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ghoulphile · 11 months ago

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sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position.

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.”

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

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theyhitthepentagon · 2 years ago

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best thing about poptarts is u can keep them out over night and eat them in the morning when ur actually hungry enough for the second one. with no repercussions either

#my truth #not like i get any repercussions from eating food that was left out over night btw. its my joy #ate shrimp fried rice that was left out for 8 hours and nothing even happened #i put a hot dog in my nighstand drawer so i could eat it a day or 2 later and get sick and not have to go to school but nothing happened #im just stroung.even when i dont want to be.........

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mars-ipan · 7 months ago

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i want to order soul food so bad but also before i left my mom mentioned us “having a lot of food in the house” so now i feel bad abt the idea of ordering food

#marzi speaks #she didn’t intentionally guilt me it’s the anxiety acting up methinks #but like. 90% of the food in the house rn either takes spoons to cook (which i don’t have atm)#or is leftovers that aren’t mine. and i don’t wanna eat everyone else’s unwanted leftovers!#i know my appetite is high right now but i don’t want to just eat everyone’s scraps #makes me feel like a dog in a negative unfun way #plus almost all of the leftovers are like. greasy. and i do not have that in me rn #my stomach. does NOT want anything greasy #i just want soul food…. fried catfish… candied yams… okra…#it’s gentle and warm and kind to my stomach. and it makes you feel better #and i’ve been feeling kind of shit today and just want my simple southern comforts is that so much to ask #chicken fried steak with gravy would also lowkey hit but that’s more emotional. in my heart i want soul food

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tyunniez · 1 year ago

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golden retriver... bttm male reader

!!.. golden retriever bsf, yn is slightly tipsy but still fully aware, rough sex, creampie, grinding.

if your best friend is a dog type he would be a golden retriever.

he's quite literally the embodiment of it. everywhere you go he follows behind, a happy smile plastered on his face. he was almost like a lost puppy.

he also loves taking care of you and doing things for you every chance he gets, even things you could do yourself!

" yn, good morning! here, i got you your favorite drink. " he practically shoved said drink into your hand, your half-asleep state still trying to comprehend your surroundings.

" huh.. oh hey. thanks... " you groggily said, stepping away from the door and heading towards the bathroom to freshen yourself up. he let himself into your place, already familiar with it.

you came back to see him cooking your breakfast, humming a soft tune while placing your eggs on the plate. " yn, come sit down. "

you sighed while taking a sit on the stool of your island, your eyes boring into his back as you watched him lightly sway to the song he was humming.

" you know you don't need to cook me breakfast almost every day right? " you cracked open the drink he bought you and took a big gulp, already feeling rejuvenated by the drink.

he hummed and placed the breakfast in front of you, sliding his own portion next to yours. " eat up! "

after the delicious breakfast, came the time for you to do your house chores. you got up and grabbed both of his and yours plated, bringing it to the sink to clean it.

only for him to snatch it from you and wash it himself. along with the stacks of dirty dishes in your sink. you only rolled your eyes and walked away to do other stuff, knowing fighting against him would just be useless.

" so any plans today? " you asked him while folding your remaining laundry, him soon joining you. " ..mm nah. what's up? " he folded the last article of clothing and lay beside you, opting to place his head on your thigh.

your hand found its place in his hair almost immediately as if it was muscle memory. " well that one show that I've been wanting to watch finally dropped so.. beer and chicken tonight? "

he snickered below you, " you already know my answer, of course! "

and so, cans after cans of beer later and some delicious fried chicken, the both of you lay in each other embrace. the two of you weren't all that drunk because of your high alcohol tolerance yet you find yourself struggling to focus on the show.

were you actually drunk or is it because of the way your best friend is holding onto you right now?

you knew it was pretty common for best friends to cuddle but the way his big hand is cradling your waist right now along with his other hand right under your ass, his finger slightly touching it, is making your head spin.

not to mention his growing hard-on that you could literally feel since you were on top of him!

and you didn't know if there was something in the air last night or if tipsy you were just bolder but you decided to slowly grind against him causing him to have a full-on boner.

he on the other hand decided to ignore it and tried to focus on the movie in front of him.

you pouted at this and decided to continue grinding on him, trying to chase your own climax and also attempting to drive him over the edge.

but a firm hand grabbed onto both of your thighs, causing you to stop. " what do you think you're doing, yn? " he asked you, his voice way deeper than usual.

" i think you know what i'm doing. so stop playing dumb and give me what i want. " your voice is adamant, as your hands roam his chest.

he smirked and flipped the two of you, him now on top of you. both of his hands caged you in, making you more turned on than you already were.

" you better not regret saying that. "

" ahn! s-slow down! " you mewled out while gripping his biceps. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your dick twitched. your release finally comes soon after. the milky white substance staining your already cum stained stomach.

" again? we've barely just started, yn. " he chuckled above you. he loved seeing how overstimulated you look right now. he's been dreaming of making you a mess for a long time now.

when you first started grinding into him you didn't expect to get dicked down immediately by your own best friend and after experiencing just how rough he actually is, well, you're not complaining.

just seeing the desperate look on your face is making him go crazy. he's been dreaming about this moment for a long time.

he wondered just how you look like when he's on top of you, making a mess out of you. how do you look when you're overstimulated beyond your limit all because of him. just what type of sounds will pour out of you while he's deep inside of you.

and oh, this exceeds his expectations.

" mmh, yn. you look so pretty right now. " he sighed into your ear, his voice sending shivers up and down his spine. " i'm sure you can handle a few more rounds, yeah? " he gripped your hips again, getting ready to abuse your already puffy hole.

" no! i-i can't cum anymore-! " your whining was cut off by his harsh thrust, your tired voice seeming to be the cause.

you hooked your arms around his neck as a way to support yourself. loud moans escaped from your mouth, this only leading him to go faster. " fuck.. i-im cumming soon yn. "

your hole tightened as you heard his husky voice next to you, the hint of whining in his voice making you shake. " come inside me! p-please! need you in me so bad! "

he grunted out loud, his thrust soon stuttering and slowing down. " yn, fuck. you don't know how long i have been waiting for this.. "

with one last thrust, white soon painted your inside. his warm cum kept flowing more and more into your hole, making your own cum squirt out of your cock.

he immediately devoured you in a kiss, saliva dribbling everywhere. wet squelching sound enveloped the room accompanied by your heavy breathing. the movie that was long forgotten acting as white noise.

he separated himself from you to admire you and the mess he made of you. he smiles as he sees all the bite marks and hickeys littering around your body. the cum seeping out of your hole only made his dick hard again.

" shit.. i don't think i can let you go after this, yn. "

#tyunniez 🕷#tyunniez asks 💌#x male reader #bottom male reader #bttm male reader #male reader #uke male reader #male x male smut #amab reader #is my writing still comprehensible

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paper-mario-wiki · 10 months ago

Note

Who are you?

My name is Scout! I'm an Anthropologist and a trans woman living in Seattle. I like playing Team Fortress 2, and cuddling with my dog, an Australian Shepard named Scarlet. I smoke weed with enough frequency to be considered a "stoner," and I tend to spend a lot of time by myself on the computer learning about things that interest me.

I enjoy collecting things like weird old corporate knick-knacks (viagra shaped wristwatch, t-mobile spatula, camel cigarette emergency flashlight), and vintage jackets. I lived in Japan for 3 years, where I went to school at Doshisha University in Kyoto, but came back to the USA due to isolation during the beginning of the pandemic making my mental health deteriorate rapidly, since it started after only 3 semesters of being there.

I used to be a livestreamer and let's player with a few different channels and podcasts, but a year and a half ago I stopped because I didn't enjoy what being a content creator meant. Today, I'm going to eat fried chicken for breakfast, and later on I'll probably record some Sans and Papyrus voice acting for an animation someone hired me for. I also used to do Undertale voice acting, which is actually how I got my start.

I've also been known as Clown Depot, Smaverage Joe, TheMGMjr, Googoo, and a lot of online handles as the years have gone by. You may have seen me in Real-Time Fandub as Memphis Tennessee, Mr. X the Librarian, Mikeiplier, Storm the Albatross, and Da Devil from Da Bible. You may have also seen some of my viral tumblr posts, like Genghis Kanghis, Music For Unproductive Zoomers, "a chess move called The Frenchman's Cumsock", "never ask a genie for raspberry crowns, because that's a type of wasp", "that's pretty con-fuckin-venient, I'm sorry for doubting you 7-eleven, have a good night", or a few others.

Hope this helps.

#anon #had to bust out the capitalization for this one

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orphicsun · 5 months ago

Text

Blue Collar Abby x Fem! reader HCS

—CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT!—

Blue collar Abby who loves to spoil you. She may not be rich, but best believe she’ll keep her girl happy. She’ll pay for you to get your nails done especially because she says, “my baby looks so gorgeous with a set of pretty nails.”

Blue collar Abby who asked you to move into her apartment so she could come home to you everyday. You have your own job, but you get home way earlier than she does. She works long hours, so getting to see you doing something cute like cooking for her or watching tv on the couch makes her long days worth it.

Blue collar Abby who hates cats. Abby’s more of a dog person, so naturally, when you BEGGED to go to the shelter and pick out a cat, she said no at first. She immediately changed her mind when she saw that cute downcast look on your face and the next day, you had an orange cat running around the house.

Blue collar Abby whose favorite thing is the nights she can spend with you where you just watch cheesy romance movies SWEARS she hates(she cried during Titanic and The Notebook) and eat take-out with you. A box of orange chicken and fried rice and her sweet girlfriend beside her is enough to make her feel like she’s winning in life.

Blue collar Abby who absolutely adores you. She is exhausted at times and spends unfortunately hours away from you, but when she can, she’ll worship you. Not just in sex, either. She loves pulling you onto her lap and admiring that cute flustered face you have. She’ll rub her roughened hands all over your hips and waist, whispering in your ear about how “you’re such a sweet girl.”

Blue collar Abby who does love sex, too though. I see blue collar Abby as not a stone-top but loves to give. A lot. She’ll let you ride her face until you physically can’t anymore, tease your throbbing cunt with a vibrator but never for too long because she just doesn’t know how to deny you. She can’t find it in her to tell you no. She loves using a strap-on on you because she is really fit from her job and feels extremely skilled with it. She’s active too, so her stamina is unmatched. I just imagine her even attempting to let you ride her strap-on and she can’t stay restless for long, so she’ll buck her hips up, eliciting a strangled moan from you.

Blue collar Abby who is mostly a stone-top because sometimes she does need a little attention, too. If she’s had a long day, you’ll catch on to her needs and cheer her up by letting her grind her cunt all over your face. She loves the sight of you on your knees, it’s a rare one but it truly does drive her crazy. Sometimes, she’ll fall asleep after and feel so bad about it, even though she was so exhausted that day. On those occasions, you’ll get some mind-blowing morning sex before she has to leave for work. She’ll always take care of you.

Blue collar Abby who really wants you as her wife. She wants to propose with a ring you’ll love and be able to help you plan the wedding of your dreams. You’re her princess, and all she wants is to make your dreams happen. She’s saving up, half-way there right now. All she wants is a future where she can provide everything for you and spoil you rotten. She daydreams at work about adopting or finding a sperm donor and you being her beautiful wife.

Blue collar Abby who finally reaches her goal, and takes you out to this nice restaurant. You look all pretty and she knows the moment’s perfect. After dinner’s over, she’ll walk you around this botanical garden and when you’re not paying attention, she gets down on one knee and reveals the most beautiful ring you’d ever laid eyes upon. It wasn’t some standard diamond ring, either. It was something that was tailored just to what you loved, the most perfect ring just for you. Of course, you said yes, and all those day dreams about seeing you in a beautiful wedding dress are a reality.

#divider by bloodibambiidoll #abby smut #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby x you #tlou fluff #tlou smut #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #fluff #sapphic smut

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whitecompri · 16 days ago

Note

hei cutie ~ , I'm glad I found your blog, as a fellow Sonic fan, I'm very pleased.

And also as a fan of all the hedgehog characters in Sonic, can I make a request?

Sonic, Shadow, Silver, Scourge x On a picnic date with fem human s/o Who like to use their thighs as a pillow to rest on or rub and stroke their heads while they sleep. S/o sometimes likes to tease them when they are lying on her lap.

Pretty please....

Don't forget to take some rest

Going on a Picnic With your Hedgie

Pairing: Sonic x Reader; Shadow x Reader; Silver x Reader; Scourge x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes

A/N: Thanks for the request! It was a lot of fun thinking up each unique scenario for each hedgehog, but I liked the end result, I hope you like it too!

Sonic

Maybe it should have been a mistake to let him choose the picnic spot, but he asked so sweetly, with such an adorable look on his face, that in the end, you gave in, letting your restless boyfriend decide the location.

In the end, Sonic concluded that it was a great idea to have a picnic at the top of a hill, right in the middle of the strong winds up there. But there was no complaining—you allowed it to happen.

You paused for a moment on your way up the hill, catching your breath. Looking up, you saw the top of the hill; you were almost there, but the path to get to this point had been tough and exhausting. Your eyes narrowed when your peripheral vision caught a blue blur dashing up at full speed. A few seconds later, it raced down the hill again.

Sometimes, it was hard to keep up with his fast-paced rhythm.

Gathering your strength, you composed yourself and resumed walking up the steep terrain, stepping carefully to avoid slipping or getting your foot caught on a rock.

An unnatural gust of wind rushed past you, tossing your hair up. Looking ahead, you spotted a very impatient blue hedgehog.

"Are you going to take much longer? I could have had ten picnics already with how slow you are." He flashed a teasing grin at you.

"I'm going to have to give you some lessons on human limits when we get back home," you said, still out of breath as you climbed another tricky part of the hill.

"Oh, remind me later—I forgot the soda. Be right back!"

Before you could even blink, the sound of him breaking the sound barrier echoed across the hill. You glanced back, seeing nothing but the bluish streak he left behind.

Sighing, you shook your head and refocused on making your way up the rest of the path. After a few more strenuous steps, you finally reached the top of the hill, letting out a satisfied murmur as you reached your destination.

Your eyes immediately landed on the picnic blanket your speedy boyfriend had laid out and the basket of snacks he had prepared.

Once again, that familiar breeze hit your side. Looking to your left, you saw Sonic standing there, holding a bottle of soda.

"So? Do you like the place?" He gave you a warm smile.

"Aside from the fact that I nearly passed out getting up here..." Your eyes scanned the location, taking in how breathtaking the view was from up there. "Yeah, I love it. It's an amazing spot. Thank you, love."

"No problem, babe. Now sit down, let's eat—now that we’ve got the drinks too."

He eagerly walked over to the blanket, sitting at one end. You followed, settling down beside him.

"What did you bring?" Crossing your legs and resting on your arm, you curiously scanned the basket, already guessing what he had packed.

Sonic pulled out some simple white porcelain plates, placing them in the middle of the blanket. Then, buzzing with excitement, he took out a few chili dogs, carefully setting them on the plates. Next, he pulled out a container of fries, placing them in a deeper dish, along with a ketchup bottle beside it. Finally, he brought out a few homemade heart-shaped cookies.

"Did you make these?" Your eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Hm? I wanted to do something nice for my gorgeous girlfriend. I hope you like them... And I swear I didn’t accidentally go overboard with the flour—it was totally intentional." He gave you an amused grin.

"I'm sure they'll be delicious, even with your questionable culinary skills." You nudged his shoulder playfully, making his mischievous smile turn into a small smirk.

"That's because you haven't tried my specialty yet—Gourmet Burnt Instant Noodles." He raised a hand dramatically, as if to glorify his disastrous dish.

"Hmm, sounds divine. How about making it for dinner tonight? I have some leftover food poisoning medicine in the cabinet, so we can enjoy it worry-free."

You both laughed at the playful banter. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against yours, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Let’s eat the chili dogs while they're still warm. I made everything with care for you."

--*--

You chewed on one of the last fries, grabbed another, dipped it in ketchup, and ate it. By now, after a while, the strong wind at the top of the hill had turned into a pleasant breeze, making the whole atmosphere much cozier.

Beside you, Sonic stretched his arms above his head.

"Well, that was a great meal... Now for the best part!"

Without hesitation, he practically threw himself into your lap, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his head, fully enjoying how soft your thighs were.

"Now this is the life," he sighed in pure satisfaction.

"I didn’t know you could actually stay still," you teased, taking a sip of your soda.

"Well, only when it's worth it." He grinned, shifting slightly to get even more comfortable in your lap.

Your hand instinctively reached out, running through his soft, blue fur in slow, soothing motions.

Your fingers drifted toward his fuzzy ears, tracing circles around them. Immediately, you felt his body tense slightly, his fur subtly bristling.

"Careful there, babe, you know that's a weak spot..." He cracked open one eye to glance at you.

"I know, that’s why I’m doing it." Your eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Oh, you’re asking for payback, princess..." He smirked, flashing one of his fangs.

You laughed, deciding to play it safe and return to simply stroking his fur. He let out a soft chuckle, relaxing again and closing his eyes.

However, at that moment, your gaze locked onto something beside you—a stray bird feather lying on the picnic blanket. A mischievous smile crept onto your lips as you set your cup aside and reached for the feather.

Taking a deep breath to suppress your laughter and avoid giving yourself away, you brought the feather close to his nose, gently brushing it against his nostrils.

Sonic’s immediate reaction was to scrunch his nose, twitching it in confusion at the unfamiliar sensation. One of his hands moved from behind his head, lazily rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. At that moment, you pulled the feather away, letting him scratch.

Just as he thought the itch was gone, you brought the feather back, swiping it quickly across his nose.

His nose twitched again, his expression contorting as he turned his head to the side, sneezing lightly before rubbing his nose against his arm. When he settled back down, his eyes snapped open, locking onto the feather in your hand and the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"My girlfriend is feeling extra playful today, huh?" His voice was low and amused. "I hope you’re ready for a counterattack..." His gaze narrowed.

"And what exactly are you going to do?" You challenged, curious to see what he had in mind.

However, your eyes widened in shock when his muzzle brushed against your thigh, and you suddenly felt his fangs graze the soft skin of your leg, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Hey! What are you—" Your gaze shifted to one of indignation as you raised your hands to stop him.

But you weren’t fast enough. A playful chuckle escaped him as he nipped you again.

"I warned you, babe..." He pulled away quickly, dodging your hands as you tried to stop him. "Now it’s my turn..."

Before you could react, he lunged at you, this time playfully nipping at your side over your shirt.

"You little—" You laughed, the sensation both surprising and ticklish as his teeth grazed your body.

"Sonic, I don’t have fur to hide your little bite marks!" One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other supported you from behind, keeping you from falling as he got closer.

"Perfect..." He pinned you down, placing a hand on either side of your body. His face hovered close to yours as he pressed a small kiss to your chin. Then, his muzzle tilted up, and you felt the warmth of his lips on yours, the soft fur brushing against your skin in a mix of tickles and gentle caresses.

Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut, but the kiss was brief. He pulled away, stealing one last peck before gazing at you with an intense, love-struck expression.

"Now, I plan to resume my peaceful nap on your lap, babe. And if my girlfriend tries any more tricks... I’ll retaliate with more than just little bites."

You chuckled softly as he looked at you with hooded eyes, utterly smitten.

"Is that a threat or an offer?"

"It's up to you..." So, he went back to lying peacefully on her lap, closing his eyes and relaxing in that late afternoon.

Shadow

When you asked Shadow where he’d like to have the picnic, at first, he remained silent, lost in thought with his arms crossed, until he finally opened his mouth slightly to respond.

"I know a place..."

And so, now you were walking peacefully through the flower field, your silent boyfriend at your side, attentively accompanying you. He carried the towels and the picnic basket, searching for the best spot to set everything up.

Shadow was always very considerate, never letting you carry heavy things or anything like that. He also never left you behind while walking—he patiently followed your pace, wearing the same grumpy expression as always.

But deep down, he was loving every second of it and would do anything to have more moments like this with you. In a quiet and peaceful place, without worrying about others judging your relationship or interrupting your date.

"This looks good." The black hedgehog stopped in front of a small clearing, a little distance from the thicket you both had walked through. With your help, the cloth was soon spread out on the ground.

Shadow then sat down on the blanket, and you followed, sitting beside him with your legs crossed.

"I brought something for you..." With somewhat hesitant movements, he reached into the basket and pulled out a gray container. As he opened it, the wonderful scent of salmon with cream cheese filled the air, revealing that Shadow had apparently prepared them himself.

"You made these?" You smiled at him.

"Yes..." He looked away for a second. "Rouge said you’d like this recipe."

"I loved it, and I’ll tell you, if you keep cooking like this for me, I’ll end up falling even more in love with you."

Lowering your body, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, making him close his eyes momentarily and let out a quiet hum of approval.

Wanting to reciprocate, he leaned in and brushed his lips against your cheek before pulling back.

"There’s more." He continued unpacking, taking out a jar of coffee beans, a thermos of coffee, and finally, a plate with two mouth-watering pieces of chocolate cake. "I didn’t make this one... but someone insisted on making it for me to bring you."

"Care to tell me who?" You crossed your arms.

"I don’t reveal my sources..."

"I figured. But at least the cake looks good."

Shadow let out a quiet, appreciative hum, placing the plate alongside the other items.

"You can start eating now..." The hedgehog said, sitting with his arms crossed beside you, watching you intently.

"Aren’t you having anything?"

"After you." Shadow replied briefly, keeping his gaze on you.

A small smile formed on your lips as you reached for one of the salmon onigiri, bringing it close to him. Shadow raised a hand in a gesture for you to stop.

"I’ll eat later... Enjoy as much as you want first."

Growing impatient, you leaned closer to him, lowering your body to his level. In a sudden movement, you playfully nibbled his sensitive ear, making him let out a brief, quiet gasp. His ears instinctively twitched back, and his shoulders tensed.

"Why did you do that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I’ll do it again if you don’t take the onigiri."

Shadow stared at you in silence for a few seconds. Then, making a decision, he uncrossed his arms, reached for the onigiri, and took a small bite, closing his eyes as he chewed.

He remained silent while eating, and you just sat there, frozen, admiring how your tough boyfriend now looked like nothing more than an adorable kitten. Every time his jaw moved to chew, his ears made a short, subtle twitch to the sides, making the scene the most precious thing in the world.

"Is there something on my face?" He asked quietly, running a hand over his face, trying to wipe away whatever you were looking at. You just laughed.

"No, Shadow, there's nothing but the adorable face of my boyfriend."

It was noticeable that he froze for a split second at your words, possibly blushing, then, letting out a small "hmph," he went back to eating his onigiri.

He was the cutest thing in the world.

--*--

After eating, you were sitting with your legs stretched out, supporting yourself with one hand while the other held a cup of coffee, enjoying the caffeine after the delicious chocolate cake.

Your gaze was focused on the surrounding flower field, so much so that you didn’t notice the soft rustling of fabric approaching until you felt his fur and soft quills press against your thighs.

Looking down in surprise, you found none other than Shadow. His eyes were closed, arms crossed, and his ear twitched slightly to the side, picking up a nearby sound while he breathed peacefully. He had nestled himself comfortably, using your lap as a pillow, resting his cheek against your thigh.

Unable to resist, your hands began tracing over his black and red quills, feeling how soft and relaxed they were now—a stark contrast to when Shadow was in defensive mode. In fact, running your hands through his quills was now more soothing for you than for him, and you were sure you’d end up falling asleep sitting up if you continued.

Sighing softly, you watched his face. That’s when an idea popped into your head. Turning slightly, you reached for a small white flower, plucking it from the stem and gently placing it between his quills. And suddenly, you had fallen in love with the idea of covering his quills in flowers.

Over time, Shadow began to notice that your touch on his quills was no longer just stroking. Confused, he opened his eyes and turned slightly to glance back at you.

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly.

"Decorating you." You smiled, continuing your work of placing tiny flowers along his quills.

"Hmph." He turned back, closing his eyes and settling in again. "As long as this stays between us..."

"No problem, Rouge will be the first one I tell." You teased.

Immediately, Shadow lifted his head, sitting up again to look at you. In the process, some of the flowers fell off, which you quickly picked up to put back on him later. Shadow sat beside you, facing you directly.

"No one is supposed to know about this..." He took your hand, picking up one of the flowers you held and carefully tucking it into your hair. You felt your face warm slightly.

"Relax, love, this stays just between us..."

Nodding at your words, he once again laid his head on your lap, resting a hand over your knee while pressing his cheek back against your thigh.

Not wasting a second, you lowered your head to him, kissing his forehead and trailing soft kisses along it, feeling his soft fur against your lips. Then, your lips hovered near his ears as you took a deep breath deliberately against them. He tensed immediately, a shiver running down his spine.

"Careful, [Y/N]. Don’t tease me..." He warned without opening his eyes.

Laughing, your lips neared his muzzle.

One of his eyes slowly opened, gazing at you. His hand gently squeezed your leg as a silent warning, but you didn’t stop, continuing to play with your boyfriend.

In a swift motion, catching you off guard, one of his hands flew to the back of your neck, pulling you close, pressing your face against his. Shadow turned his head at the same time, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss before pulling away shortly after.

"I warned you, and I won’t say it again... If you keep this up, I won’t hold back."

Now blushing, you let out a soft laugh before returning to delicately placing flowers in his quills again.

Silver

Since you asked him to choose a place for a picnic, Silver had been extremely excited, thinking about all the possibilities, all the wonderful places where he could enjoy nature with you.

Now, he was walking beside you, delicately holding your hand while carrying the food basket and the blanket with his psychokinesis. Silver smiled a lot and walked confidently through the plain he had chosen. The field was vast, with a pleasant grove in the distance and a mountain nearby. The white hedgehog wanted an open and peaceful place like this—it was perfect for him.

"I think this spot is great for setting up the blanket, don’t you think?" He suddenly stopped, looking around, noticing that the area didn't have tall vegetation, had soft grass, and offered a good view of the surroundings.

"It looks good to me, let’s set everything up then." He let go of your hand, using his powers to place the blanket on the ground. You knelt down, carefully adjusting it, and then he placed the basket at the center of the blanket.

Finally, the two of you sat down side by side, and Silver reached for the basket, pulling things out. He began taking out his tupperware containers.

"I made those berry pancakes you like. I hope they’re still warm." He placed the container on the ground and opened it. The sweet and appetizing scent of pancakes filled your senses, making your mouth water.

"They smell amazing. I love the way you make them." Silver chuckled.

"I'm happy that you already like them before even tasting them. I also made this." He pulled out a small plate with some pastries.

"You made scones?! I’ve always wanted to try them!" Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the treat being placed on the blanket.

"Yeah, I know, that’s why I looked up a recipe online and made them. I heard you mention them that time." He reached out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You’re such a thoughtful boyfriend..." You leaned in slightly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, making him blush lightly.

"Anything for you, my love." He smiled softly, taking out the last item from the basket—a bottle of iced tea he had also prepared. "Well, what are you waiting for? Feel free to enjoy everything!"

Silver said excitedly, picking up one of the scones and bringing it to your mouth. You were surprised by the gesture but opened your mouth, letting him feed you.

"Hmm, this is really good. You have a special talent for making sweets, Silver." He scratched the back of his neck at your compliment.

"It's nothing much, I just put a lot of love into what I make." He took your hand in his, gently stroking it with his thumb.

"Well, let’s not waste these delicious treats, right?" You reached for another of the pastries.

--*--

After eating, the two of you were sitting side by side, enjoying the peach iced tea he had made. He took the last sip from his cup, then looked at you attentively, noticing you were sitting cross-legged.

"Hey, [Y/N], do you mind if I lay on your lap?" He looked at you hopefully.

"Of course, love, you don’t even have to ask." You adjusted your position, making space for him to lie down, supporting yourself with one hand on the ground.

Carefully, he rested his head on your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling against you. Instinctively, your hand began to trace his quills gently, feeling how soft they were at the moment.

"Your hand is so warm..." he murmured sleepily, his breathing becoming slower as he drifted off under your gentle touch.

Your boyfriend was adorable like this, lying on your lap, hugging you, unconsciously hiding his face against your stomach as he breathed peacefully. However, you couldn't resist teasing him a little.

Your finger traced soft circles on his forehead, then moved to stroke the fur on his muzzle. Leaning forward slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, making him stir a little, though he kept his eyes closed. A small smirk formed on your lips.

"Silver... you’re drooling..." you whispered to him.

Immediately, as if he had been electrocuted, he sat up with wide eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"W-WHAT?! I wasn’t drooling! I—" He paused when he saw your teasing smile, raising an eyebrow.

"It was just a joke..." Laughing, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick kiss.

"You’re so mean, you know that...?" His expression softened, and a sly smile began to appear on his face.

He started to lean closer, his half-lidded eyes locked onto yours. His hands gently rested on your waist at first but soon became firmer. He playfully nibbled at your chin before trailing his lips up to meet yours, murmuring softly.

"I could make you apologize for scaring me right here..." His hands caressed your waist, one of them sliding to your back, pulling you closer to his smaller frame.

Nipping at your lower lip, he pulled away, his face now completely flushed beneath his fur. Clearing his throat, he said,

"I’m going back to napping... don’t scare me again..." He left the warning in the air before settling back onto your lap. His hand brushed against your thigh, feeling the softness of your skin against his fur.

Letting out a small sigh, he wrapped his arms around your waist once again, curling up on your lap and drifting off to sleep with his face buried in your stomach.

Scourge

When you told him to find a nice spot for a picnic, a wide smirk appeared on his face as he thought about the various places he could take you for a pleasant afternoon.

In truth, you were a little afraid of the location he might choose—who knows if it would be somewhere bizarre or outright forbidden, knowing Scourge’s personality.

However, to your surprise, your boyfriend picked a suitable and cozy spot for the picnic.

The green hedgehog stopped in front of a flowing river, looking around and analyzing the shade of the tree with a critical gaze to see if it was truly comfortable.

After huffing in satisfaction, he turned to you. "This spot’s perfect, babe. Let’s set up the picnic here."

He crouched down, grabbing the blanket and spreading it out in the tree’s cool shade before taking the basket and sitting at one corner of the white cloth. You followed suit, settling beside him.

Almost instinctively, his hand reached for your waist, pulling you closer to his smaller frame. Scourge lifted his sunglasses to look at you fully.

"You’re a princess every damn day, but today, ya look like a queen." He flashed a smirk, his eyes admiring you.

You chuckled.

“What are you hoping to gain from this?”

"A kiss?" He grinned, showing his sharp teeth.

“You could’ve just asked directly.”

Chuckling softly, you leaned to the side, pressing your lips against his, feeling the ticklish sensation of his muzzle’s fur against your skin. He tightened his grip on your waist slightly but quickly broke the kiss.

"Look what I brought for ya, babe." he said, reaching into the basket and pulling out some containers with the snacks he had prepared.

First, he pulled out two cans of energy drinks, setting one near you. Then, he took out a container with a few slices of pizza.

“Is this what’s left of last night’s pizza?” You raised an eyebrow.

"I call it makin' the most of every bite. I don’t wanna waste it. Besides, day-old pizza’s the best kinda pizza." He grinned, reaching for the last item.

Pulling out a large bag of nachos, he placed it beside him. Lastly, he grabbed a sealed container filled with dip.

"Babe, I was thinkin’ ‘bout what would be cool, an’ I found a guacamole recipe. I’m not big on this cookin’ stuff, but it didn’t take much effort. It'll go great with the nachos."

“Well, I’m glad you at least put in the effort, love.” You smiled at his subtle gesture of love.

"All for ya, babe."

He let go of your waist, opening the nacho bag and the guacamole container before dipping a chip into the sauce and taking a bite.

“So, do you like what you made?” You grabbed a nacho as well, dipping it into the guacamole.

"It actually tastes better than I expected." He chuckled, picking up his energy drink and opening it. "Hope ya like it, princess."

--*--

After finishing the nachos and guacamole, Scourge stretched his arms, letting out a yawn.

"Babe, I feel like takin' a nap."

He turned to you, lowering himself and resting his head against your crossed legs. He nuzzled his muzzle against your thigh, pressing a small kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he lay back, placing his arms behind his head, enjoying the serenity and the soothing sound of the river beside you.

"Ya love when I lay on your lap, don’tcha?" He teased with a smug expression.

“I don’t mind it at all.”

Your hand started tracing his quills, feeling each one under your fingers—surprisingly soft, probably because he was relaxed and with someone he trusted.

"If ya keep runnin' your fingers through my quills like that… I’m either gonna fall asleep…" He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower and husky. "Or do somethin’ crazy…" A wide grin spread across his face.

You just huffed playfully, letting him tease you all he wanted.

Then, a mischievous idea popped into your head. Innocently, you continued running your fingers through his quills, but one hand silently moved away, creeping toward his nose. Before he could notice, your fingers pinched his nostrils shut, cutting off his airflow.

Scourge’s eyes immediately snapped open, and he shot up, gasping for air. He turned to you, his expression first shocked before shifting into something more mischievous. He grabbed your wrist.

"Ya seriously got the guts to mess with me while I’m relaxed, babe?"

He leaned in dangerously close. You swallowed hard, anticipation building over his next move.

“W-wait—!”

You barely had time to finish your sentence before you felt your back hit the blanket, his weight pressing down against you.

"You’re such a naughty girl…"

He captured your lips once, then twice, his hands pressing against your ribs while his knees pinned you down, one on each side of your waist, preventing any chance of escape.

"Blockin’ my air like that…"

He kissed you again, then trailed open-mouthed kisses down your throat, purposely grazing his teeth against your sensitive skin, asserting dominance.

“Scourge…” You managed to whisper softly.

"Babe… Be careful with these lil’ provocations…" He chuckled, pulling away and grabbing your hands, helping you sit back up.

"Let’s enjoy the place for now…"

He kissed the back of your hand before once again lying back down on your lap, his quills brushing against your skin as he got comfortable.

"Don’t tease me again, or I swear I won’t hold back." He smirked before closing his eyes, drifting off to sleep again—leaving you completely flustered as you watched his relaxed features while he slept.

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader #silver x reader #silver the hedgehog x reader #scourge x reader #scourge the hedgehog x reader

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p0orbaby · 7 months ago

Text

Forty Winks Would Be Just Priceless

summary: your kid only sleeps when being driven, the diva that she is

warnings: none !

a/n: if someone could drive me around to get to sleep that would be great

word count: 1.7k

It’s 2:47 a.m., and you’re sitting in the passenger seat of a car that you didn’t even know Leah could operate at this level of exhaustion. You’re wondering if she’s siphoning energy directly from the Devil, because that’s the only explanation. The car smells like a combination of McDonald’s fries, stale coffee, and something unidentifiable that you’re hoping isn’t some sort of roadkill under the bonnet. Your wife is behind the wheel, white-knuckling it like she’s doing 90 on the M25. In reality, she’s going 15 miles per hour around your parish.

Again.

“Is this the fifth lap or the sixth?” you ask. You’ve lost count. Somewhere around lap three, you started dissociating. The glow of the streetlights is the only indication you’re still on Earth.

“Does it matter?” Leah responds, glancing over at you with an arched eyebrow that you recognise as the look she gives opponents who try to muscle her off the ball. Leah has three moods: sweet, commanding, and “I could end you without lifting a finger.” You’re currently dealing with the third. The funny part is, she’s only this intimidating when she’s wearing a hoodie over her messy hair, dark circles framing her bloodshot eyes, which she insists is the result of “just a little” caffeine.

You eye her warily. “Maybe not,” you admit, slumping lower into the seat. You glance over your shoulder into the backseat, where Eden, your two-year-old sleep terrorist, has finally succumbed to the soothing vibrations of the Mercedes. Eden’s head is lolling to one side, mouth slightly open, and you’re just about convinced she’s auditioning to be the next exorcism case.

Leah’s been driving for about an hour now. You’re on your third consecutive night of the same routine: dinnertime is war, bath time is a ceasefire, and bedtime is a full-blown, special-ops mission with all the difficulty of invading a heavily guarded country. Eden has the upper hand. Eden is always ten steps ahead. And the only way to win is to retreat—to the car.

“I feel like we should get a second car,” you suggest, half-serious. “One specifically for these midnight missions. Maybe something with better fuel efficiency”

Leah gives you a side-eye that says, “You’re joking, right?” But you can tell she’s considering it. “Or we could teach her to fall asleep like a normal child. In her bed. At bedtime”

You snort. “Teach her? Are we raising a human or a feral cat?”

Leah doesn’t even have to respond to that. Eden is a force of nature. You’re just two unfortunate souls caught in her tiny hurricane.

“And what do we do when she grows out of this?” Leah asks, but it’s more like she’s thinking out loud. “Do we drive her to school every day just to get her to wake up?”

“Let’s just worry about surviving the next hour,” you say, looking at the clock. You remember reading somewhere that car exhaust fumes can lull a person to sleep. You briefly wonder if that’s what’s happening to you right now.

Leah clicks her tongue in thought, turning onto the next street, where a dog that clearly suffers from some kind of psychological trauma is barking at nothing. “When I was little,” she begins, “my mum would drive me around to get me to sleep, but we lived in the countryside. There were no barking dogs, just the occasional sheep”

“Well, that’s why you turned out so well-adjusted,” you remark dryly. “If Eden grows up thinking the only way to fall asleep is to go for a drive, she’s going to need therapy. Which we can’t afford, by the way, because we’ll be spending all our money on petrol”

Leah chuckles, but it’s the kind of laugh that’s a little too high-pitched to be real. “We’ll add it to the list of things she’ll blame us for when she’s older. Right next to ‘Mum used to make me eat vegetables’ and ‘Mama never let me play with knives’”

Eden lets out a little snore, and you both freeze, staring at the rearview mirror. Leah’s foot hovers over the brake pedal as if any sudden movement might wake the tiny monster in the back. You can practically hear both of you holding your breath, waiting for the inevitable cry of protest that’s sure to come the second the car stops moving.

But it doesn’t come. Instead, Eden’s snore deepens, becoming the kind of sleep sounds that suggest she’s off in dreamland, probably riding unicorns or setting fire to imaginary villages.

You relax a fraction, and so does Leah, though she’s still gripping the wheel like it’s her last lifeline. You wonder if she’s ever used this level of concentration on the pitch. You’ve never seen her miss a tackle, but this is an entirely different ball game.

“So, when do we stop?” Leah whispers. You can hear the exhaustion in her voice now, thick and sludgy like she’s been awake for a week.

You consider this. “We could keep driving until sunrise. Then she’ll wake up with the sun and think it’s a new day. Maybe it’ll reset her sleep schedule”

“Or we’ll just be perpetually exhausted and still sleep-deprived, except now we’ve got morning traffic to deal with,” Leah counters. “You know, if we were living in a different era, this could be considered some form of witchcraft. Driving around in circles at night to get a child to sleep. Someone would’ve burned us at the stake by now”

“Wouldn’t that be a relief,” you mutter, then immediately regret it, because even though you’re joking, you’re too tired to be sure.

Leah sighs. “I love her. I really do. But sometimes I wonder if we’re the ones being trained here”

“There’s no wonder about it,” you reply, deadpan. “We’re definitely the ones being trained. She’s got us figured out. We’re puppets. Eden pulls the strings, and we drive”

Leah smiles at that, though it’s more of a grimace of acknowledgment. “You know, when I said I’d do anything for her, I didn’t realise it included nighttime rally racing in a residential neighborhood”

“Should’ve read the fine print,” you say, then yawn so hard it hurts. “But hey, at least we’re doing this together, right? Quality time”

Leah glances over at you, and this time, her smile is real. It’s small, but it’s there, and it makes you feel a little less like a zombie. “Yeah,” she agrees softly. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else”

You reach over and squeeze her hand, and for a moment, there’s peace. Not the kind of peace you’ll ever find in a parenting book or one of those sanctimonious mommy blogs, but the kind that exists in the trenches, where you and Leah are currently wading through knee-deep toddler warfare.

As you turn onto yet another street that looks identical to the last, you finally admit defeat. “Let’s call it,” you say. “She’s out. If we keep going, we’re going to end up in Scotland”

“Good idea,” Leah says, already beginning the slow process of easing off the gas and pulling into your driveway. She parks with the kind of precision that makes you think she missed her calling as a getaway driver.

You both sit there for a minute, basking in the silence that only comes when your child is finally, blessedly asleep. You’re in no rush to move, because you know the second you do, Eden will sense it and all this work will be undone in a matter of seconds.

But Leah is braver than you. She quietly turns off the engine, unbuckles her seatbelt, and with the precision of a bomb squad technician, she turns to the backseat. You watch as she gingerly unbuckles Eden, cradling her like she’s made of porcelain.

And somehow, miraculously, Eden stays asleep. Leah manages to get out of the car, Eden still snoozing in her arms, and you’re right behind her, ready to perform the hand-off should things go south.

The two of you tiptoe through the house like burglars, careful to avoid every creaky floorboard. You’re halfway to Eden’s room when she stirs, and you both freeze in place like deer caught in headlights. But then she just shifts in Leah’s arms, sighs deeply, and snuggles closer into her mother’s shoulder.

You finally reach the cot, and Leah lowers her in with the gentleness of a saint. The transfer is seamless. Eden doesn’t even flinch.

The second the cot rail is up, you and Leah back out of the room like you’ve just completed a high-stakes mission, which you basically have. The door closes with a soft click, and you both stand there, wide-eyed, disbelieving.

“She’s asleep,” Leah whispers, like she doesn’t dare believe it.

“She’s asleep,” you echo, equally stunned.

And then, without warning, Leah lets out a sound that you can only describe as a half-crazed giggle. It’s infectious, and you start laughing too, because it’s either that or you’re going to cry, and honestly, you’ve done enough of that in the last few days.

“We did it,” you say between breaths, leaning against the wall for support. “We actually did it”

Leah pulls you into a hug, and it’s warm and comforting, and it feels like a reward for all the hell you’ve been through tonight. “We make a good team,” she murmurs into your hair.

“The best,” you agree, letting yourself relax into her embrace.

But as you’re standing there, holding each other in the hallway like the survivours you are, you both hear it: the unmistakable sound of Eden stirring, a tiny whimper that promises to turn into a full-blown cry in about three seconds.

You look at each other in horror, and without a word, Leah grabs the car keys.

“You can drive,” she says, already heading back towards the front door.

You don’t even argue. Instead, you grab your the keys from her, knowing full well that this battle isn’t over yet.

And as you both head back to the car for yet another sleepless night, you can’t help but think that one day, years from now, you’ll look back on these nights with some kind of twisted fondness.

But for now, all you can do is keep driving.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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