. Are we gonna have to step up our game?” Remus said, voice tinged with jealousy. 
"No, this person needs to step down. Or at least give me a return address or something. All the notes say is ‘from someone who appreciates you, xx.’ It’s actually kind of distressing." You handed the smaller box of earrings to Sirius, "Are these your style, honey?" 
"What? You don’t want them?" He sounded surprised. Of course you didn’t! Why would you need presents from a random person when you have three boys who give you all the love you could ever need? (and in the way you like it)
"No, I would feel weird wearing them." You cringed, handing the larger box to Remus. "You can have these, I don’t even like cherry chocolate." Remus took the box like it was filled with poison, a disgusted tilt to his lips, just as Sirius dramatically dropped the jewelry box onto the coffee table. 
"I don’t know whose grubby paws have been on this box." He sneered. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, looking over to James who was still in the kitchen. He had set his sandwich down and was looking like a kicked puppy. It made your heart crack.
"Jamie, what’s wrong baby? Come here." You beckoned him over. He rushed to your side, placing his hand protectively on your shoulder and gripping you tight. You looked at your other two boyfriends, Remus’ jaw was clenched tight and Srius was still looking at the box and scowling. 
"I jus’ don’t like it." James said from your side, his voice was small like a child's. 
"Wait, hold on," You said, "Are you all actually worried about this?"
"Define ‘worried’ lovely," Remus said, his voice an awful mix of venomous and depressed. “I don’t think any of us like knowing there’s someone out there fighting for your affections.” His eyes had an angry glint to them. 
“Guys,” You said, your heart only breaking further. “You have nothing to be worried about, okay?” James’ grip tightened on you. “There is absolutely no competition here, I’m not even giving these the time of day. I don’t want anything to do with the gifts or the person sending them.” 
“But you would if we weren’t in the picture.” Sirius said quietly, all too insecure for your liking. You wormed your way out of James’ grasp, resulting in a whine being pulled from his throat, to crouch in front of Sirius. You grabbed his pretty face in your hands, looking into his sad eyes. 
“No, I wouldn’t. I’m not impressed by these gifts.” You took a deep breath, not wanting to confess the next part and worry your boyfriends worse. “They actually kind of scare me.” You admitted, making all their eyes snap to you. 
“Scared? Of what, darlin’?” James piped up. 
“I just,” You cringed. “I don’t like knowing that there is someone this obsessed with me and I don’t know who they are. And that they know where I live and where I work. I mean, who knows how much they know?” 
“Well now I feel like an arse.” Sirius grabbed you from the floor and hauled you onto the couch with him and Remus, wrapping himself tightly around you. “Here I was thinking this person was gonna get you away from us, not knowing they were worrying you.” 
“You’re not, I promise!” You reassured. “Honestly, if there was someone doing all this for you three I would be really jealous too.” You placed a hand on two of your boyfriends’ thighs, looking over at James, who was still sulking, now sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “But I can assure you, even if I found out who this person was, they, and no one else, would be able to take me from you three. You aren’t getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I don’t like stalkers.” You joked. 
Remus pulled you closer to him, gentle but still much more aggressive than usual. Your other two boyfriends had settled, but he was still heated. 
“Remmy,” You turned to face him. “I promise, you have nothing to worry about.” 
“I know,” He grunted, burying his face into your neck. You wanted to shrink at the ticklish feeling but you allowed him to stay there, knowing he needed it. Remus had a jealous streak, perhaps the most of all your boyfriends. James and Sirius were more subtle in their protectiveness, but Remus started marking you all like a wolf anytime someone let their gaze linger too long. You buried your fingers in his hair and scratched his scalp, trying to relax him. 
“As soon as I find out who this is I will get them to stop, I promise.” You said vehemently. You looked guiltily at all your boyfriends, “I’m sorry this is happening, it isn’t fair to you all.” 
“It’s not your fault, dolly.” Sirius placed his hand on your back. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you aren’t asking for this.” You were about to hug him, but Remus held fast around your waist, you started to protest, but you felt Remus’ lips latch to a spot on your neck, nibbling and sucking hard enough to sting, but not hurt. The sound you let out was half giggle and half moan.
“Christ, Moons!” James barked, “You trying to brand them or something?” The three of you started giggling like children. Remus released your skin from his teeth, observing the red and purple splotch that was left in his wake. 
“Gotta make sure they know what’s mine.” He said, possessively. “Don’t worry," His eyes glinted furiously at your two other boyfriends, "you two are next.” 
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. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🍡 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .
𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹!𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 is completely frank about his past experiences: none. sure, he’s jerked off here and then, but nothing quite concrete in his life. it’s not that he’s always wanted the lone wolf lifestyle, but his work ethic never allowed him to socialize. heck, he talked more often with the betta fish he had for companion in his cubicle than to his own relatives! but you changed him. you enticed him. you encouraged him to open up.
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who’s cold demeanor slowly melts and reveals a huge teddy bear who only wants to be cuddled after his long nights :(
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who has completely erased the word “no” from his vocabulary. all that money he amassed during his hardworking years hadn’t gotten any purpose before you came in his life. a purse you’ve eyed whilst going shopping? he’ll make sure you won’t leave empty handed. your online shopping cart is full? your clothes will be shipped the next day.
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who downloaded instagram to solely have you for following. we can pretty much say his account is a fan page dedicated to you.
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who is the one next to the road when side-walking with you. no way he’d ever risk getting you harmed or hurt by a distracted driver. so he holds your pretty hand, listening to you yap on and on as he almost got hit by a light pole… oops.
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who keeps your heating pad warm all night long when you’re on your period. he knows how bad your cramps can get so he’s there to support you by doing small actions (to his eyes) that mean the world to you <3 or if you don’t have cramps, well he still has some snacks and a soft blanket ready just for you!! because he wants to show you appreciation 😇
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who, before you moved in with him, had an organized stationary with some snacks, period pads, soda, water, and duplicates of your own belongings so that his home truly feels like home for you. whereas he himself is already home 🥹
𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 who always knew you were the one deep down. so it’s to no surprise to him when you subtly hint him at marriage, showing you pictures of brides on pinterest, talking about your ideal wedding. but trust me he’s noting it all in his head!!
in reality, 𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹!𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 doesn’t really differ from 𝒷𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹!𝒩𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑜 !! he’s just sweeter, he’s gotten a bit bulkier because your cooking has fattened him up a little. >.<
𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹!𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 lets loose much more than before around you, you’re his comfort person so he knows to never fear of being judged around you. if anything you’re haunting his thoughts at work, at the gym, at the grocery store…
𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹!𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 who takes you to Malaysia for your honeymoon. he’s always dreamed of going there and simply enjoying life on a Malaysian beach. you know it, because he’s always been mentioning it when you would talk about your ideal wedding.
𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹!𝓃𝒶𝓃𝒶𝓂𝒾 who ends up being a huge papa bear to his kids, who dreams of ending his life on a malaysian beach with you next to him, renewing your old souvenirs with him in your youth. 🧡
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frnkiebby · 9 months
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This is torture~🎃
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hier--soir · 1 year
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fake it
joel miller x f!reader
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rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: does joel know you well enough to know when you're faking it? warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] smut, smut, smut, it's pretty much entirely smut, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, faked orgasm, panty sniffing, cunnilingus. word count: 5.7k masterlist a/n: i've had this idea worming around in my head for days and i just had to get it out so heRE WE GO
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“We’ll stop here for the night.”
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of Joel’s voice, and the truck rolled to a stop as he parked it in the middle of a field, directly on the edge of a thick forest. The three of you had been on the road for hours since leaving Bill and Frank’s place, and you’d drifted in and out of a fitful sleep for the past few hours, painfully aware that it was your turn to take first watch once you stopped somewhere for the night.
“Fucking finally,” Ellie grumbled from the backseat, and Joel shot her an annoyed glance through the rear-view mirror.
It was already dark outside, and you shone a torch ahead into the inky black mass as the three of you spread your sleeping bags out on the ground. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, adrenaline spiking in the darkness. You’d always been afraid of it; the dark, and what lurked within it. And being in the middle of a field, late at night, unable to make a fire, was surely one of the worst case scenarios you could think of.
“You guys sure we’re safe out here?” Ellie asked warily. You noticed her eyes staring out across the forest, trying to spot anything through the thick mass of tall trees.
When Joel didn’t answer her immediately, his own eyes drifting outward to gaze into the darkness, your stomach dropped. After a second of too much silence you discreetly elbowed him in the side. His head snapped around to look at you, frowning as he rested a hand on his rib. 
“We’re fine,” you assured Ellie quickly, raising your eyebrows at Joel, as if to say, right?
“Yeah,” he said, eyes sliding from you to her. “No one’s gonna find us out here. You should get some sleep, we’re movin’ early in the morning.”
She nodded, still looking somewhat unconvinced, before slipping into her sleeping bag and rolling over so that her back was to the pair of you. You stared at your partner for a moment, chest aching with anxiety, hating the way his tone of voice hadn’t calmed your nerves.
Too anxious to sit down and rest for a moment, you shouldered a hunting rifle instead, positioning yourself close to the truck, where you could see both of them clearly. Every few minutes you rotated your body, watching the trees from every angle, making sure you would notice if there was even the slightest sound or movement. You hands grew clammy where they held the gun, and you had to readjust your grip on it every once in a while.
“What’re you doin’?” Joel’s voice drifted over to you after a little while. You turned, huffing out a laugh when you saw him lazing on his sleeping bag, sipping from his flask of whiskey.
“What am I doing?” you chuckled. “What are you doing?”
“Getting’ drunk on the job,” he smirked, tipping his head back as he drank. You swallowed thickly, smile fading as you stared at his long, thick neck, and the way it was exposed when he tilted his chin up. It had been weeks since the two of you had done anything more than kiss, too preoccupied with Ellie, and getting to Wyoming.
It was as if Joel could sense where your thoughts had travelled, because his expression darkened, eyes squinting greedily at you from across the open space.
“Why don’t you come over here, darlin’,” he said, resting a hand on his thigh.
“Joel,” you warned quietly, but he just patted his thigh in encouragement, taking a long sip from his flask.
“Just c’mere.”
You spared a glance around you, will power hanging by a thread, but ultimately shook your head, refusing. Joel let out a huff and stood up. He moved slowly, eyes never straying from your face as he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting his prey. And you watched him, tongue darting out to wet your lips as he came to rest beside you, leaning against the truck. Doing your best not to look at him, you tightened your grip on the gun and allowed yourself to lean back against the vehicle as well.
Joel held out the flask to you. “What’s got you so worked up, sugar?”
Casting an irritated glance in his direction, you snatched the flask from his hand and took a long swig, welcoming the stinging distraction as the liquid burnt down your throat.
“You know I hate the dark,” is all you said.
He hummed from low in his throat, nodding once. He stretched out a hand and snagged one of your belt loops with his finger, tugging you quickly into his side. You stumbled into his chest with a sharp gasp of surprise.
“It’s not so bad,” his deep voice drawled, plush lips grazing your ear. You shivered, tucking the flask away before placing a hand on his chest, your fingertips digging into the soft muscle there. “Nothin’ scary about it.”
Joel let his nose trace along the shell of your ear, and then across your cheek, and then his fingers were gripping your chin, turning your face to his..
His lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, sucking and biting, lathing his tongue along your bottom lip until you welcomed him into your mouth with a pitiful sigh. His tongue pressed against yours, stroking slowly, coaxing your jaw open. You were vaguely aware of his other hand gripping the zip on your jacket and tugging it down. Heat flared in your abdomen, and you gripped the collar of his jacket, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and pulling back, enjoying the way he groaned as you stretched it out before releasing it with a wet pop.
You watched, glossy-eyed and already a little dazed, as Joel pried the gun out of your hands. He placed it gently onto the bed of the truck. His hand traced over your stomach, fisting the material intermittently, and then he was gripping your hips, spinning you so your chest was to the car, and he was pressed firmly against your back.
“Joel,” you muttered nervously, but he ignored you, sponging kisses behind your ear, suckling on the sensitive spot where your neck met your jaw. You could feel him, hot and hard against the curve of your ass. One of his hands drifted along the softness of your lower stomach, toying with the hemline of your shirt, and a stuttered gasp escaped your lips.
Sharp teeth grazed your neck, nipping at the skin and then he was lapping over it with his tongue, soothing the piercing ache he’d caused. You sighed at the feeling, rutting backward against him. You allowed your eyes to drift shut. And then they slammed back open again, as you realised neither of you would be keeping watch if you shut them. Joel’s face was hidden against your neck, there was no way he would see if anyone snuck up on the camp. Your heart thundered in your chest at the thought, and you kept your eyes open from then on.
“You smell so fuckin’ good,” he whispered against your skin, voice rough and wanton with need. “I’ve been missin’ you.”
“What abou-“
“She’s asleep,” he reassured, grip on your waist tightening. You could feel the way he was straining against his jeans, cock desperate and begging to be touched, as if he’d been thinking about this moment for hours, days, weeks. The ache between your thighs grew painful, and you rubbed against him harder.
“We have to be quiet,” you murmured quickly.
His only response was the distinct sound of his belt clinking, and then a shuffling noise as he dragged his pants low enough to free himself from the tight confines of his underwear. Not wasting a second, he gripped the waistband of your jeans and tugged them down as well, only satisfied when they rested around your knees, giving him full access to you.
One of his fingers glided messily between your folds and he sighed into your ear, marvelling at how wet you were for him already.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Wish I could put my mouth on you right now. Know you’d taste so good for me, baby, always do.”
You groaned. A soft, pathetic sound.
“It’s been so long,” he groused, and you murmured your agreement. It felt like you were suspended in the air, anticipation holding you firmly in its grasp as you waited for him to do something, anything. “Can’t stand it; s’all I could think about today.”
He tapped the rough pad of a finger against your clit and your entire body flinched forward against the car. As if he could sense the way your knees were buckling, his free arm wrapped around you, holding you up. You murmured his name desperately, hips pushing down against his hand.
“Should I fuck you with my fingers first?” he asked quietly, middle finger circling your entrance. “Or should I let my cock stretch you out?”
When you didn’t answer, mind too fuzzy to string a sentence together, he said, “Hmm?”
“Please,” you keened roughly, turning to glance at him over your shoulder. “Just want you, need you inside me.”
You saw the way the muscle in his jaw worked, lips pursed together as tension rolled through his shoulders. And then his cock was gliding through your folds, smearing your slick over his length, before the blunt tip of him nestled at your entrance. A harsh shout left your lips as he pushed himself, bottoming out in one thrust. Instantly, one of his hands slapped over your mouth, fingertips pressing into your cheek. Your eyes widened, darting around the clearing that surrounded you both on all angles.
“This ain’t gonna work if you do that,” Joel said gruffly, adjusting his hips so he pulled out halfway, before pressing himself back into you. The burn was delicious, and you fluttered around him, gripping him tightly after so much time missing him inside you. A garbled version of your name escaped him, and you whimpered in response, bucking your hips backwards, silently begging him to continue.
He set a gruelling pace, pressing into you relentlessly. One hand covered your mouth while the other gripped the front of your shirt tightly, holding your body still as he fucked into you. When your body jolted against the car from a particularly rough thrust, he muttered a gruff apology into your ear, but didn’t let up. Back arching, you contracted around him, revelling in the sound of the muted groans being let out against the back of your neck.
You bit down into his palm, a muffled cry escaping you. The thought of Ellie waking up and discovering the pair of you flitted through your mind and you cringed. But it disappeared from your mind just as quickly, Joel’s movements driving it away.
The air filled with sounds of heavy breaths and an odd squelching sound, as your slick squeezed around his cock and dripped out of you. Low curses spilled into the atmosphere, and Joel was saying something, speaking to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the roar of blood in your ears. Everything was heightening. The muscles in your abdomen tightened and twitched with every movement of him inside you, and your hips strained backwards, meeting him thrust for thrust. It was all so fast, so desperate, and your body was begging for release after being left untouched for weeks.
But right as you felt yourself reach a precipice, as Joel pushed himself to hit the deepest part of you, everything was ruined.
Because a violent image ripped through your mind of someone storming into the camp in that moment and dragging Ellie out of her sleeping bag. Of someone pointing a gun at you and Joel, while you were defenceless. The darkness of the night seemed to crush in around you, reminding you of its presence and suffocating you. Anybody, or anything, could be out there right now, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike.
Goosebumps rose across your skin. You gasped at the thought, icy dread spiralling through your veins, your orgasm drawing further and further from reach. Except Joel took your gasp as a good sign, and groaned in response, hand dropping your stomach to toy with your clit as his thrusts grew jerkier. You jerked against him, mewling into his hand. It felt good. It felt so fucking good, and yet you couldn’t focus, too distracted to lure back the orgasm that had been dancing in the edges of your periphery.  
Your head was a violent jumble of pleasure and panic. A devastated moan tumbled from your lips, mouth hanging open as the head of Joel’s cock angled against your g-spot.
“There?” he asked breathlessly, and you nodded, reaching to grip the back of his neck. He moved faster, pushing and pulling and hitting that spot over and over. And you could feel the coil inside of you burn again, liquid heat spreading through your limbs as your body tried to reach that high again, but it just wasn’t fast enough. The car was cold against the front of your body, and your brain was on such high alert, that you knew you wouldn’t be able to get there.
“Come with me,” Joel encouraged gruffly, fingertips holding your jaw in a bruising grip. “Come on now, let me have it.”
He was so close. You could feel it in the way his rapid heartbeat crashed against your back; in the ragged breaths that were exhaled across your neck. His hips were stuttering against you, thighs tense. And you wanted him to feel good. Wanted him to let go after so long – god, he deserved it. So you did something you’d never done with Joel before.
You faked it.
Your chin tilted upward to the sky, and you let deep, elongated breaths rattle through your chest, singing his name into the palm of his hand. Joel made a deep guttural sound. His fingers rubbed messy circles against your clit, and you bucked against him, heart thrashing in your chest. He said you’resotight, and you said I’m comingohgodJoelohfuck, and through it all, you could feel it growing inside of you. Your lungs burned inside your chest. He was stretching you so perfectly, so deliciously, and you let out a genuine moan at the feeling of his rough thrusts. You could feel him in the bones of your skull, in the tips of your toes, and in every inch of your body in between, and yet you needed more.
Joel trembled, his entire body shaking against yours. You felt his cock jump inside you in quick, jerky movements and clenched around him, and then he exhaled a deep groan, and went still.  
After a few moments, he pulled out, and you gasped at the cold sensation. Rapid breaths left his mouth, he peppered soft kisses down the side of your neck, removing his hand from your face only to wrap both arms around your torso and hold you against him. Your core ached, clenching around nothing as his spend seeped out of you, spilling onto your inner thighs.
Turning in his arms, you offered him a dazed look. Your body was hot, coiled like a string pulled taught, waiting to snap. He kissed you, with less rush this time, and you returned it lazily, reaching down to tug your pants up over your hips again. Your tried not to cringe as your underwear pressed against you. You were uncomfortably wet, and the cold material stuck to your tacky skin. Joel did the same.
Pulling back from the kiss, you rubbed the side of your jaw, flexing your mouth open in an attempt to soothe the ache that had settled there. Joel watched you all the while. His dark eyes flickered over your face, trying to see you through the darkness.
“You good?” he asked quietly, at the same time as you heard a twig snap somewhere in the trees, off to your left. Your head snapped to the side, eyes glaring out through the thick inky black, ears straining. “Baby?”
“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head slowly. “Thought I heard something.”
Strong fingers gripped your chin, turning you to face him once more. A frown had settled across his face, eyebrows drawn tight across his forehead. His lips were a thin line, and his chest still shook as he regulated his breathing, but you could see it there; the understanding. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as nervousness zipped through your body. He knew. There was no way, you told yourself. No way he could have known. And yet the longer you stared at each other, the deeper his frown got.
Wordlessly, his hand dropped between your bodies, and he pressed his palm against your mound through your pants. A soft sound of surprise escaped your mouth as his fingers curled against you, pressing against where your clit ached. You whimpered softly, numb fingers gripping his hand and holding it against you. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and you stilled, hand going lax on top of his.
“Fuck,” Joel said gruffly. “Fuck.”
You opened your mouth to speak, to deny it, to tell him it was fine, to say anything, but a rustling sound caught both of your attention. It was coming from the same spot as before, only this time it seemed louder, more pronounced. Your breathing paused.
“Get in the truck,” he said.
“Joel,” you tried, panic laced through your voice.
“Get in the truck now,” he said, grabbing the hunting rifle from the truck bed. “I’ll get the kid.”
Blood rushed in your ears as you walked swiftly to the passenger side of the truck, swinging yourself up into the seat and shutting the door behind you as softly as possible. Anxious goosebumps rippled across your skin as you stared out the window into the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of Ellie or Joel. Minutes passed, and then the doors opened, and Ellie slumped inside, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, as Joel slammed into the driver’s seat, starting the car and tearing out of the field.
“Did you see anything?” Ellie asked from the backseat.
“No,” he said, not looking at either of you.
“Then why are w-“
“Go back to sleep,” Joel ordered her firmly, and you cringed at his tone, turning in your chair to offer her a sympathetic smile. She didn’t return it, laying down across the backseats and turning her back on the pair of you.
The car was entirely silent as Joel drove the three of you back onto a road, and continued heading towards Kansas City. And as much as your body yearned for sleep, you found yourself wide awake, eyes focused out the windscreen, watching the tarnished landscape pass you by, exposed up by the car’s headlights.
After an hour of driving, Joel finally spoke.
“Ellie?” he said, tone even.
No response came from the back seat. You watched him out of the corner of your eye. He repeated her name.
Satisfied when there was no response, he spared a glance in your direction, before turning back to look at the road.
As if against your own will, you whispered his name quietly, pleadingly.
“Don’t,” he practically growled.
“I’m s-“
“You thought I wouldn’t know?” his lip curled upward, a grimace painting his face. “Think that I don’t know you well enough to know when you’re faking it?”
Your entire body stilled. Heat prickled across your skin, and you prayed to a god you didn’t believe in that Ellie was truly asleep in the backseat. Your hands were clammy, and you wiped them fruitlessly against the material of your jeans, unsure of what to say. He waited for you to speak, and when you didn’t, a loose sigh rattled from his chest.
“You do this thing,” he said quietly. “When you come.”
“What?”
“This huge smile,” he frowned. “Like you can’t help yourself. Like it felt so good, that you can’t control your face, and you smile so big I can see every one of the fuckin’ teeth in your skull.”
“Joel—"
“Every time,” he interrupted firmly.
“I-“
“And I didn’t realise,” he whispered harshly. “How much I look for it – that I wait for it, I god damn expect it.”
“I’m sorry,” you murmured feebly, heat flashing through you. You gazed at the side of his tense face, stomach twisting at his words. You’d never known you did that. Never known he would notice if one day you didn’t.
“You’re sorry?” Joel scoffed. His hands gripped the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. “You should be angry.”
You watched him with bated breath.
“First time I touched you in weeks, and I didn’t even make sure…,” he trailed off, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. “Like you’re some fuckin’ toy.”
“It was good, Joel,” you spoke in a hushed tone, glancing over your shoulder at Ellie’s back. “I swear, I was just distracted, and it was dark, an-“
“It’s not good with me,” he said curtly, and you stopped, wetting your lips anxiously.
Before you could say anything else, a soft murmuring came from the backseat, as Ellie started to wake up once more. You cringed, straightening in your seat and returning your gaze to the road ahead.
“This isn’t over,” Joel said, voice rough. And when he turned his head to look at you, just for a second, you nodded in acknowledgement. A dark glint of determination shone in his eyes, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
A long, tense day passed by before Joel could get you alone again. You felt the frustration rolling off of him in waves. Those dark eyes watched you, uncaring of whether you noticed or not, his hands twitching towards you whenever you were close, aching to touch you, to repent. Without a chance to shower, you spent the entire day with a sticky reminder of the night before. You were uncomfortably wet, your own slick mixed with Joel’s come making a mess of your underwear, streaking down your thighs inside your trousers.
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It was late afternoon by the time he spotted a house in the distance, and when he pulled up outside of it, he ordered you and Ellie to stay in the car while he checked it out.
“I’m fucking exhausted,” she said from the backseat, as soon as Joel was out of earshot.
“Me too, kid,” you muttered, eyes on the front door until he reappeared, giving the all clear for you both to get out of the truck and go inside.
“There’s a few rooms,” he told you as you looked around the house, eyes drifting over the dusty furniture, bookshelves, dining table. “Two down here, one upstairs.”
“Shotgun upstairs,” Ellie said quickly, heading towards the staircase at the end of the hall.
“Are you hungry?” Joel called out to her back.
Ellie paused at the bottom of the stairs and gave him a look that said what do we even have to eat? But all she said was that she was gonna crash, and grumbled something about him never letting her get any sleep as she marched up the creaking steps.
“I think I’m gonna get some sleep as well,” you yawned, stretching your arm out against your chest. Joel’s eyes flashed to yours, and he huffed quietly.
“Is that right?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You faltered, pulse quickening at the insinuation laced in his words.
“I—”
“First door on the right,” he motioned his head towards the hallway, and you followed him wordlessly towards the room.
It was small, cosy. Late afternoon light gleamed in through a north facing window, and the sun’s rays shone across a double bed in the middle of the room, and a bare side table. Silently, Joel stripped the sheets off the bed, leaving them in a pile on the floor before unzipping his sleeping bag and draping it across the mattress.
“You tired?”
You watched his hands as they spread the sleep bag out, flattening out any lumps in it. Thick, long fingers pressed against the material, and heat spread through your lower stomach.
“Yes,” you said honestly, and he nodded, tilting his head to look at you. You unzipped your jeans and discarded them on the floor before crawling onto the bed.
“How tired?” Joel queried, kicking his shoes off and joining you on the mattress. He rested back on his heels, hands splaying across your kneecaps as he gazed down at you.
You mmm’d from the back of your throat, wetting your lower lip. “Not too tired.”
The muscle in his jaw jumped as his eyes drifting across your body, down your bare thighs, to rest on the dark spot on the front of your panties. His fingers traced down your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake, until he gripped the hem of your underwear.
He pulled them down your legs, tantalisingly slow, and you watched with wide eyes as he lifted the ruined material up to his face. Maintaining eye contact, he held them over his mouth and nose, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away as he inhaled deeply. Heat soared across your cheeks, and you would have been ashamed, if it weren’t for the way you could see him beginning to bulge against the zipper of his jeans, hot and hard for you.
“I want you,” you whispered brokenly. Joel dropped your underwear onto the bed beside your body.
“I know,” he gritted his teeth, sliding his palms down your inner thighs and prying them apart so he could settle in between them.
One hand raised to cup your face and you smiled, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. His thumb grazed your bottom lip in a silent request, and you parted them for him instantly, welcoming the digit into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, wetting it, and watched intensely as he lowered his hand down your body, and pressed the finger between your folds.
“Christ,” he cursed, mouth falling ajar as he felt you. “You been like this all day?”
“Yes, yes,” you whimpered.   
“Then I’m a fuckin’ monster,” he chuckled mirthlessly, staring between your legs with hooded eyes. “Left my best girl all worked up. God, darlin’, look at you; dripping wet for me, desperate for something to come on.”
“Please,” you exhaled sharply. “I need you, want your cock inside me so bad.”
He tutted quietly, shaking his head a little. “You think I deserve it?” his eyes flashed to yours, mouth downturned. “Think I deserve to be inside this pretty pussy, when I’ve been so mean to it?”
Your thighs tensed painfully as his finger started rubbing lightly against your bundle of nerves.
“Because I don’t,” he said ruefully. “Think I need to make it up to you first, what do you think, baby?”
“Okay,” you exhaled.
“And we aren’t finished unless you come,” he said darkly. “Do you understand?”
Your lips felt numb, tongue heavy in your mouth as you stared up at him through hooded eyes. Joel glared down at you, nostrils flared. “Say you understand.”
“I understand,” you finally mewled in frustration, twitching into the mattress as his thumb swiped over your pulsing clit. “F-fuck, Joel, please.”
His finger dragged between the swollen lips of your pussy, spreading you open so he could see your glistening core. He swore under his breath, the tip of his thumb gliding over your entrance where he could see remnants of his seed still easing out of you. His knees thudded against the old mattress as he dragged himself down the bed, and then his mouth was on you.
“Ohhh,” an exaggerated moan left your mouth, leaving your lips parted in an O shape as your head dropped back into the pillow. His tongue flattened to lick a stripe up your core, all the way from your entrance to above your clit and you shuddered into his mouth, crying out at the contact. His hands gripped your thighs and dragged them over his shoulders, pushing his face deeper into you.
Joel’s nose dragged across your clit as his tongue circled your entrance, and slurping noises filled the air as he cleaned the remnants of himself from your hole. You gasped, fire racing through your veins at the idea of him drinking down his own come, and your hips bucked off the bed. The tips of his fingers dug into your thighs in a silent warning to stay still. You clawed your nails into his scalp, raking through his messy hair, doing your best not to absolutely writhe against his face.
He groaned against you, pulling back momentarily to smirk up at you, your slick shining on his lips and beard. It was shameful, the way the noises he made went to your head. The deep, growling moans, the way his hums vibrated against you. You absorbed them and filed them away into your memory, somewhere only for you to ever see. Your hips framed his face, thighs bracketed over his shoulders as he gripped them, no doubt leaving bruises where his fingertips dug into your flesh.
Joel worked painstakingly slowly at first. His hot, long tongue glided along the entirety of you, and then he dipped it inside your weeping hole. Your eyes rolled back as he pumped his hot muscle in and out of you, until you were begging him to just please fuck me Joel please I’m sorry, but then he just sped up, moving upward to flick the tip of his tongue across your clit. You gasped, back arching off the bed as he swiped back and forth sharply, his lips suctioning around it as he abused your swollen clit.
And then one of his hands disappeared, and he eased a long, thick finger inside of you. He stroked along your walls, hooking his finger against your g-spot as you cried out his name, clenching around the digit. Encouraged by the response, he swiftly pushed a second finger inside, scissoring them and stretching you out as he sponged messy kisses against your clit.
Your mind was a blur. “Shit, Joel.”
Every single nerve, every point of feeling in your entire body, was directed to the apex of your thighs, and you trembled with the intensity of it. Every kiss, every lick, every suck was a reverent apology, a vow to never let it happen again. Joel was on his knees at the altar of his god, begging for forgiveness, and you were more than happy to grant it.
It felt like your chest was being ripped open as heavy breaths worked their way out of your burning lungs, heavy panting mixing in the air with the sounds of his tongue gliding through your wetness. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and you moaned roughly as he let his teeth skate ever so slightly over your clit.
His fingers pumped inside you, curling against the roof of your channel in a continuous motion as his tongue rolled against your nerves. It sent a familiar fire spreading through your abdomen, warming your entire chest, until you were gasping for air, jaw aching as it hung open, in awe of every point of contact he had with your body.
You clenched painfully tight, pussy squeezing around his fingers as his tongue swiped back and forth across your clit. Joel hummed in encouragement, mouth buzzing against you in a way that sent you careening towards the edge even faster. It seemed like every muscle in your body was tightening. Arms tensed awkwardly, one hand buried in his hair, the other twisted in the sheets beside you. Thighs pressed against the side of his head, stomach burning as he built you up and up and up and—
“Oh, oh my—fucking god,” you sobbed as your orgasm hit, and Joel braced you against the bed, working you through it. Pleasure rushed through you like an avalanche. Stars burst behind your eyelids, and you let go of everything that had ever existed in your world except for Joel. You lost yourself in him; in the glide of his tongue against your core, in the way your fingers twisted in his hair, in the rough scrape of his beard against your inner thighs. He was everywhere, everything.
In time, you were vaguely aware of him pulling back, of only the drag of his fingers inside you remaining, and you knew he must have been watching you, raking in the sight of you so exposed.
“There you go,” you could hear him saying, somewhere past the ringing in your ears. “Give it t’me. That’s it, look so pretty like this, all fucked out just for me.”
And when he dragged his fingers out of you, it was only to make room for his head to drop down once more to suck and lick at where your orgasm dripped out of you, moaning as he went, desperate not to miss a single drop.
Finally, after the final waves of your climax had settled, and your limbs dropped heavily against the bed, he kissed his way up your body, wet mouth leaving a shimmering trail along your skin until he reached your face and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He pulled back after a moment, and you breathed deeply, lost in the way the sunlight danced across the back of your eyelids. You weren’t aware of the corners of your mouth tilting upward, of your lips peeling back to reveal your teeth as you grinned brazenly, cool relief coursing through you.
“Look at that,” Joel’s voice brought you back down to earth, and you blinked heavily, trying to focus your bleary eyes on his face. His hair was messy, a dark rough halo around his head as the sunlight shone around him. One side of his mouth was pointed upward, a small smirk decorating his features. “There’s that smile.”
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5K notes · View notes
misserabella · 1 month
Text
brat
spencer reid x f! reader
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summary; spencer decides it’s a good day to test your patience by being sassy with you. let’s see if he can keep the act up when you’re punishing him for being a fucking brat.
cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, s1/s2 spence!, spencer being a brat, cursing, fighting, kind of enemies to lovers, secret relationship, handcuffing (bondage), handjob (s receiving), masturbation (r) (spencer watches), orgasm denial, edging, untouched orgasm, lots of begging, dirty talking, dom! reader and sub! spencer, multiple orgasms, brat taming, piv sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this guys), breeding kink?, hickeys, creampie…
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spencer was having a really shitty day. firstly; he had tripped with the sheets of his bed and landed onto the floor with a grunt, secondly; the coffee shop he always stopped by had closed for the day for some electric problems, what left him without his favorite sugary order and with the really not that great tasting bau’s coffee, thirdly; he was stressed out from the constant load of work, specially this really hard case, and lastly; you hadn’t touched him in a week. a whole fucking week.
spencer and you had this… thing going on. it all started after a rough case in which the two of you had fallen into each other’s arms and ended up sleeping together, something that surprised the two of you, since your relationship wasn’t “the best” to be frank. you two argued and bickered a lot like two little kids with crushes, and had been dancing around each other for quite a long time. it was obvious that you liked each other, but nothing had happened until that night. and after that you two were hooked. of course, the team didn’t know. and you had decided that they wouldn’t yet.
“okay, what about those marks on their bodies, they’re not found exactly in the same place or have the same shape but maybe…”
“no offense, y/n, but you don’t really know what you’re talking about do you?” your mouth gaped slightly at the ring in his tone and the squinting of his eyes. you stalked him as he got up from his seat and went towards the board of evidence, taking a marker and starting to write. “we have no evidence, no apparent interaction between the unsub and the victims pre or post mortem and an indistinguishable mo…” he turned around to face the team once again. “should be simple.” he arched his brows with a mocking pout pulling from his pinky lips as sarcasm tinged his voice.
“you know…?” you looked at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “instead of taking your fucking temper out on us because you’ve had a shitty day, you could take all that energy and use it to help us, reid.” you had to bite down an impressed chuckle by pushing your tongue against the inside of your cheek as his pretty hazel eyes rolled at your words.
“and you should save your comments concerning your hate towards me ‘cause it’s hard to give a fuck when you’re the smartest motherfucker in the fbi.”
“spencer.” hotch cut the two of you off before the situation could escalate. “take 5.” he ordered.
“but-“
“now.” he silently thew the marker on the table and walked out of the door, leaving the team astonished by his behavior.
derek whistled, shock written over his face. “what was that?”
you gritted your teeth. fucking brat.
“no fucking idea.” you hissed.
seems like you’d have to teach him a lesson.
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“please…!” he’s whimpering, thrashing, his wrists becoming raw from the tugging against the handcuffs that restrained him to the head of your bed.
his cock was beautifully swollen and heavy on your palm, slicked with your spit and his dribbling precum, which can’t stop dripping from the red flushed head. you’re chuckling. his mind was dizzy with the need to cum, his hips sputtering up against the warmth of your hand in need of release. you’d been at this for a while now, bringing him to the edge of an orgasm just to stop all together, squeezing his base, edging him, driving him insane.
“please, i’m sorry…” he begged, gasping, his breathing was ragged, his back arching from the bed you had pinned him down to. you bit harshly down onto his neck, sucking a new bruise that made him whine.
“what did you do, hm?” you inquired him before starting to jerk him once again, humming when more pre cum stained your fingers and the back of your hand. he was making such a fucking mess. he was a fucking mess. and you loved it.
“i-i was a brat…” he whined and you chuckled again at his desperate and breathy answer.
“yeah?”
“yes, yes…” he sounded desperate. it was cute.
“what else?”
“i…” a moan left his lips at the movement of your hand on his cock, up and down, slowly. he was getting lost in that pretty little head of his again. so you stopped, making a pained sound leave his plushy lips. “no, please! please don’t stop!”
“answer me and i’ll keep going, pretty boy.” you thumbed his slit and his whole body shivered in a pretty whine.
“i talked bad at you…” he gulped. “i…i was disrespectful in front of the team.” he gasped, flinching and moaning when you squeezed him. “oh god. fuck. please, please…”
“atta boy. see? that wasn’t difficult.” his adam’s apple bobbed when you spat down on the head of his twitching pretty dick, slicking him up even if he didn’t need it and starting the process of bringing him to the edge once again. after the stress, pent up energy of a whole week and your touch and teasing, it was easy to drive him right to it in a record time. he was a mess of moans and whines, his hips bucking up in the heat and slick of your palm. “looks like you’re about to cum, baby. are you gonna cum?” you inquired him, going faster up and down his cock, and he nodded, whispering little ‘yes’s in between gasps. “i don’t think you deserve it, though, you’ve been such a fucking brat, spencer…” he whimpered. “and all of it for what, hm?” pretty tears started to swell in his eyes as you pushed away your touch from him.
“i just… i just wanted you to touch me.” he whispered, hurt, puppy eyes behind his glasses staring up at you.
“so you went ahead and acted like a fucking brat expecting to win it that way?” you chuckled, incredulous.
he crooked his head, his mouth gaping like a fish in search of words. “please…”
“some pretty pleases ain’t gonna cut it.” you got up and started to undress in front of his eyes, his beautiful cock was flushed and resting against his lower stomach, dribbling white pearls of precum onto his skin. you smirked when you saw it twitch at the sight of your body only on your lace bra and panties. spencer tugged on his restrains when you cupped your breasts obscenely once you had unclasped and thrown away your bra into the pile of clothes decorating the floor of the room. “you like the view, spence?”
his eyes squeezed shut. you were toying with him. he painfully whined, but he still —knowing better— nodded, licking his lips. you hummed, your hands coming down to your panties, your smirk growing when you watched as his eyes followed the trail down and tugged once again at the handcuffs. “you want me to take them off, hm?”
“yes…” he nodded eagerly, his cock twitching at the idea. “please.” he added.
“such good manners… this is what you needed isn’t it, baby? just a little lesson.” you purred, and pushed down the last piece of clothing on your body past your thighs until it fell pooling at your feet. spencer whined needily at the view. you crawled into the bed once again, seating yourself in front of him and spreading open your legs for his hungry eyes. he let out a shaky breath at the sight of your sticky folds and gaping entrance, begging to be filled by him. you hummed as one of your hands made its way down your stomach and in between your legs, your back slightly arching with a soft moan as your fingers bumped your clit. you were soaking wet. spencer moaned as well, fighting his restrains. “hmmm, spencer…” you sighed, touching yourself in front of his hungry eyes, he whined, in need to put his hands on you. “you see this baby? if only you’d been good… you could be fucking me right now…” he whimpered, his hips bucking up in the air in need of relieve.
“please… please, let me touch you, please…” he begged. “i’ll be good, i promise…” you sank two of your fingers inside of your pussy, gasping at the stretch and letting out a moan at the feeling as you started to slowly thrust them in and out. “please baby, please… i need you, i need to touch you…” he pleaded but you ignored him, continuing to touch and pleasure yourself in between gasps and moans. he whined, swallowing harshly, the sound and sight of you was enough to make him about to blow his load. he grunted as he fought with the handcuffs, his cock throbbing in need to be deep inside your cunt.
your fingers curled and your back arched. “fuck, spence…!” he was sure you were moaning his name just to rile him up. and it was working. his wrists were bruised by now, the same color of the hickeys on his neck and chest that you had branded.
“please…” he was desperate now. “please baby, please…”
“spence, i’m gonna cum…!” you gasped, speeding up the curling of your fingers. he whined, it was as if you were touching him, his cock throbbing against his stomach, now with a pool of precum decorating it. he was so close to his own orgasm it scared him. he was not the most experienced, but he had never come untouched, and it was astonishing, ‘cause he was about to do it just by watching you. and it felt so good…
he groaned when he saw it, the way your back arched, the way your mouth hung in a scream and the way creamy white cum coated your fingers and dribbled down onto the mattress, staining the sheets.
he moaned out your name in heavy pants. “i can’t… i can’t.” he babbled. “i can’t hold it…!” he moaned, his hips grinding against the air once, twice, thrice before he was cumming all over himself. untouched. like a fucking teenager.
holy fuck. spencer had come untouched. the thought of it was enough to drive you inane.
“mmph!!!” he moaned once again at the feeling of your tongue on his dick, licking him and his skin clean of his cum. “f-fuck!!” his hips twitched up, and a broken whimper ripped his throat when you straddled him, your soaked cunt against his still sensitive —and hardening— dick. “what are you-oh my god…!” he babbled, his back arching when in a quick succession of movements, you took him, aligned him with your entrance and sat down on him down to the hilt.
“you wasted that pretty load, pretty boy…” you moaned as you started to dirtily ride him, hips and jumps on his cock desperate. you didn’t even wait for the burning of the stretch to subside. “but that’s okay, ‘cause you’re gonna give me another one, huh? gonna cum for me and fill my pussy up just like you wanted.” he whimpered, his body shaking in overstimulation, his hazel puppy eyes welling with tears. “isn’t this what you wanted, baby? what you were begging for?” you sped up and he moaned.
“i can’t, oh god, i can’t…” but he still somehow found himself thrusting up against you in need for more.
“your body doesn’t say the same thing, baby.” you chuckled, amazed by the beautiful reactions he was giving you. “you’re so hard already… and you just came.” you hummed as you bounced on his cock, the tip kissing your cervix with every jump. he moaned, his glasses slightly fogged and crooked, his hair messy and with some strands glued in sweat against his temple and his lips swollen from all the biting. “so pretty… god and you fuck me so good baby, fill me so good…” he whined, gone under the thought of you using him like some toy to get off. he wasn’t even fighting to get off the handcuffs anymore, he was just taking it, and letting you take anything you wanted from him. “being so good for me, spence…” he keened under the praise, his dick twitching in between your walls due to your speeding movements. he wasn’t gonna last. and you knew it.
“i’m-i’m gonna cum…” he moaned, panting, his eyes squeezing shut. “i need to cum… please, please can i cum?” “can i come inside? please let me cum inside, please…” he was begging, and you moaned, feeling your own high approaching, every thrust of his hips up against yours pressing against that perfect spot in between your gummy walls.
“yes, yes, cum inside me baby, fill me up.” you whimpered behind him, your mouth gaping when you felt it, his sticky warm load painting your walls as you kept bouncing on him. “oh my god…”
“fuck, ah, fuckfuckfuck!” he moaned and babbled as he felt you reaching your own high, squeezing and milking him dry.
you two moved against each other to ride out your orgasms, leaving a mess out of the sheets and his cock, now drenched in both your juices.
the two of you were panting as you stilled, his softening dick still inside you as you rested your hands on his chest.
“lesson learned?” you questioned and he gulped, nodding, out of air.
“lesson learned.” “…” “can you uncuff me now?”
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bratty spencer💚
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delewlew · 2 months
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can you watch my boyfriend for me: charles leclerc x black fem! reader °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
request: Can you do the “watch my bf for me” with Charles and he gets nervous and call for yn to come back pretty pretty please 🙏🏾
warnings: none
author's note: this one is a little short cuz i was running on no sleep and good vibes...but it's not too short i hope! please let me know how yall like this one. comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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never in a million years did you see yourself dating someone like charles leclerc. it wasn't that you didn't believe someone like him could find you attractive because to be quite frank, you were stunning and you knew it. the thing was you didn't picture yourself in love with someone who had the social status charles held. you'd assumed that rather than being in love with you he'd be in love with himself, instead of feeding his family he'd be more fixated on feeding his ego. however, upon meeting him for the first time you realized that those were simply preconceived notions that couldn't be further from the truth. that gentle smile and welcoming gaze wasn't a facade to draw girls like you in to become a pawn in some twisted romance game. he was genuinely a sweet and loving man who had nothing but love to give.
you met charles a year ago in baku at the azerbaijan grand prix after you'd been invited to attend because you worked as an influencer. it was your first time attending a grand prix and you got the complete hook up. it was qualifying day and you'd showed up to the paddock ready to enjoy the day in the early morning when there was a problem with security. for whatever reason the security guards were refusing to let you enter the paddock despite having proper identification. then, like an answer to your prayers a young man with ice blue eyes and the most perfect dimples came to your rescue, informing the staff that you were with him. a year later and here you were, actually with him but as a girlfriend instead of a stranger looking for help.
the social media following on all of your pages grew massively but you remained the same person you'd been before any of this happened. sure, now you were sitting in the ferrari garage every weekend, getting invited to more exclusive events, and getting spoiled by your boyfriend to where he had to lift the spending limit on his credit card. but you were still the same girl as you'd always been, posting videos that made you happy and getting paid for it.
𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊
summer break had just begun for charles which meant that you had him all to yourself until he had to return back to work. this also meant you had to find a way to create content that would still garner enough attention when there weren't races for you to post about attending. you didn't like posting about your relationship in general because it felt unauthentic. your relationship wasn't the only defining thing about you and your career, it came after, so you preferred to keep work and personal life separate even if there is a little overlap between the two. but, the new tiktok trend you'd seen on your for you page was enough to convince you to break your personal rule, just this once.
you'd surprised charles with tickets to mauritius for break since he'd mentioned to you a few months ago that he'd love to go one day. so for the next week you and him were going to be spending time in paradise and you couldn't be happier. the two of you all had agreed on a 'no phones' policy, only agreeing to upload a photo dump at the end of the trip. until then you both were only going to take pictures and videos on your devices, or just 'live in the moment' and keep things exclusively to memory. however, before you both were going to turn off your access to social media, you wanted to hop on one last trend:
you were sitting on charles' lap as you gently braided the stems of small yellow flowers together. in front of you, your phone was propped your phone up against the small vase that sat at the center of the table. the video was already recording and you pretended that you were making a tutorial for how to make a flower crown. it was obvious charles was paying no attention to what you were doing by the way his head rested on shoulder with his face not visible to the camera. his hand rested at your hip with his thumb hooked through the belt loop of your jeans. he was busy looking at his phone in his free hand, going through random social media posts.
charles heard you murmur something but he wasn't paying too much attention so he assumed it was something about your flowers. he only looked up when you slipped from his hold. you simply said, "hold on- he'll show you how to do it." you handed charles the nearly finished flower chain and ran off before he could even object. your boyfriend froze awkwardly for a minute, his eyes darting from the camera to six other spots in the room as he clearly waited for you to come back. there was a soft hum he let out then he muttered, "i do not know where she went off to. but she told me to show you so...i guess i show you what to do."
silence fell over the room as charles was very focused and made attempts to demonstrate how you'd been weaving the flowers together. his cheeks flushed pink and his palms grew sweaty as he messed up three times in a row, that dimpled grin that you fell for long ago making an appearance. after the longest minute of his life he finally caved, "Ma chérie, reviens s'il te plaît, je ne peux pas faire ça." you let out a loud laugh and ran back into the room with a smile on your face as you sat back on charles' lap and he tucked his face into the back of your shoulder. [my darling come back please, i can't do this]
you examined the woven flowers and let out a soft giggle, "aw charlie you kinda made it worse." his arms wrapped around your torso holding you tighter to his lap as if he was worried you'd run off again leaving him alone. he let out a muffled reply, "then stay with me and show me how to fix it."
𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊
the end.
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steviesummer · 1 year
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inspired by and as a direct follow up to this post by @strangersteddierthings:
Eddie is horrified. He remembers the day Steve is referring to, though clearly not as well as Steve does. He calls out as Steve raced up the stairs and hears his door slam.
“Fuck.” He stares blankly at the wall in front of him. He can’t believe things went so bad so quickly. He’s been trying to get to know Steve better, get closer and damn if he didn’t just blow the hole thing. He’d shown up early, told Steve he needed to prepare as an excuse to spend some time with him. Despite everything that happened over spring break, Steve had remained guarded, standoffish no matter what Eddie tried. At least now he knew why. He’d fucked things up before he’d known there was something to fuck up.
He feels even worse about calling him a bully. Sure, Steve had looked the other way and even laughed at some of the mean jokes others had made, but he was far from the worst. That dubious award went to Billy Hargrove, but even without him, there was plenty of people who did far worse than Steve did. Especially because Steve is right. He did hit first, metaphorically at least. He can justify it all he wants as trying to protect himself, but that doesn’t make it right. Steve all but admitted that as he said the same thing. He feels nauseous at the realization that maybe he was just as bad as those he decried. That for all his talk about accepting outcasts and defying convention, he was just as prejudiced. Swallowing hard, he heads back to the dining room and looks at the clock. There is no way he is going to be able to run the campaign today. He’s not going to be able to focus or even play without thinking about how things might have been if he hadn’t driven Steve off all those years ago. He grabs the phone and dials Gareth’s number. “Emerson house, Sheryl speaking.” “Hi Mrs. Emerson, it’s Eddie.” Eddie is proud that he manages to keep his voice even. “Is Gareth there?” “Oh, yes! Let me go get him for you.” “Thanks Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie focuses on breathing while he waits. “Eddie? Hey man, what’s up?” Eddie breathes out. “Hey Gareth. Look, I know its last minute, but we’re gonna have to postpone Hellfire. Something came up.” He could hear Gareth’s frown through the phone. “Postpone? What happened, did Harrington do something?” As if he couldn’t feel worse. “Nah. I’ll explain later, but can you call Jeff and Frank, let them know? I gotta call the freshman, too.” “Alright, but I’m going to hold you to that.” “Fair enough. Talk to you tomorrow.” Eddie promises before hanging up. He weighs his options for how to tell the Party. Eventually, he decides on calling Mike, know that the younger teen won’t push too much. He’s dialing the Wheeler home before he can second guess his decision. “This is Mike.” Eddie feels a rush of gratitude that Mike is the one who answered, rather than Nancy or one of their parents. “Hey Mike, it’s Eddie. Listen, Steve’s not feeling great and having Hellfire here isn’t going to help. Can you call the rest of the Party, let them know we’re gonna move it to another day? I’ll keep an eye on Steve.” Eddie knows Mike is a confused, given how adamant he’s been in the past about not canceling or moving Hellfire, but as he expected, Mike accepts what he says at face value. “Sure. Need us to bring anything?” “Nah, I’ve got it. Pretty sure he just needs some peace and quiet so he can rest. But thanks.” They say their goodbyes and Eddie puts the phone back on the hook.  With that done, he checks that the door is locked and faces the stairs. Now for the hard part. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, if there is anything he can say that will fix this, but he has to try. Even if doesn’t change things between him and Steve, Steve deserves at least that much. Every step feels like it takes effort, chest heavy with guilt, but it only takes him a few moments to get to Steve’s door. It’s closed, which doesn’t surprise him. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before knocking. Nothing. “Steve?” If it wasn’t for the quiet sound of Steve’s breathing he could hear through the door, Eddie would think he had left. He glad that he at least didn’t drive Steve out of his own home. He rests his forehead on the door. “I’m sorry.” Eddie hopes Steve can hear how much he means it. “You’re right, I fucked up. I made an assumption and took out my anger at other people on you. And that wasn’t fair and it’s not okay. But I want you to know that I’m sorry. Even if it wasn’t you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He lets out a hysterical laugh as he realizes - “And despite that, you still humor the kids when they talk about D&D and agreed to let us play here and didn’t punch me in the face, which makes you a better man than I.” He falls silent, listens as Steve’s breathing slows. He isn’t sure how long he stands there. He wonders how many other people he hurt this way, without even realizing. Knows he wants to do better, be better. He sighs, feeling his shoulders slump. “Anyway, I canceled Hellfire for today. I told everyone something came up, don’t worry about that. I’ll make up some story, make sure they know its not your fault. And uh,  let me know if you want to hang out again or something. I know I’ve been around a lot; didn’t realize that I was making you so uncomfortable, which is probably another thing I should apologize for. Anyway. Yeah. I’ll see you around, okay?” He waits a moment for an answer, but when none comes, he backs away from the door and walks downstairs to gather his stuff. It hurts, but he knows Steve deserves space and to be the one to initiate contact. He has some thinking to do, anyway.
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