#yeah it was stressful but it at least PAID
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Terms of Endearment
Chapter 7: Just a Little Bit of Your Heart
A/N: Please forgive any errors! Lmk what you wanna see next, and I'll try to make it happen :) As always, I hope you love it! xx Elle
Warnings: Using religion to shame, homophobia, manipulation
Word Count: 3.5k
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Paige was intentional when she every choice she made that night. She chose anything that might show she could be soft, safe, and secure. From what Ice had told her about Azzi’s ex, she figured comfort and trust were the most important things she could offer.
The white set she wore was one of the most comfortable outfits she owned. She was planning on driving her Maserati, but that car is loud and flashy – nowhere near the right tone. Instead, she changed to her Land Rover Autobiography. It was same car she used when she was driving with Soleil in the car. Familiar. Warm. Safe.
The Capital Grille was a nice restaurant, one that afforded guests with privacy. She hoped that Azzi would be able to relax without so many eyes on them.
The ride was quiet, comfortable though. Azzi looked out the window, eyes tracking skyscrapers shining against the night sky.
Say something. She’s not going to fall for you if you don’t speak.
Azzi smelled like something sweet, almost like a vanilla cupcake. The scent filled the car, not overpowering, but enough to notice if you paid attention.
“You look really nice.” Azzi’s brown eyes meet blue. “Orange looks good on you.” Paige offered, fighting the urge to cringe as she felt her face heat.
Azzi glanced down at her dress, courtesy of Paige. Her fingers fiddle with the hem nervously. “Thank you. I like your outfit too. It looks really comfortable.” Soft smile.
She wanted to figure out how to make Azzi look that way all the time.
“Do you want a set?” Paige asked.
Azzi’s eyes flashed quickly. “No, thank you.” She turned back to the window.
So, don’t offer to buy her things? That makes her comfortable. Might need to backtrack on furnishing the apartment.
The silence was stiff after that, and Paige had never been so happy to see a valet up ahead.
Paige placed her hand on Azzi’s lower back, guiding her into the restaurant. They were led to the private room quickly.
Paige had been stressing about how to talk to Azzi about her job. As soon as they were alone, she opened her mouth.
“KK told me what happened with your boss.” She wanted to drop her head to the table.
Azzi tensed, “Um, yeah. I’m trying to figure out what to do.”
“I’m so sorry, Azzi.” Paige started; composure regained. She covered Azzi’s hand with her own. “I didn’t mean for this to cost you your job.”
She shook her head, “I mean, I should have thought about it. After seeing how they reacted to you, I’m not surprised.” She took a sip of water. “I should be fine though. There’s a national teacher shortage.”
“I could get your job back, if that’s what you want. If they don’t at least apologize to you, I’m pulling Soleil out. You could be her private tutor. Or you could not work at all; something tells me you don’t get nearly enough rest.”
Azzi studied her skeptically. “I – I’ll think about it and let you know what I decide tomorrow morning. It’ll be early though; they want me out by 7.”
Paige clenched her jaw, “I’ll have Morgan be ready to drive you then.”
The waiter came in with the appetizers, and Azzi was ecstatic at the chance to change the subject.
“So has Soleil always been like that?” She smiled softly. “Bright. Happy. Literal sunshine.”
The brightness of Paige’s smile matched her daughter’s name. “Yeah. I didn’t name her that in hopes that she’d be unnaturally cheerful or anything. She was sunshine. My Sunshine. After everything, she represented goodness, strength, a new beginning.”
As composed as she was, Paige was secretly giddy. This would give her the perfect opportunity to help Azzi be more comfortable with her.
“I guess it’s time for you to hear the story. Everyone else in the family already knows. And I want you to, too.”
Paige paused, gathering her thoughts.
“I started Kairos with one of my professors during undergrad. It’s a private equity firm – we buy companies, streamline their operations, and decide if we want to sell. I built a formula my junior year that basically changed everything for us. My mentor, Dr. Martinez was the best. He was the only person who really believed in me.”
She exhaled slowly. “He died in a car accident seven years ago. He left his share of the company to his kid, Emmanuel. Manny. He said he’d sell me his shares if I married him.”
She caught Azzi’s eye. She looked shocked. Azzi figured it was because everyone knew Paige Bueckers is a lesbian.
I think he wanted to control me or maybe humble me. He knew who I was from basketball and saw me as arrogant. I don’t know. It was a bad marriage. He hit me. Hurt me in ways I won’t get into. I didn’t think I had another option, so I stayed.”
Paige looked at a small wrinkle and swallowed to keep her voice steady. “When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I had to get out. I called Nika for the first time in years, and she helped me make a plan. Then, I found out I was having a girl – I knew I didn’t want her growing up thinking she had to change who she was or disappear to get away from someone hurting her.”
Her hand tightened around the champagne flute. “Manny died in a car accident, and I was free. And four months later, I had Soleil. That whole situation was so awful, but she was so good, so perfect. She was light in my life. She gave me strength and a purpose I didn’t know I could have. Manny didn’t have a will when he died, so everything went to me.”
She shrugged. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt my family like Manny did, so I threw myself into work and being a good mom.”
The room was quiet. Paige looked up from the wrinkle in the tablecloth she’d been fixated on. She had no idea how Azzi would react.
“I’m so sorry you went through that, Paige. You’re so strong.” Azzi’s eyes shone with tears. “You’re a great mom, one of the best I’ve ever seen. You’ve been fighting for Soleil since you found out she existed.
Paige swallowed hard. “Thank you, Azzi. I just want you to know the truth. The walls, the façade, it’s to keep the girls, to keep Soleil, safe. It’s hard for me to let them down, but I am trying.”
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Azzi’s heart ached. She never would’ve guessed all the things Paige had to do to survive. She couldn’t imagine dealing with someone like that while being pregnant.
Paige seemed like she was bracing for impact and judgement.
“I know I haven’t lived what you did, but I–” She started, getting flustered. “My ex was a little like yours. I still hear his voice sometimes. So if you wanna talk, or vent, or anything, I’m just a few floors down.”
She could see the tension melt from Paige’s shoulders, and she felt her own doing the same.
“So, Ice showed me the choices for your place You’re going to live in a sunrise.” She smirked.
Azzi’s lips turned down in a small pout, “I think pink, orange, and yellow look perfect together…and I love sunrises!”
Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter came back in, listing the five options the women had for their entrée.
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Paige remembered what Ice and KK told her about Azzi’s deep-rooted aversion to making choices because of her fuck ass ex.
“We’ll take all five, thank you.” Paige said, leaving no room for rebuttal.
Big brown eyes stared at her in surprise. “You just ordered five entrées.”
“You looked like you were having an existential crisis trying to decide.” Paige said, sinking into the velvet chair. “I don’t think you should have to pick if you don’t want to. Try them all and take the leftover for lunch.” She smirked into her water glass.
“So is this a thing with you?” Azzi squinted. “Going overboard?”
Paige gasped dramatically; a mannerism Soleil had inherited. “Overboard? I’ll have you know this is what caring about people looks like.”
Head tilted to the side, and cheeks pink, “Why did you offer to do this? Why do you care?”
“Most people don’t care. They don’t care about children, or even see them as people, but you do. You made sure Soleil was treated equally, and she loves you. I don’t think you will ever understand how much she loves you, Azzi. You became family the moment you fought for her when I couldn’t.”
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The rest of the evening flowed smoothly. Conversation was easy and the vibes were surprisingly warm. Paige was playful and sharp in a way Azzi never would have assumed. And she was so kind the entire night. She held doors open, guided Azzi with a hand on her back, and even buckled her seatbelt for her.
Azzi didn’t know if it was the champagne or the company, but her shoulders felt much less tense than normal. As she briefly gazed at Paige on the way home, she was appreciative of the quiet. Of the way Paige hadn’t demanded anything of her.
She could feel her thick, tall walls shaking with the kindness and lack of expectations Paige had shown her. She opened every door, pulled out every seat, and even buckled Azzi’s seatbelt for her, like it was a normal thing to do.
You can’t trust her just because she’s pretty, rich, and nice. People can change in a split second.
When they arrived at the Aurelia, Paige rode to the 59th floor with Azzi, walking her to her door.
“I’ll be taking you to the school tomorrow instead of Morgan. I’ve convened a meeting with the board of St. Paul’s.”
Azzi wanted to tell Paige she didn’t need to before she realized Paige was still trying to take care of her.
And then—impulsively, gently—she leaned in and kissed Paige on the cheek.
The blush that bloomed across Paige’s face was worth every inch of vulnerability.
That was definitely a date.
She closed the door, resting her head on the cool oak. She was blushing. Just like the girl she’d just kissed. What the fuck was that. Ohmygosh. She ignored the butterflies in her stomach as she rationalized with herself; she was just saying thank you.
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Azzi looked around her classroom, smiling. She knew Paige would be coming to help pack up her class, but Ice, Jana, and KK joined as well. It was a small gesture, but one that warmed Azzi up inside.
“Azzi, can I take this book home?” Soleil held up Love You by Heart, the book that got everything started.
Azzi smiled, hearing the question for the seventeenth time. “Of course, Soleil.”
“You’re not gonna have any books left if you can’t tell her no, Ms. Fudd.” Paige threw a playful smirk her way.
Azzi shrugged, “That’s fine. With my new part time job, I’ll be able to afford to buy new books.”
Before Paige could come up with a sarcastic reply, Jana spoke. “Pause. Why are we packing up your classroom if Paige is gonna bitch them out until they give you your job back?”
Heat rushed to Azzi’s face. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to work at St. Paul’s after seeing how they treated people with different views than them.
“Thanks for the reminder, J. Come of Az. It’s time to head to the conference room. Ice, please don’t let Soleil trick you into letting her paint.”
Azzi didn’t hear anything after Paige called her Az. She had a nickname. To Azzi, nicknames were a way to show love and affection. While Az wasn’t super personal, she felt a little brighter knowing someone cared enough to give her a nickname again.
“Azzi.” The blonde’s voice interrupted her stream of consciousness. She stood up sharply, following Paige into the hallway. Her hands fiddled with the hem of her old UCLA sweatshirt. A warm hand covered hers. “Relax, Azzi. No matter what happens, you’ll be good. I promise.”
“Thanks, I’m just nervous,” She muttered, looking at her shoes. “I just – I’ve never really been in trouble like this before, and it’s not even over something I can control.”
As someone who had attended private school, Azzi was intimately familiar with hiding her sexuality to avoid conflict. It never made sense to her; hating someone because of who they love. It’s not like they could control it.
“Fuck em. They think you’re weak, but you’re not.” Paige’s voice dropped. “You’ve survived worse, and you got us now.”
Brows furrowed, Azzi gave a small nod, held herself higher, and opened the door.
The long conference room table had ten people around it, Mr. Smith and the nine board members. There was a chair opened at the end of the table, with one seat available next to it.
Azzi felt inferior in her leggings and tennis shoes, while all the board members wore suits. She glanced at Paige. She looked perfectly composed, despite being in a gray Nike tech fit.
“Ms. Fudd, Ms. Bueckers, thank you for coming this morning.” Mr. Smith said, standing. “Let’s get started, since it’s a holiday and all.”
Each board member introduced themselves, and if it was a different scenario, Azzi would have laughed at all of them being named after a saint.
When the last member, John Paul James (three saint names), introduced himself, he added something to the end. “I was assuming this meeting would be with you, Ms. Bueckers. You said something about donations?”
“She’s here for me,” Azzi replied before Paige could speak. Despite her nerves, her voice came out even. “We are here to discuss my termination.”
Peter Kingsley rolled his eyes subtly. “Ms. Fudd, you’ve been a valued and effective teacher at St. Paul’s, but we cannot retain a teacher who lives in direct opposition of what the Bible teaches.”
Azzi inhaled sharply. “Excuse me? I –”
“For this reason God gave them up to dishonorable passions. For their women exchanged natural relations for those that are contrary to nature; and the men likewise gave up natural relations with women and were consumed with passion for one another, men committing shameless acts with men and receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error. Romans 1:26-27.” Another member says.
“1 Corinthians 6:9-10. Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.” A deeper voice calls out.
“You are a teacher, Ms. Fudd. You are supposed to be a moral example for your students. We don’t want you do lead those children astray.” A woman spoke sternly.
Azzi inhaled sharply. “I’ve always shown them to live a life of love. I have never taught them anything that goes against–”
“You are trying to cause these children spiritual harm, and we will not stand for it.” Mr. Kingsley sneered. “Matthew 18:6 says but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great mill–”
“I would never do that, I love my k –” Azzi’s voice wavers, eyes shiny with tears.
“You are leading them to hell–”
“Enough.” Paige’s rings out sternly. The tone is so intense that no one dares to speak.
She rises slowly, face controlled, shoulders tense. She stands tall behind Azzi’s chair, placing a gentle hand on the back of her neck. The panic that has Azzi’s body wound up melts a little. She quietly wipes the tears from her face.
“I’ve been biting my tongue out of respect for Azzi. Trying to let her handle it, but you won’t even listen to her. And I won’t sit here and listen to you berate my girlfriend for something she can’t control.”
Her hand leave Azzi has she stalks around the table. “I chose this school because of her.” She pointed. “I looked up reviews of every preschool teacher in the city, and she outshined the rest by miles. Soleil is a shy child, and I needed a teacher who would look at the whole child. Someone who would make every kid feel loved and special, and that’s what Azzi Fudd does.”
The classroom’s temperature has dropped ten degrees as Paige paused. “And you want to fire her? I would love to see you try. Let’s talk about the ramifications of firing Ms. Fudd.”
A smirk works its way onto her perfect, pale face. “I’m St. Paul’s largest donor. I have already donated triple the amount than next highest donor. I am covering the tuitions of fifty students, one of whom bullied my child because I’m gay. I have donated the money for that new state of the art library and have had documents drawn up for a science lab. You fire her, you lose the best teacher, you lose my daughter, you lose me, and every penny I bring in for this school.”
All of the board members tense at her threat.
“This is supposed to be a Christian institution. You like throwing scripture at people, huh? John 8:7. Let you without sin cast the first stone. Galatians 5:22. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I want you to look me in my eye and tell me which attribute Azzi is lacking in.”
She bends down, getting eye level with Mr. Kingsley. “You preach about shepherding children, and she does it. She does it well. Why do you think all her families love her so much?” Blue eyes throwing an icy glare at the man. “What you’re doing isn’t righteous, it’s pharisaical.”
Paige walks back to Azzi. “We’re leaving.”
Azzi rises on shaky legs. She’s never had someone stand up for her like that.
“Ms. Fudd,” Mr. Smith grits out. “Perhaps we’ve been a bit hasty with our judgement. You are more than welcome to stay at St. Paul’s, with a few guardrails of course.”
“No thank you,” Azzi smiles softly. “Jesus said they will know we are Christians by the love we have for one another. I want you to think if you have shown me the love and grace that you should have, and I hope you won’t make this mistake again.”
She walks out. She doesn’t look back, walking proudly until they got back to her classroom She made a beeline to the restroom, and finally let herself cry.
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Paige was feeling…a lot of feelings. She was proud of the way Azzi stood up for herself. She saddened knowing the damage this would do to the woman. She was furious at the close-minded attitude and greedy nature of the board members. But she was enraged hearing Azzi’s sobs.
They didn’t deserve her sorrow. They didn’t deserve her tears. Paige paced in front of the classroom, trying to burn off some of her fury.
“Aye, you good, P?” KK questioned cautiously.
Paige’s head snapped up, remembering where she was, and who was present. The classroom was bare, everything in boxes except for a few pieces of paper and a box of markers for Soleil.
Her daughter’s big blue eyes met hers sadly. “Mommy, why is Azzi cwying?”
She took a deep breath, kneeling to her daughter’s level. “Some people here said some mean things to her, so she’s upset.”
Soleil’s dark brows furrowed. “We should make hew feel bettew.” Lips turned down in a frown. “We go get ice cweam!” She exclaimed.
Paige smiled at Soleil’s zeal. “That sounds like a good idea, Sunshine.” She turned to her friends. “Let’s get these boxes in the car so we can go before I lose it.”
Jana, Ice, KK, and Paige loaded up the two SUVs and sat in the classroom, joking around, and waiting for Azzi to come out.
No one noticed what Soleil was doing until it was too late. “Come on Azzi! Time fow ice cweam!”
“Lei! We’re just gonna wait til she’s ready.” Paige rushed to scoop her up.
The door cracked a little, “No, it’s okay. I’m ready.” Azzi said, softly.
Soleil wiggled until her mom put her down. She threw herself at her teachers. “I’m sowwy they was saying mean things to you.”
Azzi hoisted her up, Lei’s little legs wrapping around her waist. “Thank you, Soleil.” She turned to the adults. “So, I heard we’re getting ice cream?”
Paige watched a smile stretch over Azzi’s face, a matching one lighting up Soleil’s face. And for a second, Paige let herself want a future that looked just like this.
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I miss my night shifts, Tails...... I miss them a lot.....
#i used to work the closing shift at the local 99 cents store before the company went under#got me out of the house for five hours and by the time i got back everyone had gone to bed and everything was quiet#this house is UNBEARABLE in the evenings i miss having that escape#yeah it was stressful but it at least PAID#blergh. stupid housing crisis.
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once again the muppet is causing me Medical Anxiety! just had to drop over $300 on an emergency vet visit because of worrisome poops, and I'd like to take her in to her regular vet for some proper bloodwork/urinalysis, since i couldn't afford to do those at the emergency vet 🙃
so, if anybody has a bit of cash to spare so we can get her seen ASAP, that'd be rad! 😩
Ko-Fi | Cashapp | Venmo
#pidge pets#boost#feel like it goes without saying but this little gal is my whole world#and i have been stressing myself sick trying to make sure she's okay#im a lil bit worried its an issue with her kidneys and id like to know as soon as possible#i get paid friday but ive got bills ans shit and i very much live paycheck to paycheck so o|-< yeah#so uuuh boost if you cant donate bc i get it we are all broke around here#she's okay for now and she's at least got her appetite back#but she's old and so small im worried it could go bad fast if i dont figure out what the deal is
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Hello! Just an update to let everyone know that I haven't expired just yet~ Things are still a little rough IRL but better than earlier this year! I'm getting back into drawing and looking for that new spark of inspiration. I hope everyone else is still surviving as well 💜
#my post#quick update#I'm kinda in limbo in my professional career#and seeking new opportunities and or a career change#and its stressful because there is so much I want to do#but so little time to do it all TvT#I kinda want to make comic books and sell them#but also I need a higher paid gig ASAP#cries in responsible adult#anyway yeah not dead yet#on the outside at least
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I'm. nearly finished the cosmetic contest video. after...almost 13 hours of non-stop editing...

there is not even any respite from this madness in my immediate future...as corydalis' birthday is technically next week OTL
#dbd#thoughts about media#do I still have to work today? yes.#am I getting paid enough to suffer more after not sleeping? no.#but this god-damned dental surgery isn't going to pay for itself OTLLLL#anyway. I just have to do a few minor things and the video is finished. it's like. 6:30 am tho. and I need at least a LITTLE sleep.#I really hope people will dig the skin. I cannot stress enough that days upon days of work went into it.#It's still not the most insane thing I've drawn of hux. no- that I still haven't posted either.#but it's probably second place honestly.#as for corydalis. whew yeah. the 22nd will be one year since I first played bg3.#it's funny because he means so fucking much to me yet I haven't really shared art of him at all.#I have art of him made. but he's getting something special for his birthday.#a solo piece. I mean. like hux and donnie have gotten in the past.#he deserves it for reviving my enjoyment of making OCs.#and-- of course-- for being faerun's coolest And hottest dad.
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Ah summaries... the bane of every writer's existence.
#at least I'm getting paid to write these?#oh yeah#your girl got a paid writing gig#and more than just summaries lol#I'm equal parts stressed and excited
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#the whole “ahh but being a veterinarian is such an emotional job”#doesnt seem so bad when you remember people go to vet school just for the money#people learn about treating and helping animals just to not treat them because they get paid regardless#so like#bitch i can handle someone's beloved best friend dying at least weekly#ok hold up i am literally so prepared#bitch i handled trying to save my neighbors dog like a champ fr#when i watched and took care of my dog tiny when her leg broke? ate.#i got this#brother taught me how to chase the bag#honestly i probably will be one of the like 62% of people who quit after a year because of how stressful working as a vet is#but yk what?#plan B: working at an aquarium#hell yeah#plan C? death bruh😂#ai got me as an artist chained up#but lowkey id like to work for dreamworks
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I should not have been taught so badly for 3 years that i genuinely have to google how to find job postings in my field. "Get a degree!! Get a degree!!" for why. To be laughed at by out of touch tutors and not taught anything? It's certainly not going to help me get a job because i CANT FIND THEM. "People will see you went here and that will give you credibility." Will it roderick. Because I now know not to trust a motherfucker who went here 💀
#rangnar rambles#taught by people who have not ever had to get into the industry in this state. dont know how to use computers. and (i cannot stress this#enough) DID NOT TEACH ME ANYTHING#I GET MY 27K PIECE OF PAPER IN 2 WEEKS AND YOU CANT TAKE IT FROM ME. SO CAN I GET SOME CONTACTS OR SM#but no yeah im so normal and glad i spent my time like this#WHAT DID I SPEND THREE YEARS OF MY LIFE DOING#if youre going to study illustration in the uk just go to falmouth. i dont go there but anywheres better than here#if [REDACTED] has no haters i am dead and have been ejected from the universe#if i could go back in time id do maths at a level and become a fucking accountant jesus christ#i had a tutor last year who used to do coke and got paid 15k to sit in front of a camera doing nothing by a mate in LA#the same guy our year got fired for being incompetent and aggressive when you asked for help (like. his fucking job)#AND HIS GIRLFRIEND. who was also a tutor and MORE INCOMPETENT#i had one tutor the whole course who had my back i love you jeremy i hope you finally get to retire and stop having to run FOUR COURSES#only man who actually had us do drawing exercises and taught us (in SECOND YEAR) how to draw perspective#so many people got to final semester and suddenly got failed bc tutors were lying to our faces about the quality of our work and not giving#accurate crit. how humiliating is that for everyone involved??#you dont want to tell us our work is shit until the grades are coming out?? and ur shocked when you havent taught anyone anything?? be so fr#it was like they were always shocked that we wanted direction and advice and our feedback was always met with 'well in the 80s there was a#big push for thia kind of open loosey goosey art course' its not the 80s anymore and students have been complainging for a decade#management would 'take on board' criticism and then bank on us all being gone in 3 years so they wouldnt have to actually do anything#all while taking our money and shutting down the entire humanities section of the uni#*actively wating wires* anyway no yeah im soo glad i spent my time like this at least i got a girlfriend i GUESS
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yandere! ex yakuza that is... surprisingly a really good househusband. he can cook, he can clean, and most importantly he absolutely freaking loves you.
yeah, he might have a whole back of tattoos and a few scars- oh! and the history of beating up people (he swears he's changed) and going to jail is there too...
but he's your househusband now!
that's right. you're the one making money while he stays home cleaning, making cute little dishes, going shopping for house essentials... what? he's comfortable with this dynamic! if you want to be independent go ahead! if you're happy he's happy!
it's actually such a change from his previous lifestyle, one where he not only led a whole gang of yakuza members into war and was like, the legendary top dog who would dominate others bla bla bla backstory stuff.
but you know, that life just isn't for him anymore. he's thrown that yakuza lifestyle away. it's just not part of who he is anymore. not after meeting you at least. you really changed him and he's grateful for that❤️
unfortunately you can take the yakuza out of the environment but the yakuza will always stay inside of him or whatever the saying is i don't fucking remember.
so your dreams of having a cute househusband are crushed because this man CANNOT for the life of him look #cute. how can you expect him to look cute?? not with that wardrobe full of suits he isn't. also he wears sunglasses indoors??? and what's with the weird stick he carries around??
anyway, did you hear? there's a sale going on! he knows how stressed you've been with work so he'll take it upon himself to cook you a delicious meal (that's definitely not laced with sleeping pills) so that you can have a peaceful night for once! that's right, you're also getting a massage and he'll even play with your hair until you fall asleep in his arms! now doesn't that sound enticing?
and when you eventually wake up late for work he'll tell you that your boss gave you a paid week off. yay! more time to spend with him! threaten? what no. he didn't threaten your boss, what nonsense are you spouting!
...
well he certainly doesn't look cute but he definitely acts cute. like when how he gets all excited over a sale or a discount happening. he acts like an old auntie sometimes, it's actually so funny.
but let's not forget that this man is still an ex yakuza. he definitely retains his old habits, like i was saying just now. and it obviously has to be ten times worse when you're out with him or something and you get hit on-
"honey no! you can't hit random people with your stick!"
"he was staring at your ass 🤬"
...so that's what the stick was for...
erm... well, now you don't know whether to be angry or to swoon over him. ah whatever! let's just go home!
because once you're home, this man will stop at nothing to make you forget all about his weirdly... violent behaviors towards others.

#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere concepts#yandere ex yakuza#yandere ex yakuza x reader#gn reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
#fallout#fallout amazon#if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo#x reader#finnie writes#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout fic#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard one shot#cooper howard smut#cooper howard imagine#fallout tv#fallout tv series#walton goggins#cooper howard x fem!reader
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⸻ ⸻ ⸻
“You ever think about how weird bathtubs are?”
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: ~2.1k
Summary: “You ever think about how weird bathtubs are?” He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Like, we just sit in a giant bowl of hot water. It’s kind of strange if you think about it.”
⸻
The warm glow of the bathroom lights cast soft shadows against the tiled walls, the scent of lavender and chamomile drifting lazily through the air. The water was steaming gently, ripples forming as Lando slid in beside you, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as the heat enveloped him.
“This was a good idea,” he murmured, tilting his head back against the edge of the tub, eyes fluttering shut. His curls were damp from the steam, a few strands sticking to his forehead, and he looked completely at ease.
You smiled, letting your fingers trace idle patterns on the surface of the water. “Told you. You never listen to me.”
Lando cracked one eye open, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s not true. I listen… sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder. The warmth of the bath seeped into your muscles, the weight of the day slowly melting away. It had been a long week—for both of you. Race weekends were exhausting, and even though you weren’t the one in the car, you still felt the toll it took on him. The constant traveling, the pressure, the expectations—it all built up. Nights like this, when it was just the two of you, away from cameras and obligations, were rare but cherished.
Lando’s hand found yours under the water, fingers intertwining with a gentle squeeze. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.
You hummed in response. “Yeah. Just nice to slow down for once.”
He nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah.”
For a while, there was only silence, save for the soft lapping of the water and the occasional shift as one of you adjusted. You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth, the feeling of Lando’s presence beside you.
Then, in true Lando fashion, he broke the moment with a chuckle. “You ever think about how weird bathtubs are?”
You lifted your head, giving him a look. “What?”
He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Like, we just sit in a giant bowl of hot water. It’s kind of strange if you think about it.”
You groaned, shoving him playfully. “You just ruined the vibe.”
Lando laughed, catching your hand and pressing a wet kiss to your knuckles. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll shut up now.”
You sighed, but a small smile played at your lips as you leaned back into him. His arm slipped around you, holding you close, and just like that, the peaceful silence returned.
No matter how chaotic life got, moments like this reminded you that you’d always have each other.
Lando’s fingers traced absentminded circles on your shoulder, the water sloshing gently with each movement. The warmth, the quiet, the way his heartbeat thrummed steadily against your back—it was enough to lull you into a soft haze of comfort.
He shifted slightly, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “You know,” he murmured, “if I wasn’t a driver, I think I’d just do this all day. Lounge around in a bathtub, live a stress-free life.”
You snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think that would last. You’d get bored in like two days.”
“Okay, true.” He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your shoulder. “But I’d make it two and a half, at least.”
You tilted your head back, catching the fond expression on his face. His eyes were soft, a quiet sort of affection swimming in their depths. It wasn’t often he let himself slow down—Lando was always moving, always chasing the next thing. But here, with you, he let himself breathe.
“What would you do, then?” you asked. “If you weren’t racing?”
He hummed, considering. “Maybe something with cars still. I dunno, open a little garage somewhere, fix up old classics. Or maybe I’d be a full-time streamer, annoy people on the internet for a living.”
You laughed. “You already do that.”
“Exactly. Might as well get paid for it properly.”
You shook your head, your smile lingering. “I think you’d miss it too much. Racing, I mean.”
His expression turned thoughtful, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Yeah. I think I would.”
You squeezed his hand beneath the water, grounding him. “But you’re here now. No racing, no pressure. Just us.”
He exhaled, nodding. “Just us.”
Silence settled between you again, comfortable and easy. You let your eyes slip shut, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the way his fingers laced with yours.
The soft bubbles from the bath tickled your skin as you relaxed further into Lando’s embrace. His hand had shifted to rest gently on your stomach, and you could feel the warmth of his touch seep through the water, sending a quiet shiver down your spine. For a moment, everything felt still and perfect.
“I’ve always wondered,” Lando started again, his voice almost a whisper as he traced the outline of your hand with his thumb. “What makes you so calm? Like, you’ve got this peaceful vibe, even when everything’s going crazy.”
You let out a small laugh, the sound almost swallowed by the warm air. “Maybe it’s because I’ve learned how to be patient. With you, with life… I don’t know. I think I just get that some things take time.”
Lando turned his head slightly, his gaze fixed on you, as if searching for something deeper in your eyes. “You really think that way? Even with everything that’s going on in my world?”
“Especially then,” you replied, squeezing his hand gently. “When things are chaotic, that’s when patience matters most. It’s easy to get caught up in the rush, but… I’m happy being here, in moments like this. And I’m not going anywhere.”
His lips curled into a soft smile, and you could tell the words had settled somewhere deep in his chest. “I don’t deserve you, you know that?”
You chuckled softly, the water swishing around as you shifted closer to him. “You’re stuck with me now.”
He laughed, a sound that was light and genuine, the kind of laughter that made everything feel just a little brighter. “Guess I’ll just have to make sure I’m worth it.”
With that, Lando pulled you in, his arms wrapping around you as the two of you settled in the quiet bath, letting the soothing heat and the simple joy of being together fill the space. For a while, the world outside didn’t matter. There was only the steady rhythm of his breath, the soft sounds of the water, and the peaceful comfort that only came when you had the time and space to truly slow down.
His fingers still traced lazy circles on your skin, a comforting, rhythmic motion that sent waves of relaxation through you. You felt the weight of the day—of everything—beginning to slip away as you let yourself be fully present in this moment with him.
Lando shifted slightly, his breath warm against your ear. His voice was soft when he spoke again, a quiet sincerity in his words. “I know I can be… a bit intense sometimes. With everything going on in my life. But you’re always here. You stay.”
You didn’t need to think about your response. “I’m here because I want to be,” you said simply, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the faintest hint of stubble beneath your touch. “You’re worth it. All of it.”
Lando’s gaze softened, a quiet gratitude in his eyes. His lips parted as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t quite find the words. You didn’t mind. You knew.
You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of the water seemed to make everything more intimate, more real. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, the sensation grounding you in the peace of the moment.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Lando whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.
You smiled softly, raising your head to look him in the eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”
The way he looked at you then, with so much unspoken affection, made your heart swell. The world outside felt so far away—like it didn’t even exist in that space between the two of you.
For a few moments, there was only the sound of water moving gently around you and the soft, steady breaths that passed between you. It was simple, quiet, but it was everything.
Lando finally spoke again, the words coming slower now, as if he was carefully choosing each one. “I like this. I like being here with you, just… not worrying about anything.”
You nodded, your fingers brushing lightly against his chest. “Me too.”
He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your forehead in a slow, lingering kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring the tenderness of it. “You make everything feel calm,” he murmured against your skin.
“I think you just needed someone to remind you to slow down,” you said with a quiet smile, your hand moving to rest over his heart.
“Maybe,” he replied, his smile matching yours. “I think I’m getting better at it, though.”
You chuckled softly, your lips curling into a smile as you relaxed even further into his embrace. “You still have a way to go,” you teased gently, but there was no real teasing in your tone—just an easy affection that had become second nature between you two.
Lando kissed the top of your head again, his voice low but sincere. “I’ll take my time with you,” he said quietly, as though it was a promise.
You closed your eyes, content and safe in the quiet of the moment, knowing that no matter what the future held, these simple, perfect moments with him were what you would always hold onto.
As the water cooled and your skin grew pruny, neither of you made a move to leave.
Lando sighed, the sound slow and content, his fingers still lazily tracing along your arm. “We should probably get out before we turn into raisins,” he murmured, but there was no urgency in his voice, just the sleepiness that came from feeling completely at ease.
You hummed, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Mm, maybe just a little longer.”
He chuckled, his lips pressing lightly against your temple. “You’re going to fall asleep in here.”
“And whose fault is that?” you teased, your hand resting over his where it held you close.
Lando didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder, then another just below your ear, the soft scrape of his lips sending the faintest shiver down your spine. “Alright,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “five more minutes.”
You smiled, warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the bath. The way he held you—gentle, secure, completely present—made your heart ache in the best way. It wasn’t just about tonight; it was about all the nights, all the little moments where Lando let down his guard and let you see the softer parts of him.
Eventually, though, the water really did start to lose its heat, and Lando groaned dramatically as he finally sat up. “Okay, fine. Let’s get out before we freeze.”
You laughed as he reached for a towel, wrapping it around you before taking one for himself. He barely had it secured around his waist before you felt his hands on your hips, guiding you toward the bedroom.
Once inside, the two of you settled under the blankets, the contrast between the crisp sheets and the lingering warmth of the bath making you shiver slightly. Lando noticed instantly, pulling you against him without hesitation. “C’mere,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you, his body solid and warm against yours.
You melted into him, tucking your head beneath his chin as he buried his face in your hair. His fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns along your back, the touch soothing and familiar.
“You’re way too good at cuddling,” you mumbled sleepily, letting your eyes flutter shut.
He grinned, his voice laced with quiet amusement. “That’s because I’ve got the best person to cuddle with.”
You could feel the lazy smile on his lips as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his touch lingering like a promise. A promise that even in the chaos of his world—his fast-paced life of races, schedules, and expectations—this, right here, was where he wanted to be.
“Sleep, love,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
And with his arms around you, the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips, you did.
⸻ ⸻ ⸻
#reb's f1 fics#f1#formula 1#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 x you#formula one#formula one x reader#f1 fic#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfiction#fanfic#oneshot#lando norris x reader#landonorris#lando norris imagine#ln4 imagine#lando norris angst#lando#lando norris#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando x you#lando x reader#lando fanfic#masterlist
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Let Me Take Care Of You
Let Me Take Care of You
Pairing: Daryl x reader
Rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: fluff, p in v sex, smut
A/N: I’ve received requests and will get them finished ASAP as I’m getting ready to have some vacation time from work.
It had been a long, exhausting day as Daryl waited for the gates to Alexandria to open. He was ready to be home, he was ready to see you. Every second he spent away from you felt like years. It was easier for him to go on supply runs before you got together. Now, he hardly wanted to leave your side. Daryl’s cross bow as across his back, familiar faces meeting his. He gave them small nods. They weren’t you. He wanted you.
Carol greeted him, walking along side him. “Hey, you doing okay?”
“Fine.”, Daryl sighed, giving an answer to his best friend. “Where’s Y/N?”
“At home. Waiting for you.”, Carol smirked, playfully elbowing the archer.
He smirked lightly, picking up his pace. Carol thought it was cute that he had finally gave into his feelings for you. She’d seen it a long time ago—beginning at the prison. Everyone had gotten separated once the prison fell. Somehow you and Daryl ended up together and he did everything in his power to protect you until you all reunited with your group at Terminus.
“See ya later?”, Carol continued to tease Daryl.
“Yeah.”
Daryl finally reached the steps of the home you both shared. He trotted up the steps, ready to knock on the door when he was met with you opening the door. A huge smile came across your face, butterflies filling your stomach, and you felt your cheeks heat up. Daryl immediately tossed his crossbow down and took you in an embrace.
“Y’ okay baby doll?”
“More than okay now that you’re back safe and sound.”, you smiled as you pulled back slightly to view his face, brushing his hair out of his face lightly.
He flinched slightly under your touch, making your heart sink. Something happened to Daryl but he hadn’t talked much about his past other than the fact he and his older brother, Merle had a hard upbringing. It was far from the perfect life most children had—or at least Daryl had envisioned them having when he was a child. Daryl didn’t mean to flinch, he just wasn’t used to being touched so gently.
“M’ sorry.”, he sighed, apologizing quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Daryl could see his reaction had clearly hurt your feelings. The old him may have not gave a rat’s ass whose feelings he hurt but this was you. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you.
“Come inside, honey.”, you smiled sadly as you grabbed his hand.
Your accent was just as southern and sweet like honey. It was one of the many qualities he loved about you. He picked up his crossbow with his free hand, following you inside. He laid his crossbow where it could be easily accessed if need be.
“Let’s go upstairs.”, you breathed easily.
The master bedroom and bathroom were located upstairs. Alexandria had been a breath of fresh air since you all had arrived. The recruitment process might have been a little stressful but it had paid off. Daryl was helping Aaron recruit new members for Alexandria, cutting another dent in his time with you.
Ever since arriving at Alexandria, Daryl had not relaxed. He had not let his guard down and he had not taken in the simple pleasures that everyone else had such as running water, electricity, food, and rest.
“What’re we doin’?”
“You’ll see.”
Daryl had no clue what was in store for him. The stairs lightly creaked underneath your all’s feet as you made your way to the top. Daryl never liked being in the dark about anything, he liked to know what was about to happen whether it was good or bad. You looked back at him as you opened the door to the master bedroom. Daryl smirked lightly, thinking he knew what was about to happen.
To his surprise, you passed the bedroom and opened the door to the master bathroom. He continued to follow you inside almost like a lost puppy.
“Close the door.”, you breathed.
Daryl was confused. “Uh—okay.”
He did as you asked.
“Now, take off your clothes Daryl Dixon.”
He wore a bewildered expression. “What?”
“Take your clothes off.”, you repeated, voice steady and soft.
Daryl tried to move past the surprise of it all, beginning to unbutton his shirt. Daryl wasn’t used to you being dominant in the relationship. He was more used to you being submissive (well, in the bedroom that is—). His held his green eyes on you. Your eyes switched from his down to his fingers, carefully unbutton each button. A smile creeped up on your face, cheeks beginning to heat up as you imagined what he could do with those fingers.
Daryl noticed, chuckling lightly to himself. His shirt opened, revealing his very broad chest and shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice, taking the sight in. Daryl slid his shirt off, tossing it on the ground before reaching for his belt. He made quick work of undoing his belt, unbuttoning his black jeans, and stepping out of them half-hazardly. He stepped closer to you, treading lightly.
His fingers trailed the hem of your shirt, beginning to pull it up. Your brain immediately wondered if you should let him do this or make him wait, something he wasn’t used to doing. He watched you, waiting for any objection but there wasn’t any. Closing your eyes and letting out a soft sigh, you allowed him to pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor with his.
This left you only in your bra as he immediately went for your jeans, lips crashing into yours. Nothing felt better than this. When you were with Daryl, you felt safe. You felt secure in this unsure, ever changing world. He didn’t miss a beat, undoing your jeans and helping you out of them all while keeping lip contact.
“Get in the fucking shower.”, you breathed, breaking the kiss.
“Don’ hav’ta tell me twice.”, he opened the glass shower door before turning the hot water on.
Somehow, between all the rough kisses and nibbles at your neck, you both managed to get completely naked. Without saying anything more, Daryl pulled you inside the shower. Hot water rushed over your tired, aching bodies. Daryl was used to living a hard life. Hell, sometimes as a child his parents forgot to pay the power bill or water bill, leaving Merle and Daryl to figure out how to keep themselves clean and warm. That’s why he wasn’t used to all these “luxuries”.
As soon as you felt the cold shower wall against your back, Daryl pushing you against, you moaned into his mouth and he knew he was breaking down the wall. He knew you loved him, he knew you wanted him.
“Daryl.”, you breathed, breaking the kiss but your lips were still touching.
“Yeah, baby girl?”
You swallowed hard, trying to form words. He could tell you were struggling to gather your thoughts.
“Tell me, baby girl.”
His nickname for you made your stomach twist up like a pretzel. He knew just how to get you going.
“Take me.”
Daryl’s lips curved into a smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”
You smiled back as he spread your thighs, positioning himself between you. Gulping lightly, you could feel his hard cock brushing against your thigh, eager to enter you. Some women may have been repulsed by Daryl and his ruggedness, but you found it very attractive. A man who could fend for himself but protect what he loves at any cost.
The room was thick with steam that poured from the shower. You pulse quipped and your mouth was dry. You could feel his cock digging into you, making your desire drive you further.
“Ready?”, he asked.
Consent was always sexy and it was sweet. He asked you every time before you all had sex. You nodded, preparing yourself for what was to come next. It had been a few weeks since you all had found the time to have sex. Daryl was bursting at the seams, ready to show you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him. Sex with you was different than it had ever been with anyone else.
“Tell me if it hurts, baby girl.”
“I—will.:”, you assured him, croaking lightly.
He thought it was cute how wound up you got. It made him want you even more. If that was even possible. He picked up your thighs, bringing them to circle around his waist. Your all’s shower was long forgotten for the time being, something better in place of it. Daryl wasted no time in slipping inside of you, his thick cock filing you and splitting you open, causing you to gasp. He began working soft strokes into you. If he wasn’t holding you, you were sure your legs would have given out by now.
Daryl looked up at you to make sure everything was alright.
“You doin’ okay?”
“Fi—fine, feels fine babe.”, you assured him, your nails digging into his skin.
This amplified his pleasure, a moan escaping him as he threw his head back, hair soaked. Dryness took over your mouth, noticing all of his tattoos in plain view. It was another thing that made him incredibly sexy.
“Fuck—you feel good, baby girl.”
Daryl smirked as he sank his fingertips into your thighs, knowing he was going to leave marks. But you loved it—secretly, you loved anything he did. You felt your lower half tense, Daryl continuing to help you towards your orgasm. You could feel every inch, vein, and tweak of his cock—all helping to add to your sensations and sensitivity. Daryl somehow managed to put his lips back to yours, your moans going straight down his throat. He wanted you so badly, he wanted to swallow every little sound or hiccup you made.
“Shit—Daryl—,”, you began moaning, breaking contact abruptly.
“Hmmm?”, he teased through a hum. “Gonna cum already?”
Your breathing became hitched, voice breaking through shallow breaths. “Ye—yes. Fuck, can I cum?”
Daryl was surprise you asked permission. There was certain times in the bedroom when that came into play.
“You don’ hav’ta ask permission from me, baby girl.”, he breathed. “Not this time.”
“Daryl.”, you whined through a moan nto his mouth.
“Hm?”
“Gonna—cum—now.”
“ ’S okay baby girl, cum for me.”, he reassured you, taking a hand and brushing it through your soaked hair.
He felt you tighten around him immediately, incoherent babbling coming out of your mouth. You juices spilled all over his cock, causing him to moan in response. Daryl didn’t immediately follow, in fact his cock felt even harder than before.
“Fuck your cunt is is gripping me so tight.”, he grunted, breaking the kiss.
Your body was still shaking, reeling from your orgasm and Daryl seized this opportunity to start fucking you faster. His hands pulled you off his cock only to slam you back down on it, moving your body like it was nothing. Your body couldn’t stop shaking, your stomach twisting and aching but you knew you had more to give him. Your hands gripped his neck tighter, trying to hold onto his fast moving body. He was fucking you so fast and so hard that you didn’t even had time to catch your breath. No need to when he would just take it again anyways.
You felt his cock twitch and you both knew he would cum soon and you couldn’t wait for him to fill you full. Even if you knew the risks associated with it. All that filled your ears was moans worthy of the big screen and whines coming from you. Daryl’s moans and grunts added to the music you both were creating. The steam from the bathroom wasn’t helping you think straight. You were beginning to feel dizzy and disoriented. All you knew in the moment was that you needed his cum immediately.
"Can I cum in ya?’
“Yes.”, you breathed.
“Ya sure?”
“Very sure.”
“You want the possibility of carrying’ my baby, don’t ya?”
This made your stomach twist further, you nodding.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”, he grunted.
And within a second, you felt his warm cum deep inside of your cunt. His hips stuttered as he let out a long groan, almost matching the pace he was using to spill inside of you. It was euphoric—more than either of you could have ever hoped or dreamed for. You all stayed there, catching your breath and he left himself inside you, making sure every last drop got inside.
After you both began smiling and laughing, he asked if he could pull out. Much to your dismay, you agreed. But all you could do was smile at him. It felt like you were a giddy school girl.
“Now, we’re gonna shower.”, you smirked up at him.
“We are?”, he smiled back.
“Starting with me lathering your hair. It needs a deep washing considering all the walkers you’ve killed lately and how hot it’s been.”
“Sayin’ I’m dirty?”, he teased.
Grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting it on your hands before taking them through his hair, you began laughing. “Only in the best way. You’re going to let me take care of you, Daryl Dixon. Whether you like it or not.”
“Just takes some gettin’ used to.”, he smirked. “But after this, it’s my turn."
“Didn’t you just take care of me?”
“I did but I’m gonna do it again.”, he responded, trying to relax into your touch.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#rick grimes#daryl twd#the walking dead#the walking dead daryl
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༊*·˚ NEW JOBS AND DEATH THREATS — cod x reader
CRAVE YOU — call of duty x reader CHAPTER ONE
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + alejandro vargas + rodolfo 'rudy' parra + könig + keegan p. russ
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, prison au, serial killer au, reverse harem, therapist/patient, medical inaccuracies, graphic violence, depictions of murder, everyone's unhinged, poly tf141, minor ships, threesomes, foursomes, gangbangs, this is not medical advice!!
series masterlist. read on ao3.
Life was hard. That was a fact.
Bills and groceries didn’t pay for themselves. That was also a fact.
Adding these two factors together, the final product will be a high-risk job in one of the highest-risk places on Earth. That’s… not a fact.
And yet, here you are, standing at the visitor entrance of Las Almas Prison, sporting a disgruntled grimace and a new pair of black slacks that you’d splurged on. They, at least, made your ass look good, although that was truly the least of your worries.
No. Your current list of worries looked something like this;
Getting Murdered
Getting Attacked
Vomiting Within The First Five Minutes Of Your New Job?
…Yeah. Something like that.
The early morning sun is blinding where it sits, just off to the side of the giant concrete building that was the main offices and Visitor Centre. The fact that you were standing in front of what was only a small part of the overall prison grounds was… alarming.
You were well aware that this was the largest prison in your country, housing the most lethal and awful of criminals. Some you’d seen either on the news, or heard of in passing conversations.
This was the real deal. And, somehow, you’d managed to find yourself being hired to work here. You. Work with serial killers. The worst of the worst.
With the stress on your bank account, and the endless struggle that was trying to find a stable career in the current job market, you simply had no other choice but to accept the offer. It paid extremely well, had great benefits, and your safety was… fairly considered.
The amount of NDAs, liability clauses and agreements, however?
Not the best at calming your nerves, to say the least.
The biting chill of the winter wind has you wrapping your arms around yourself, leather bag slung over your shoulder as you finally step through the automatic sliding door.
You’re not surprised to find that the chill only deepens inside the concrete walls of the building, with no heaters or air conditioning from what you can see. There is, however, bright white overhead lights that do nothing except aid the throbbing in the side of your head – probably due to the restless sleep you’d had the night before, anticipation and anxiety warring inside of your thoughts.
There’s an office in front of you as you step in, with only a few decades-old couches to your right, in front of a dingy TV that’s turned off. Saving their budget for more important things, you suppose.
The walls are a pale, grimy yellow, with sparse photos hung about, framing newspaper articles that are surely from the last century, and black and white pictures of the prison’s opening.
It’s an unsettling place, that much you’ve already gathered.
You haven’t even actually been inside the prison, you remind yourself, your stomach churning where it now lays at your feet.
Without a second thought, you continue with hurried steps to the front desk, where scratched plastic encases the sole woman inside, sitting behind a monitor. There’s a circle of holes that allow for sound to pass through, but other than that, there’s no way of entering from this room. With a quick study of your surroundings, you see a steel door to the left of where the desk sits, with a small square window covered in iron bars.
…Jesus christ.
“Can I help you?” The woman drawls, sliding her glasses further up her nose. Her voice is nasally, and the words come out in a slow drawl as she looks you up and down, unimpressed.
You give her your best smile, although even you can tell that it’s an uneasy one. “Yes! This is my first day, I think I’m supposed to be meeting Kate Laswell?” You ask, nerves betraying your voice with unsteady breaths.
The woman snaps her gum.
You stand there.
She blows it again.
You continue to stand there.
Her gaze is bored and completely void of any thought, before she nods slowly. “Laswell… I’ll call her.”
Really, you couldn’t be more shocked if you tried. What the fuck was happening? How could one lack so much… professionalism?
“Hi, Kate. Yes, it’s Jenny. I have a new hire who apparently wants to see you…” Her voice remains that unbearably slow, sloth-like delivery, before her eyes unhurriedly meet yours again. “What’s your name…?”
You give it to her, tone only the slightest bit impatient as you roll back on the heels of your feet. You can only hope that your black boots are appropriate; you’d figured that they were safe, closed-toe and still somewhat professional.
Time would tell. Jenny was giving you the impression that they were more than acceptable, because at least they got you to do your job in a timely manner.
Jenny says a few more words to who can only pray is Laswell on the other end of the phone, before she places it back in its holder.
“Laswell will be here any…” She pops her gum once more, and maybe, just maybe, you can understand the urge to murder. “Moment.”
You give her a tight, painful smile. “Thank you, Jenny.”
She doesn’t respond, and you decide to just stand back and wait. You certainly weren’t complaining – any more conversation with her would’ve ended with a severe lack of hair on your head.
A minute passes, before a buzz in the pocket of your slacks has your throat tightening.
Pulling out your phone, your next exhale comes out shaky as you read the text.
Charlie: get milk otw home used it all
No ‘good luck’. No… ounce of care for you, or the absolute stress that comes with a new job, let alone one like this.
When you’d told him about the offer, all he’d said was, “It might make you worth something for a change.” Didn’t even question, not for a minute, the risks that came with a job like this. He simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.
“Doctor?” The sound of a door opening, and the kind, almost motherly tone of the voice has you shoving your phone into your pocket once more as you turn to the source of the sound.
It’s a woman, her hair pulled back into a slick bun, one hand holding what seems to be a clipboard. Her other hand rests in the pocket of a white coat, not unlike one a scientist would be fashioning in a lab. Her smile is warm, the corner of her eyes crinkling as you direct a smile of your own her way.
“Kate Laswell?” You ask, extending your hand for her to shake. Taking her hand out of her pocket, she accepts it gracefully, nodding her head.
“The one and only,” she says, before gesturing to the steel door she’d entered through. “Now, today we’ll get you set up with a keycard, general rules, and I’ll have you meet two of your patients.”
You nod, following her as she swipes a card in a black reader, before the red light buzzes green, and she pulls the door open. Right behind her, you take an unstable deep breath as you take in the greyed, jagged walls, a complete contrast to the painted ones of the entrance room.
“We really are so glad to welcome you to our team,” she continues, her black work shoes clicking against the smooth concrete flooring. She doesn’t turn to you as she speaks, but her voice carries around the echoey hallway. “You’ll make a great addition. A necessary one, also. We’ve needed an innovative, young therapist for a while. Most of our… previous hires have held out-dated beliefs, and a lack of humanity for their clientele.”
That makes your brows furrow in confusion. “That’s… odd,” you murmur, before pausing your steps as Laswell stops, swiping her keycard, before entering another room.
As you step into the newly revealed space, your eyes go wide as you take it in.
It’s a wide, large space, with several floors. Metal staircases sit at either end of the vast space, allowing access to every floor. Guards sit at every level, some walking around the space where you and Laswell stand.
It’s a lot, all at once. You’d never even stepped foot into a prison – not before now.
“Most inmates are at the mess for breakfast,” Laswell supplies, turning to you with a neutral expression. She gestures for you to follow her back out of the space, and you do with hurried steps. “The ones you’ll be dealing with, however… they usually eat by themselves.”
You don’t decide to push that statement, not now, as you continue to follow her down the hallway.
“You won’t be seeing much of the prison,” she admits. “There’s heavily guarded spaces on the top floor for your sessions, both for your protection and for the safety of our staff and other low-risk inmates.”
You nod, humming a sound of affirmation as the two of you start heading up the cleaner steps at the end of the hallway. The staff staircase, you suppose.
“Today, you’ll be meeting two of our more… understanding ambers.”
You raise a brow. “Ambers? What does that mean?”
She turns her head over her shoulder, just enough to shoot you a knowing look. “Ambers are our highest-risk inmates. We house ten of them, and you’ll be dealing with eight as per your contract.”
Your stomach falls. You’d known, of course, that the risks were high when applying for this role. But… this was more than you’d imagined, in a way. Ambers. Huh.
Silence falls over the two of you as you make your way up the never-ending steps, no windows in sight. It’s unnerving, in a creepy, strange way. When you finally reach the top, you try and hide how out of breath you are from that small exertion.
Fucking christ.
Laswell, for her part, looks completely fine in an effortless way. You can’t eve find it in yourself to be envious. The feeling’s closer to admiration.
“Here’s the files on them both. You’ll be seeing Kyle Garrick first,” she hands you the clipboard she’d been carrying, and you accept it with only a slight tremble. She doesn’t comment on it, and you find yourself warming up to her already. “They’ll be restrained, and there is heavy security, so you needn’t worry about that side of things.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” you say earnestly, flipping through the files without reading much of anything, not yet.
She waves you off with a soft chuckle. “None of that. Kate’s more than fine,” she insists, and you give her a bright smile in return. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad – a boss like this was much better than a creepy middle-aged man any day of the week.
You don’t realise you’ve made it to a small room until she stops walking, scanning her keycard and pushing the door open, gesturing you in. “While you have your first two sessions, I’ll sort your keycard and the rest of the processes out. I wish you luck.”
With that, the door shuts behind you, and you’re alone in a small room.
It matches the rest of the hallways you’ve seen – grey concrete walls, grey concrete floors. The only furniture, however, is one metal table drilled into the floor in the centre, one chair on either side.
…It’s depressing. Not at all like you’d prefer, not for a fucking therapy session, but then again, you hadn’t met your clients yet.
Ambers. High-risk.
With a deep breath, you take a seat at the chair closest to you, finally reading through the top file on the clipboard.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick.
You skim over the height, weight, sex – immediately reading the comments made and his sentence.
Mass murderer. Motivated attacks.
Your eyes go wide, almost comically so, as you bite at your lip, folding one leg over the other as you continue to read.
Of course, you’d prepared, been made aware that you’d be dealing with murderers. But having it in black and white, right in front of you, is a whole other thing entirely.
Apparently, they were motivated attacks. Targets being large CEOs, specifically those with reported claims of misuse of power, and those against green laws. Anti-environment types.
The motive is… you’re aware killing is bad. You hadn’t spent years studying for a degree in Psychology to think otherwise. But it wasn’t as simple as some made it out to be. You’d done papers suggesting that certain motives implied healthier patterns, healthier outlets.
If you had to choose between him killing pregnant women, and CEOs with broken moral compasses?
It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out your answer.
You’re about to flip the page when there’s a knock on the door on the other side of the room, before it opens.
There’s two guards that walk in, before a man in an olive green jumpsuit follows, hands cuffed tightly together in front of him, head down. Another guard from behind shoves him in, too rough for your liking. You sit up straighter, eyes assessing as you take in the man in the jumpsuit.
He’s forced into the chair opposite you, before one of the guards grabs his cuffed wrists and chains them to a rig in the middle of the table. You’re grateful for the precautions, but there’s a part of you that feels guilty watching the manhandling of the seemingly calm man.
“Half an hour,” the most brutish guard of them all grits out, beer belly spilling out over his belted jeans. He jostles the chain attaching his wrists to the table unnecessarily, and your eyes narrow.
He goes to leave, along with another guard, but one stands to stay in position inside, beside the door.
Your brows furrow, and you speak up before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sir, but my sessions will need confidentiality, as for the best results. I’m sure that I’ll be safe with his restraints.”
The guard stares you down, seemingly mulling your words over, before shrugging and leaving the room, door shutting behind him.
…Huh. Alright.
You find your posture relaxing, just slightly, which is odd, considering you’re now only a metre or two away from a convicted murderer.
His gaze is trained to the table, left foot tapping incessantly against the concrete floor.
“It’s nice to meet you, Gaz,” you say with a soft tone and a gentle smile. You figure that his nickname is the best bet, not wanting to stir up any possible traumas with his given name during your first session with the man. “I’ll be your new psychiatric evaluator.”
His eyes flick up, meeting yours, and he nods slowly, as if awaiting a punchline.
“Is it okay for me to call you Gaz?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and flipping to an empty page to take notes on. You’d need to grab a notebook from home, you decide.
He relaxes, only the smallest of movements, and he nods. “Gaz, yeah.”
Your smile widens at the small victory. Any step towards progress was a huge one, in your eyes. You’d be facing a lot of them in the coming days.
“Do you have any advice for this place?” You push, trying to form a bond of trust with the dark-haired man. “I’m gonna be honest, you’re my first patient, and I’ve only met Laswell and… Jenny?”
His mouth quirks at that, a dimple showing to the left of his mouth as he looks back up at you. “Jenny’s a character, ain’t she?”
You laugh, a genuine one, and nod. “She certainly is. You’ve met her?”
He shrugs, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Few times, yeah. She drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” His accent is only minimally apparent, but his voice is of a somewhat humorous tone.
Small victories.
“Well,” he exhales, settling into his chair a bit as he seems to ponder. “Do ya know who else you’re assigned to?”
You’d been sure to thoroughly go over your contract, and you were allowed to disclose your other patients between your others. They’d find out within the day, anyways, so there was no point in being discreet.
“It’s only you and a… John Price? Today. I’m sure I’ll find out the other six over the next few days,” you say, appreciating that he’s starting conversations. It’s more than you’d allowed yourself to hope for.
Gaz’s eyes light up, and even if you hadn’t been incessant in watching him, it’d be an obvious shift in emotions. “Price?”
You nod, quickly making a note on your clipboard, before folding your hands in your lap as you gesture for him to continue with a quick inclination of your head.
“He’s the best. Man’s a legend,” he enthuses. “Love ‘im.”
There’s… a hidden truth to that statement, that you make a mental note to unpack during a later session. Your smile is a natural one as you say, “He’s an amber, correct? Laswell told me I’d been assigned eight out of ten ambers… you’re one of them, right?”
Gaz seems to fold into himself, and you kick yourself for going back to square one. He answers, however.
“...Yeah. Only Ghost ‘nd Valeria are aggressive, though. We’re just… misunderstood,” he murmurs, and in the back of your brain, you find yourself believing his words.
“Thank you,” you smile, and he responds with a sharp one of his own. Maybe you’d covered more ground than you’d expected. “I think it’d been mentioned that I was only assigned men, due to the nature of the job, or something like that.”
Seeming to mull over your words, he starts to slowly nod. “Sounds ‘bout right. As long as you don’t get Graves, you’ll be alright. The others are… fuckin’ weird, but they’re good men. Mostly.”
That’s a lot of information at once, and quite frankly, it takes a moment for you to process.
“‘Good men’. What do you think it takes to be a good man?” You ask, curiosity laced into your tone. Getting to ask such questions of a convicted murderer, it’s a thrilling, exhilarating task.
His eyes don’t shift as he replies. “Good men do the acts others are too scared to do. They see the evil in the world, and rid of it with their own bare hands. You can be an ethical murderer, Doc.”
Those words, they’re – they’re authentic, and conviction aches in their structure.
You swallow around a dry mouth.
“You think you’re a good man?” You ask.
His smile would be seen as warm to any who weren’t aware of his acts, but to you – it’s chilling. Haunting in a way you’ve never experienced.
It remains as he answers.
“I think that I’m a man who people wish they had the bravery to be.”

a/n. okay so im really nervous about posting this, cause ITS EIGHT FUKCING LOVE INTERESTS and also im a humanities girl not a science one!! sociology all the way not psych!! so forgive me for all the inaccuracies and legality issues please. im just a girl. hopefully u guys will like this one? i mean, obsessed serial killers cod is smth i need so here we are. all comments and feedback mean so muchhh ty ily mwah mwah mwah
taglist comment/msg to be added. [nothing to see here.]
#🤍 : crave you#⌨️ : love's writing#cod mw2#call of duty#mw2#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#soap cod#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#john price#kyle gaz garrick#task force 141#141#ghost x soap x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#soap x you#soap x reader#price x reader#price x you#gaz x reader#gaz x you#gaz cod#alejandro x reader#rudy x reader#rodolfo x reader#konig x reader#keegan russ x reader
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cover me
poly!stray kids x fem reader
genre: angst, fluff at the end
content warnings: stress from uni/work
word count: 1.5k
summary: money, work, school. it was only a matter of time before the boys would see her crumble, and be there to pick up the pieces
requested: @straykidsnerd255
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Every time she tried to take one step forward, something would ultimately knock her back twice as far. Finally having a very generously paid job as an intern at a big company was serving her well, yet with the return of going back to university, finding a work-school balance was becoming difficult.
Truly, that was the hardest thing. She had great people around her, those being her uni friends or her loving boyfriends, the renowned Kpop band, Stray Kids. The way they cared for her and each other with such strong morals and support meant that surely it would be easy to confide in them.
Not always, especially in this case.
Other times she would be thankful for the fact that her partners all had a longer practice at the company, not to their own detriment of course, but because it gave her more time to get herself together and paint on a calm picture of 'I'm definitely not struggling right now and on the brink of my second breakdown of the day'.
However, this time she really needed them. The stress had amounted to such a level that she felt it right through to her bones, and so she found herself crying over the smallest things, which in turn let out the release of her biggest pain.
"Stupid shoes, why aren't they organised, there's too many," she sniffled, sat on her knees by the front door as she began to cry at shoes. Yes, shoes. Her boyfriends' shoes to be specific. She would have thought at least Seungmin would have berated the others for their lack of organisation at this point but even his were out of place.
"They didn't even match them back up," she cried, and more tears spilled out, "oh, why am I even crying right now?"
Sometimes being in such a state meant that it was hard to understand your own feelings, your thoughts far too occupied with the wants of other people to be able to manage the basic needs of your own.
Eventually she gave up on the shoes and wiped her tears, walking slowly over to the sofa and letting her body fall into it with a soft thump. She tugged a soft velvety blanket over herself, one that Felix probably picked out due to it's plush exterior, and instinctively cocooned herself. Her heart felt heavy, her eyes hot and burning as the tears kept falling. All it took was a reminder on her phone for a work assignment, and a uni assignment, to trigger a sob to catch her throat.
"Too much," she sobbed to herself, trying to muffle the sounds even though there was no one else to hear them, "it's too much."
She was wrong. Not about her feelings, gosh, no, but the fact that she thought she was alone.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Hyunjin was crouched down right in front of her trembling form, almost hidden if it wasn't for the blanketed lump that had been shaking so much it couldn't have been natural.
His hand brushed her hair back and his thumb rubbed under her eyes, catching the tears that seemed to keep appearing. Hyunjin watched on in deep concern, just like their other boyfriends did the more they realised something was wrong.
"What? When, when did you get back?" she gulped down her sobs, or attempted to, even though her words still came out messily. She sat up, the blanket falling off her shoulders and resting around her hips.
"Don't worry about that, love. Just tell us what's going on, yeah? What's wrong?" Chan held her against him immediately, taking a seat ñext to her. The only time his arm that was wrapped around her moved away, was to let Jeongin lift the blanket back up to keep her warm.
"I don't know," she sniffed indignantly, coughing lightly through her cries when she tried to clear her throat. Her arm pressed against the lower half of her face.
"You're getting yourself in a state now, come on, move your arm, you know you don't have to hold back in front of us," Seungmin sighed sadly, seeing his girlfriend so stressed. He pulled her arm towards her lap which he was sat in front of, holding her hand with one of his own and the other rubbing her knee.
"Thanks," she said sarcastically at first, until hearing the rest of what he had to say and tilting her head up to the ceiling to blink away the rest of her tears.
Chan pressed a kiss against her forehead, and everyone was around her to offer comfort, Felix and Changbin in particular wanting to jump out of their seats on the adjacent sofa to take all the pain away.
"What's got you to upset, jagi?" Jisung pouted, his own eyes glistening as he saw how upset you were.
"It's stupid, really," she began, rubbing at her eyes roughly, Hyunjin subsequently tutting at her and pulling her other hand away that Seungmin wasn't occupying.
"We're not doing that, jagi," Minho shook his head, brows furrowed, looking down at the floor with his hands folded together, "if it's upset you, it's not stupid."
"Exactly, please just tell us, you know we just want to help, that's all," Felix quickly pitched in, face crumpled sadly much like your own.
"There's just too much going on really. You know? Like, oh-" she had to cut herself off when her voice cracked with emotion again.
"You're ok, take your time," Jeongin gave a small smile and nod to reassure her.
"We're listening, baby," Changbin's raspy voice rung out.
"I've got a good job right? Like, it pays so well, but now with going back to uni it's just like I don't have time for anything. I-i'm having to squeeze in hours where I don't have them because my boss won't help me work around my timetable," she explained, the clashing of two parts of her life and time issues being what was clearly causing so much turmoil.
"I'm sorry, darling," Chan tugged her closer to him, a frown on his face.
"Don't be sorry, not your fault, is it? I'm just so tired, I'm exhausted," she admitted, pressing her lips together and taking a deep breath in order to not cry again.
"We'll help you figure this out, ok?" Hyunjin leant his head against her shoulder.
"Ok, ok," she let out a deep breath and nodded.
"I think you need to focus on uni, love. If work can't meet you in the middle then, it's hard," Seungmin trailed off, not wanting to fully leave her in the dark but not wanting to be too blunt.
"What do you think, jagi?" Jisung wondered, curled up against Minho, one leg hanging over the older's lap.
"I don't know. I don't even wanna make any decisions right now," she shook her head tiredly, blinking a couple times.
"That's understandable, baby, how about we just relax for now, ok?" Changbin suggested.
"And if anything else is upsetting you, please tell us," Chan huffed with a knowing smile.
"Ok, promise," she grinned.
₊˚⊹♡
She must have fallen asleep without realising, as she found herself waking up to Jeongin and Felix giggling over something on the latter's phone.
"What's going on?" she murmured tiredly, pressing her face deeper into... Jisung's chest, it took one whiff of his cologne to be able to tell it was him.
"Had a good sleep then, hmm?" Minho poked her forehead, slow blinking at her.
"Mm, yeah," she nodded, "Lixie, Innie, what's funny?"
The two froze, looking at her a bit guiltily.
"Well, umm, you know we have that camera in the hallway, just in case for security, like if someone broke in or-" Jeongin began to ramble awkwardly,
"I know, yeah," she nods, adjusting her head against Jisung's chest as he loosely keeps an arm around her, securing her to him.
"We're actually sorry for laughing, babe, it's just... You were crying over our shoes earlier?" Felix can't even keep eye contact as he explains.
Jisung stifles a laugh and so she slaps his chest playfully through her mild embarrassment, making him yell out dramatically.
"What's Sungie done now?" Hyunjin asks as he flops onto the sofa, entering the room again after leaving Chan, Seungmin and Changbin to managing the cooking.
"It's more about what our jagi did," Minho teases, looking at her with a smug grin.
"Guys, I was stressed, leave me aloneeee," she huffed, but it didn't stop the light laughter that filled the room knowing that she wasn't completely upset about it.
"Sorry, but..." Jeongin chuckles again, "the way you throw the shoes away from you is so funny!"
"What did our shoes do to you?!" Felix laughed again as he watched the video on replay.
"They smelt bad," she grinned happily, teasing them back as revenge, "specifically Ji's."
"Yah!"
Jisung gave her a noogie, keeping her trapped in his arms. He couldn't let her discredit him like that.
"Sorry! Sorry! Hahaha!"
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Lean On Me (Part 3/7)
Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Robinavitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader
Getting Coffee with Michael is starting to become your favorite part of the day.
Warnings: talk about rehab, drug use, casual drinking, slow burn,
Part two/ part four
taglist: @dayswithoutcoffee, @hagarsays, @4ishere, @omgbrianab
You don’t really know how it happens but after your daily visit with Frank, you would exit the center and head straight to the diner where a plate of pancakes would be waiting, along with a very happy to see you doctor.
Breakfast with Dr Robinavitch, or Michael as he now asks you to call him, quickly became your favourite part of the day.
You were both on night shifts, you at the bar after you had had to practically beg your creep of a boss for your old job back, and him at the hospital, which he grumbled about every time you asked how his night had been. Michael apparently did not love doing night shifts, telling her there are other doctors on the roster who appreciated the darkness more.
Your old job was soul destroying. After months in Europe, laying out in the sunshine and walking hours in comfy orthopedic runners, it took all your energy not to cry as you laced up ankle snapping heels under the fluorescent lights behind the bar.
The clientele hadn’t changed in the months you had been away, some of the regulars hadn’t even noticed you were gone, instead immediately falling into their old habits of lewd comments about your weight and begging for a dance. But with every rude comment, ass grab and blistered toe you were slowly crawling out of the credit card debt hole you had fallen into.
Which was especially helpful as Frank’s therapist informed you today that the amount you had previously paid for the in-house rehabilitation program had only covered two weeks, so you had maxed out your cards again and promised to pay the remainder by the end of the week.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, but seeing Michael at your booth with a coffee and breakfast waiting was enough for the worries to be pushed aside, at least for the time being.
“How’s Frank?” He always asks immediately after checking in with your own welfare, where you of course lied and said everything was a-okay.
“He’s good! He’s up and about today, less angry at the world which was great!” You dig into the pancakes, the syrup coating your lips.
“That’s really good to hear. Do you think he would want company later today?”
“Yeah, I spoke with one of his doctors and he said more visitors are encouraged.”
“Great! I’ll see him before I head to bed and pass out.”
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“You can’t name a dog, Dog!”
“Why not! I didn’t ask for the stupid thing!”
“But you could literally name it whatever you want!”
“I want to name it Dog!”
“Spot?”
“She doesn’t have a spot.”
“Bella?”
“Ew- no!”
“Roxy?”
“She’s not a stripper written by men in a midday movie.”
“You can’t call her Dog,” Michael laughed, his eyes crinkling again and your heart literally skipped a beat.
“What about in ‘Breakfast at Tiffanys’, she had a cat called Cat.”
“Naming a cat, Cat, is fine! But you can’t name a dog, Dog!”
“Why not?”
“Because!”
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“Why are you covered in glitter?”
“Accident at work?”
“A glitter related accident?”
“I split a box of glitter as I put it on the shelf, and spent the rest of the night cleaning it up.” The lie was another familiar line, one you had said too many times to Frank and your parents when they had happened to notice you had come home covered in body glitter.
“That sounds stressful.” Michael actually sounded sincere, as if your made up profession was something to stress about. As if he wasn’t an ER doctor.
“I mean I didn’t lose a patient or anything.” you quip and his face falls and his fingers tap against the chipped coffee mug.
“I lost too many last night.” he admitted, grief and exhaustion lacing every word and your heart breaks.
“Oh Michael, I’m so sorry.” You say as your hands reach across the table to his hands. They practically swallow your hands up and you cling tight to them.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“They were street kids, doing drugs…”
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“She literally came right up to the window, peed and then told us to go fuck ourselves and left!”
“And that's your favourite patient?”
“Sadly, out of all our frequent flyers Myrna is the one I don’t mind seeing.”
“And she’s the one that calls you Fruitcake?”
“Yep and wants Jack- that's Dr Abbot- in a biblical way.”
“She’s said that?”
“Many, many times.”
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“You look wrecked.”
“Thanks Doc.”
“Are you getting any sleep between work and Frank?”
You shrug and drink the coffee that's been placed before you, your body is so wrecked you don't even add creamer or sugar to the drink, you just need the caffeine to work to get you through breakfast, home to walk Dog and then a quick nap before you were back at the club for the mid afternoon shift which would then turn into the late night shift. And then back to the Rehab center for the therapy session with Frank and the cycle would continue.
“I’m fine.”
“I don’t think you are.”
“I’m fine.” you snap, and you flinch as Michael stills, his eyes not moving from your hands that you notice are now shaking.
“When was the last time you slept for longer than six hours?”
“Never.” you try and laugh it off but Michael isn’t having it, he's moving from his side of the booth and sat beside you.
You're like a deer in headlights, he was so close you could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes. He smelt like sandalwood and smoke and you lean into the scent, letting it fill your head.
Suddenly his fingers are on your wrist, holding tight.
“Are you checking my pulse?”
“I’m checking your vitals.”
“Why?”
“Because if you go and drop dead from exhaustion I’m going to be really mad.”
“I told you I'm fine.”
“And I don’t believe you.”
“Michael!”
“Sweetheart- let me do this.”
The fight goes out of you as your head is filled with the scent of him and the sound of him calling you Sweetheart.
“I’ll take it easy tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Did you sleep last night?”
“I went home early and got about four hours.” you said happily, pouring a heaped spoon of coffee into the coffee he had just bought for you.
“That's not six hours.”
“It’s better than the one hour I got the other day.”
“For fuck-”
“Hey! Like you do better!”
He looked sheepishly away from her, his grin making you laugh.
“See I’m not as bad as you! At least if I die on the job no one would miss me!”
His smile dropped and he leaned across the table, forcing you chin up and meeting your eyes, his brows were furrowed and his mouth thin, you could almost feel the anger in his touch.
“I would miss you!”
“Sure.” You try to shrug it off his touch but his fingers tighten on your chin.
“Sweetheart, you are my favourite part of the day.”
Sweetheart the nickname is becoming your favourite sound.
“Same, Michael, you’re my favourite part of my day.”
#fanfiction#the pitt#dr robby x reader#dr robby x you#michael robinavitch x reader#dr michael robinavitch#the pitt fanfiction#dr robby imagine
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DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)
JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.
They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.
One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.
The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.
Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.
Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.
"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:
"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.
"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"
And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.
Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.
A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:
"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.
"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:
"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.
"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.
"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"
There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:
"Hell, yes."
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I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.
Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.
Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.
Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.
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Tag list: @mae-mae-mae @okami-love @fantasticstoryteller @ultra-stormsaga
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#batman#jason todd#giw#good!giw#multiverse#multiverse police#team phantom#red hood#bruce wayne#lazarus pits#danny gets rid of the pit rage trope#because he can#i find it hilarious if he turns the pit rage into a stress ball#so jason can now squeeze it as hard as he can when he is angry#poetic#cork prompts#cork writes
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