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#How to buy sleeping pills
kiki-strike · 4 months
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PTSD is so stupid saw a jar of biscoff cookie butter at the store and went ha that’s the brand they had in res. (Completely unaffected). Then went home and had a panic attack about it (????)
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katharine-hepburn · 1 year
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life imitates art. get obsessed with devils minion, become nocturnal and insane
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anadorablekiwi · 1 month
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Nightly existential despair has hit because i live in a broken world where the only job i can emotionally handle is part time produce clerk and my current income is so low i dont have to make student loan payments yet
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diejager · 5 months
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Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3
Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.
You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.
It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.
You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.
You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.
He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.
What a nice roommate you have, no?
Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday
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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍
SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basks in the fact that you're ofically his. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. buying reader, kidnapping, general lack of consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, power imbalance, blackmailing, threatening; A/N: Quick reminder. I do not support this kind of behaviour. This is just a piece of fiction and serves as enetrtaimnet purposes only.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 who had bought you.
Earlier that week, unknowingly to you, he visited a small apartment you and your family were occupying. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was aware where and how you were living but it still mortified him how you – his precious darling – could be living like that. 
“You deserve better…more…” he repeated in his head every time he thought about you. Which was always. So it didn't come as a surprise to anyone he had decided to do something about it sooner than later.
Yes, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 greatly appreciated being so warmly welcomed by (his soon to be in-laws) your family. He even witnessed himself from where you got some of your traits from but business needed to be made.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was straight forward from the start.
The deal was simple: he will pay your family a handsome sum of money monthly and you'll belong to him wholly. They'll completely disappear from your life, becoming nothing but a shadow of your past. In his head he knows you won’t need them anymore.
If not, their financial situation which was already bad will be even worse. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 is a man of power and has a lot of money. Your parents, knowing this, quickly understood that it's either willingly giving you away and getting the money or he will forcefully do so with them landing on a street, probably dead.
From the beginning, they had no choice.
"And here you are, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 whispered lovingly into your ear before gently laying you on the king size bed. You were put in a deep sleep by an alcohol you drank during his luxurious party (he threw to celebrate sealing the deal but shhh...) and strong sleeping pills he had added to one of your drinks. He made a mental note to pay the doctor he got them from an extra since you didn't even twitch the whole way you were carried here.
"I hope the bedroom will be to your liking." Your (captor) future husband carefully took off your shoes and laid them by your new bed. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 wanted you to be as comfortable as one person can be. Then he took the neatly folded blanket made from the highest quality silk and processed to snuggly tuck you in. When he finished, you looked like the bed could swallow you at any given moment.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help himself and brought his hand to your head, caressing it while staring at your face in adoration. "If not I'll change it however you like it."
Secretly, he hoped you'll be sharing a bedroom (especially bed) soon.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sat down by your side, the softest mattress he could find easily dipping under him. He didn’t care that he was wrinkling his expensive party wear consisting of a black tuxedo imported straight from Italy that accentuated his lean body in every positive way. He was looking his absolutely best. For you.
"Oh how I love you, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 purred and his fingers ghosted over your cheek. He leaned down close enough to your face that your soft breaths were fanning him. Some of his slicked back hair fell down tickling your forehead. His mesmerizing eyes were gleaming with the passionate and deep rooted love he had for you. "You belong to me."
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sealed your fate with a peck on your lips.
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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clanoffelidae · 1 year
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You would think based on my avatar that I smoke but the hardest drug I’ve ever done is the amphetamines prescribed to me by my doctor lol
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cordeliawhohung · 25 days
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pet!au part 2 | ghoap x fem!reader
simon brings you home
cw: stalking, panty/clothing stealing, drugging, kidnapping, non-con touching, nsfw, simon is a freak and johnny is pathetic
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Things began to go missing in your apartment around July. 
They were simple things at first. Items that could easily be lost in some hidden crevice you wouldn’t find until you moved out of the place. At first, it started out with clothing, and they were usually items you wouldn’t pay much mind to. When you lost your favorite pair of underwear, you treated it just like you did with your mismatched socks. What a shame. You’ll just have to buy more later. 
Then a pair of underwear became a pair of shorts, which then became a bra, and then a shirt, and then your favorite sweater. It was the one you always wore when it was cold out, and though you hadn’t worn it for months, you noticed its distinct disappearance from your closet. Strange. You swore it was hanging up with the rest of your jumpers earlier that week. Perhaps you had put it in storage and forgot? You’d have to check some other time, you were going to be late to work. 
While you had been plenty attentive when it came to your missing clothing, there were many other things you didn’t notice. Like a shampoo bottle slightly out of place in your shower. Strands of hair untangled from your brush. New scratches on your deadbolt. The masked man who watched you exit your apartment. 
Simon had learned that when it came to obtaining pets, he needed to do the process slowly. Snatching you right off of the streets wasn’t going to accomplish anything if things were too unfamiliar to you. No, he needed to make sure you were comfortable. So he tracked down the brand of toiletries you used, your style of clothing, your sizing, everything. He found those exact brands and bought copies that would greet you when he would finally bring you home. 
Meanwhile, he had an impatient animal at home to satiate, so taking a few personal items couldn’t hurt. What better way to get Johnny acquainted with your presence than having him sleep with the pair of panties he had snatched from your laundry? He was certain he had caught the mutt jerking off with the fabric wrapped around his cock the other night, but he was just happy to not be pestered into fucking the pathetic thing, so he let it slide. 
There were more important things for Simon to do than fuck Johnny every time his cock got hard, which was often. That was going to be your job, as it seemed like you needed a new one based on the rejection email he saw on your laptop. Looks like that interview you had been dressed up for a few weeks back hadn’t gone all that great, and judging by the dead look in your eyes as you worked the late shift at the bar, you were desperate. 
Good. Desperate pets always made the best listeners. 
At least your top was nice that night. Something Johnny would certainly enjoy seeing you in. Some low cut tank top that attempted to fight off the sweltering heat that lingered in the small confines of the bar. Even Simon had to admit that he felt sweaty and claustrophobic in that place, yet he still refused to remove that thick balaclava. The perspiration caused the skin on your chest to become illuminated under the dull glow of the light fixtures above you, and you were too busy serving drink after drink to pay any mind to the strange bloke hidden in the corner. For such a perceptive pet, you couldn’t manage to see the forest through the trees. Always paid perfect attention to the head on the beers you served, and how clean your station was, but couldn’t taste the pill Simon had slipped into the soda you had sipped on that night. 
Of course, he was patient with it. Didn’t want to slip you anything too early into your shift. Your co-workers were bound to get annoyed with your absence and go looking for you. No, he waited until the patrons dwindled to just a small handful before approaching you to pay for the drink he hadn’t taken a sip of all night. Simon was well aware of the effect he had on people. He was a large man with unkind eyes and a bitter attitude, yet you still put on a brave face and smiled at him as you took the cash from his hand. Didn’t bother to check your drink for tampering before downing the rest like it was a shot when you returned. 
By the time the world started to spin and you felt your dinner from that night wanting to come back up to say hello, Simon was ready. With pupils blown so wide and dilated, it was impossible for you to think straight. Your body didn’t know right from wrong, and so when his arm wrapped around your waist, it didn’t fight against him. Everything you were had been rendered into nothing but a perfect, pliant mess for him. 
It wasn’t until Simon pulled in front of the house that he realized he might have given you too strong of a dose. You hadn’t stirred the entire car ride, and he had to check your pulse to see if you were still breathing, and he was slightly relieved when he felt the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He didn’t even want to imagine the whining he would have to hear from Johnny if he had accidentally killed you. Not to worry. It was best if you were asleep anyway. Johnny would certainly pounce on you otherwise. Cradling you in his arms, your limp body was brought into the house, and Johnny bounded out of the living room the moment the door slammed shut behind him. His eyes were as wide as saucers the moment they landed on your body. You looked so soft. He wanted to dive right into you. 
“Down,” Simon warned.
Johnny’s impatience was drowned out by the static that jolted through his body. This new excitement had his blood coursing through his veins with resurrected vigor. Refusing to give Simon any reason to deny him his new treat, Johnny trailed behind him like a good pup as he brought you into the bedroom. You were placed on the mattress with such care one could have confused you for some prized possession. If he wasn’t afraid you’d shatter, Johnny would have thrown himself on top of you. 
“She’s so fuckin’ beautiful, Si. A goddamn angel, she is. Please, can I? Let me touch her, I wanna touch her,” Johnny asked, eyes begging for approval. 
Before giving him a reply, Simon’s hand reached for his throat. The thick leather collar that adorned his neck always got twisted around one way or another, and he quickly straightened it out. Silver glinted in the dim lighting of the bedroom as Simon’s thumb swiped across his dog tag. Soap was the name Johnny proudly wore on his collar; one he never even dreamed of taking off. 
“Play nice, yeah?” Simon ordered. 
Johnny nodded, and once he had gotten his confirmation, Simon let go of the leather around his throat. Wasting no time appearing by your side, Johnny laid down next to your motionless body on the mattress where he enveloped you in his embrace. Had you been awake, you certainly would have cried out at his crushing grip, but your unconscious body didn’t know any better. It gave him no reaction as his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck where he inhaled long and deep against your skin. 
“Fuck,” he groaned, hips grinding against your thigh, “smells like heaven too. Christ…” 
Wandering hands pawed at your body, taking things from you in your unaware state that you were sure to miss come morning. But how was he supposed to stop when your supple flesh felt like a divine comfort in the palm of his hand? Simon had gotten you for him. This was his right. This was what he had earned. 
“When will she wake up?” Johnny asked, not bothering to remove his face from your neck. 
“Dunno,” Simon replied, bored. “Have your fun, just don’t fuck her. You hear me, mutt? Keep that fuckin’ cock dry ‘til I tell you, yeah?” 
“Yes sir,” he answered, though it was impossible to fully hide the whine in his tone. 
As Simon’s feet meandered out of the room, Johnny only buried himself further into you. Hands under your shirt, hardened bulge against your thighs — he couldn’t get enough of you. Your scent was intoxicating, and he couldn’t hold back the groans that escaped his mouth while his lips pressed against your jaw. 
“Welcome home, Bonnie.”
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peppermoss · 2 years
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#m#........................................#.............................................................................................................#...........................................................................................................................................#realized i haven't posted update here on my Second Public Diary#how many tw/cw does this even need. christ#anyway. at the point where i'm going 'when do you call a hotline?'#but also. if i get a therapist will they like. forcibly institutionalize me#i'm so terrified of that lol#oh well. i get home and i will consume all the alcohol in the house i was saving to celebrate#i have a bottle of expensive shit that was for our anniversary. how sad is that#all at once until i'm out -> go buy more -> repeat#what kind of a special hell am i living in lmao#i'm either quitting and breaking a lease and moving with no job disappointing and letting down my whole library#or staying in an apartment that isn't mine in a life half mine in a town not mine paying too much and drinking + medicating myself to sleep#every night (since. you know. i cant sleep without some kind of intervention now)#not even touching the nightmares. i cant stop thinking abt everything when i'm awake but it's so much worse in my nightmares all they are#are him and us and what we used to be and it's so painful or it's violent and heartbreakingly tragic and horrible#of course i can't stop taking the sleeping pills bc then i don't sleep at all so the nightmares are just. inescapable#besides the fact that where i am is it's own special hell which i always was aware of but at least we were together and friends were here#a small town that's racist and homophobic and transphobic and lonely as FUCK how am i supposed to do anything all my friends are leaving#it's so so horribly lonely.. real fans will remember the last time it was this bad i got PTSD that lead to 'fractured ego states' so.#cheers to seeing how this one will end up. god#in the limbo of not wanting to be alive but not wanting to be dead either. sigh#i hate that adult life has consequences all i want to do is be able to run away#and tell someone else to deal w my stuff and clean it up / out and get rid of it#all i want to do all i want to do. i just want to run#jesus#jesus..#pitiful
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the-kr8tor · 9 months
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The Morning after
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Synopsis: you spend a peaceful morning with Hobie.
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to be smaller than Hobie though) TW food mentions, established relationship, FLUFF , lovestruck Hobie.
A continuation of this fic.
My Masterlist
*I don't consent to having my work translated/published on other platforms*
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Hobie wakes up with his right arm aching, he groans from the weight slightly crushing his arm– wait what?
He opens his half asleep eyes with a confused look. Hobie cranes his neck down, he finally sees who the intruder is.
Hobie smiles to himself, Fully waking up, he remembers that he invited you over. He stares at your form, memorizing every bit of detail from how you clutched his jumper with a grip, your lips slightly parted as you exhale, the early morning sun shines at your back, bathing your form in a heavenly glow. Hobie moves you closer to him, as to not let the rays hit your face and disturb your peace.
He tries to move you both farther away from the edge of the bed, but he finds that your legs are intertwined with his, preventing him from moving.
He huffs, a lopsided smile on his lips. Hobie ghosts his thumb over your cheeks, the pattern from the knitted blanket leaves a mark on your skin. A sign that you've slept well, and in his arms no doubt. His forgotten comforter kicked to the foot of the bed.
He gets a whiff of your coconut shampoo, surely leaving its scent on his pillow.
He thinks about buying a proper toothbrush holder, so he could place his and yours together.
He really should invite you more.
Hobie's spidey senses wake him up from his daze– he clutches you closer to his body, carefully cradling your head. A wave from a moving boat rushes towards the houseboat, rocking it harshly. His busted alarm clock drops to the floor in a crash.
Hobie hisses as he sees you twitch. He curses whoever was in that boat.
"Ughh" you groan out, muffled against Hobie's chest. You grip his jumper tighter.
"Shit" his voice deeper than usual, you release his jumper and instead hug his torso. The waves get calmer, rocking you both softly.
"You alright?" He rubs your back just in case you feel sick.
You pop your head away from Hobie's chest, chin resting on his scratchy jumper, you tickle him a bit, but he won't tell you that of course. You open one eye to stare at him, yawning.
"Say that again?" You ask with a tilt of your head.
"Are you alright?" He hides his laugh by clearing his throat.
"Hmm" you grin "I like your morning voice"
He chuckles deeply, knowing what it does to you.
"Oh, you did that on purpose, you dork" you softly say.
"Yeah, bet it got you all hot and bothered for it too, huh" Hobie pokes your sides teasingly.
"Don't start" you swat away his hand, noticing his teasing mood this morning, you anticipate his tickling.
"You look pretty in the morning, you didn't wake up early and clean yourself up secretly, right?" He knows you didn't, sleep still sticking on your eyes, your hair looking disheveled.
"Nope, it's au naturel" you quip back. It earns a deep chuckle from Hobie.
He carefully rubs off the gunk from the corner of your eye, you sigh into his touch.
"You like my morning breath too?" He tries to blow air downwards but you're ready, you clasp your hand over his mouth, stopping his teasing.
You laugh victorious, that is until he licks your hand, recoiling your hand away, he laughs loudly.
"Hobie! That's it, I'm not making you breakfast"
"Alright, alright, I'll stop. For now" he grabs the back of your head pushing you back to his chest.
You move to the crooked of his neck instead, in case you're crushing him. You slyly wipe his drool from your hand on his jumper.
"I saw that" Hobie peeks downward.
"No, you didn't"
"This is vintage y'know"
"It's your own drool!" You laugh.
"Yeah! And you slobbered all over it while you used me as your personal pillow" he rubs the exposed skin on your waist, cupping the softness fondly.
"I don't slobber!" You grab his jaw downwards so you could look eye to eye.
"Tell that to my soaked jumper" he whispers, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Your heart skips a beat.
Knowing what he's gonna do next, you cover his lips over your hand, "let me brush my teeth first"
You push away from Hobie, your torso barely off the bed, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down. You gasp out.
"Nope" in one swift movement Hobie cups your cheek guiding you towards his lips, your lips crash against each other, you cringe when your forehead hits his a bit too loudly. Insecurity fills you when you remember that you still have morning breath.
He doesn't care though, instead he pokes your sides, making you gasp parting your lips, making him kiss you deeper.
You pull away breathlessly when you hear a rumbling noise underneath you.
"Ah, fuck" Hobie facepalms in embarrassment.
Hobie's stomach grumbles again, mocking him.
You grab his hand, peeking in "aww, my poor baby is hungry" you mockingly coo. "I'll make you breakfast, sunny side up right?" You push off him, finally noticing you're on the wrong side of the bed.
"Yes, please, love" he exhales out the embarrassment.
"How'd I end up on this side?" You point out.
"Huh, I probably dragged you with me"
You imagine what it might've looked like, you fluster. Even asleep he wants you near, you look at him adoringly, swiping away the sheen on his lips before leaving a kiss for good measure.
You leave for the bathroom, he stares at the door you entered in, a lovestruck expression on his face. Once he knows you're decent, he flips away the covers, following towards the sound of the faucet squeak open.
Hobie knocks, you hum while brushing your teeth. He opens the door, then leans against it, his arms relaxed on his sides, his sweatpants hang low on his hips.
He admires you bathe in white fluorescent light, his shirt on your form hanging loose on you. You looked out of place but at the same time fitting right in his tiny bathroom.
He thought you looked like you came out of an oil painting.
"You need to use the bathroom?" You ask as you place your toothbrush down.
"You should leave it"
"Leave what?"
"Your toothbrush, for next time" Hobie crosses his arms, a sudden shyness floods him.
"Of course" you smile, already getting what he's trying to say, "I was already planning on leaving it" you come forward, leaving a minty kiss on his cheek. "Your turn stinky" you pat his bum with a smack.
Hobie hears your laughter echo around the houseboat.
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After washing up, Hobie opens the bathroom door, the smell of eggs and his favourite tea covers his senses. He chuckles to himself.
He could get used to this.
Hobie enters his modest kitchen, you hum along to the music from the radio, the inside of his houseboat looks a bit different than before, there's more light shining inside, fresh air wafts through the open windows, it seems that there's more life in his home.
He moves towards you, hugging you from behind. You giggle at the contact. He looks over your shoulder, he watches as you expertly flip the pancake over.
"Hello to you too" you crane your neck to look at him "I opened the windows, it's too nice outside. Hope you don't mind"
"I don't mind, we need the fresh air" he snuggles deeper on the crook of your neck. "Where'd you get pancake mix? I know that I don't have any"
"Ah, I brought it with me" you side glance at him, gauging his reaction.
"So, you were planning on making breakfast for me, hmm?"
"I did bring it, but it doesn't mean I was planning on cooking it myself" you turn off the stove, he turns you around, crowding you in between him and the stove.
"So you're making me breakfast out of the goodness of heart then?" He holds onto your hips.
"Yes, you're making the next one by the way"
"You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" He leans towards you, his lips ghosting over yours, but before sealing the deal, he grabs his mug behind you. He sips from it loudly, making eye contact over the mug.
You roll your eyes, trying to hide your disappointment. "You're a menace" you give him a plate of eggs, sunny side up just like how he requested it. "Make yourself useful, and set the table"
Hobie sees his kitchen counter slash dining table, that's not gonna cut it out for you. He looks out of the window, the rare sun shining over the river, fluffy white clouds blanket the sky.
It's a beautiful morning, a shame to waste it.
He pushes the door open, leading to his 'porch'
"Where are you going?" You ask curiously.
"You'll see" Hobie peeks back inside, a smirk on his face.
You shake your head at his shenanigans, you wonder what he's planning.
The water looks calm, the cold morning air nips at his skin, his jumper barely protecting him from the cold. Hobie sees the metal table wet with morning dew, that won't do, so he grabs a nearby cloth to wipe it dry, he carefully puts down the plate of eggs and his tea, to wipe at the mismatched chairs.
Hobie wipes the wooden chair more thoroughly, since the metal one looks more worn down, he's concerned you might poke yourself on it.
He looks at his handiwork, there seems to be something missing, Hobie roams his eyes around the boat, his eyes stop at an empty beer bottle, he places it in the middle of the table acting as a centerpiece.
Then he perches himself near the edge of his boat to pick a single daisy from a neighbouring houseboat's flower pot; he's sure they wouldn't notice one missing. Hobie gingerly puts the small flower inside the bottle.
You open the door with your foot a little too loudly, you squint at the harsh sound. Hobie quickly moves to help you carry out the plates and mug.
"Thanks, Hobie," you grin, your smile gets wider when you see his little set up. The little daisy swaying in the air. "Oh, handsome" you gasp out.
You're finished, your eyes slightly glazing over.
Hobie chuckles at his new nickname, he moves the wooden chair for you to sit, hands on its back, like a gentleman.
" C'mon then, stop gawking, I'm starving" he stares at your dumbstruck face, the cold air leaving goosebumps on your arms.
You sit down, smiling, forgetting the cold air.
"Do you want me to grab a jacket?" He asks as he rubs your arms from behind.
You grab his wrist, you bracelet around it with your fingers, "no, stay, I'm okay" you sniff, revealing your lie.
"Nah, I'm not letting you freeze to death, let me grab it real quick, alright?" Hobie runs inside, eager to come back to you.
Oh, he's absolutely whipped for you, no doubt about it.
You revel in the sun shining on you, closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. Hobie sees you like this, his breath hitches in his throat. You must look heavenly, a slight breeze makes your eyelashes flutter. Opening your eyes, you notice eyes on you, you smile at him.
He's done for.
Waking up from his stupor, he wraps the dark hoodie on your head. A feeble attempt to hide the effect you have on him
"And here I thought you were being sweet on me" you tease him, knowing that he actually is soft for you.
"I've got a reputation, y'know" he sits down with a metal creak.
Hobie notices that you're sitting a little bit too far for his taste. "What are you doing there? C'mere" he grabs your chair, pulling it towards him, the wooden legs scraping against the metal of the boat.
You laugh, despite the harsh sound coming from the scraping.
"There, much better?" He leans on the arms of his chair.
You nod, a permanent smile on your face "much better" you kiss his cheek, your cold lips a contrast to his warm skin, it melts into his skin, etching in like a tattoo.
You intertwine your arm around his, speaking softly, as to not disturb your little peaceful bubble around the both of you, " y'know I thought you would be grumpier in the morning"
"Why's that?" He leans closer.
"I don't know, you seem like the type" you whisper against his lips, "you're a night owl, so I thought you would hate waking up this early"
"Only if I don't sleep well" heat rises in your cheeks at his implication, "Lucky for me I've got my very own koala latching on to me last night"
You raise your eyebrow "Really a koala, that's the best you can do, Hobart?"
"You always resort to calling me by my government name whenever you're flustered, koala works, lovey" he cups your jaw, his thumb brushes past your lips. You close your eyes, leaning in.
Before your lips could meet, you hear a gurgling sound.
You pull away, laughing loudly. Hobie lets out a small goddamnit.
"We should eat, before your stomach starts eating you from the inside" you say in between laughs.
"Yeah, yeah" he grumpily grabs his spoon.
You hide your smile behind your mug.
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A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it, as always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️
*image above is from pinterest*
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cowyolks · 4 months
Text
Simon Riley is the most self-sacrificing, loyal, and devoted person there is.
He shouldn’t be. The world didn’t owe him shit.
But it was in his nature.
Ever since he was old enough to talk, he’d protect his own. He’d hold Tommy back from arguing with his dad, knowing it would only result in black eyes and tears. He’d watch mournfully from the staircase as his mother took the fall.
He’d be there after, not long after drunken snores sounded from the couch. Simon would have tissues held in his hand, offering it to his crying mother along with a kiss and hug.
“I’m sorry.” He’d apologize, knowing it wasn’t his fault his mother had slap marks on her face, or blood on her lip. He was only sorry he wasn’t strong enough to fight him.
After a couple years, Tommy fell into similar habits, picking up the liquor and any drug he could lay his hands on.
Simon once again took the blunt of the fall. His caring heart breaking at his brother’s anger and decreasing health. He’d throw away the bottles he could find, flushing any pills down the toilet.
He was caught once, arms at his side as his brother screamed at him, shoving him down to the ground. Simon only took the fall, knowing he wouldn’t hurt his brother, not when he knew this wasn’t truly him.
He’d even stick up for Tommy in school, taking on the fights his brother picked up over drug prices. He’d take every punch to the gut, every kick, every blow to the face— one hit so hard he lost his front tooth in a spat of blood.
His mother didn’t have the money to fix it. He told her not to worry, he’d get his own job.
Simon, at the fresh age of 16, received his first job working as a butcher apprentice. He’d stay up late hours working overtime, sometimes even sleeping in the back against the cold meat freezer.
He found it to be a relief to butcher something, imaging it often to be his father’s face, despite his sharp blade only sinking into bloody chunks of meat. Often times he’d take the leftover scraps home to his mother, just so she could have something to eat that night.
He’d never spent any money on himself, until it came to the time to get that tooth fixed, despite the earful his father gave him for not scraping enough change for “rent.” 
He worked hard for two years, hardly sleeping, taking care of others. His hands were now covered in shallow scars, his muscles evening out as he grew to his full height. He was strong, he was tall, but his maturity stayed the same. Simon was an adult for his whole life.
He was at the shop when the news broadcasted, displaying the two burning towers in New York City. He watched the gruesome videos, seeing the terror and fear.
He was filling out his paperwork the next day, going to basic training the next week.
He would never forgive himself afterwards, for leaving behind a grieving mother and angry brother.
When he returned, now a man of potential, all in his freshly pressed uniform, his mother had wept. Proud tears in her eyes as she held onto her pride and joy. Simon had willingly embraced her, nearly squeezing her to death.
“Missed ya, Mum.” He’d sigh, eyes squeezing shut.
He’d ask about his brother, half-knowing it would still be the same since he left. But now, Simon was bigger, he knew how to fight, how to expect the worst. Hell, his sergeants screamed more than his father or brother ever did.
So Simon once again left for his brother, this time throwing away all the drugs and alcohol and watching him like a hawk.
Tommy had never been so angry, falling backwards and into the withdrawling stage. That was the worst of it.
Simon was once again selfless after a trip to the grocery store, buying his mom groceries for the week. A pretty cashier had left her number on the receipt, but instead Simon had introduced her to his brother instead.
They had hit it off, now going on their third date. Simon had never been more grateful for Beth, despite the nagging in the back of his mind that thought, “what if I wanted to date? What if I wanted to be happy?”
But, he’d always put his brother first.
It’s why he found himself smiling beside an alter, putting his whole life on pause to watch his brother dressed in black shed tears as his very pregnant fiancé walked down the aisle.
She gave a cute little wave to Simon, before happily taking Tommy’s hand to exchange vows.
Simon fought hard on his way to the SAS, watching brothers die and serving many tours. He always worried in the back of his mind that he’d become too much like his father. A cold hearted killer, someone who took love and crumbled it in a fist.
He thought he deserved to be punished, the cold meat hook impaled in between his ribs. The bruises, the cuts, the sexual assaults he was too weak to fight off. He deserved it all.
He was a shell, but at least his family was safe. At least he could justify his need to protect his family. He’d take a million torturous acts to protect his sweet mum, or his brother, his sister in law. Their sweet bundle of joy Joseph.
Roba had cackled about killing his family, how he’d destroy them. It’s why the jawbone was clenched between Simon’s fist, dirt filling his lungs as he dug out of the casket. He had to get home. His purpose of being alive, was in danger.
He was a selfless bastard, but he’d never wanted to be so selfish after seeing the blood on the floor. To not feel the horrid pain or hear the hollowed screams his body released involuntarily.
Roba had ripped out Simon’s heart and crushed it to powder. Took his mum, his family, his home.
Simon Riley was a Ghost.
He’d visit their graves every year, speaking of his life and how he missed them.
He’d tell them of his task force, how Man United had won another game. He’d sink to his feet in front of little Joseph’s gravestone, setting a toy plane against the moss.
He found tears were easy to fall.
“You’ll catch a cold out here, Simon.”
An angelic voice had called out to him, a warm hand anchoring him to the gravitational pull that was you.
You knew little of his life, of his service. But you knew him, and the brute cursed himself every day for letting such an innocent and beautiful creature get close to his tainted flesh.
You somehow wormed your way into his heart, healing and patching the tears and allowing himself to be selfish just this once.
He loved you.
And maybe, just maybe he could find himself being a person once again. Tying his soul to you and holding you against his chest like the precious gem you were.
“I’m coming, love. Just had to say goodbye.”
He could be selfish. Just this once, right?
He took your hand.
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blkkizzat · 7 months
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ღ𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙨 & 𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙨 ღ
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11/14: Werewolf!Toji Part 2 up now!
Halloween is my fav holiday and Horror is my fav movie genre so how could I not participate in a SPOOKY KINKTOBER!
All inspired by my favorite horror villains!
Song Inspo: Thriller & Smooth Criminal General CW: Blood play might be heavy in a few of these. Dubcon or Noncon in most of these but the reader will enjoy/consent by the end. Death but only of minor/NPC no name characters(ie, your fuckass bf, bitchy chem professor, next door neighbor, mailman, etc) and manipulation. Schedule: There will be no order. But for the month of October I will only be focusing on these until I finish. Subject to change if I hit writers block or I may add more (but doubt it as classes start end of this month). Tag: will tag works #☾﹒✖☠𝘬𝘪𝘻𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳
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ღ𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮ღ
FreddyKruger!Sukuna
Kink Tags: Teratophilia, Size Difference, Virgin, Chasity Synopsis: Teens in town have been dying in their sleep from horrible dreams. Hard up virgin Y/N won't take sleeping pills to stop dreaming because she only gets relief in her wet dreams. What will happen when Sukuna (true form) enters them? WC: ?
Sadako!Geto
Kink Tags: Voyerism, Squirting, Overstimulation Synopsis: Camgirl!Reader hasn't been able to make herself squirt yet and is teased by her chat. She buys a new toy and downloads a random porn an anon user sent her "guaranteed to make you squirt" but is it just a normal porn? Or is there something more sinister on it? WC: ?
Werewolf!Toji
[Part 1 ღ Part 2] - Finished! Kink Tags: Breeding, Dacryphilia, Aphrodisiac  Synopsis: Catching him in a lie, you suspect your boyfriend Toji is cheating on you. Where does he keep disappearing to once a month that keeps him away for often days at a time. You're fed up. You've made up your mind this time to follow him but are you ready for what you discover? WC: 10.4k
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ღ𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙮 𝙖 𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝘾𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡ღ
Ghostface!Choso
[Part 1 ღ Part 2] - Finished! Kink Tags: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? WC: 15.4k
Hannibal!Nanami
Kink Tags: Olfactophilia, Body Worship, Menophilia Synopsis: You're immensely grateful for your kind, empathetic and open-minded (not to mention very handsome) psychiatrist Nanami who has gotten you through some very rough patches in your life. However when you show up at his home office for unannounced session and discover him preparing dinner, are you whats next on the menu? WC: ?
InvisibleMan!Gojo
Kink Tags: Mirror Sex, Frottage, Stalker Synopsis: Fed up with his antics and him ignoring you, you breakup with your tech genius boyfriend Gojo. It's been a month and you've started to move on with your life but odd occurrences have been happening around you and you have the feeling you are being watched 24/7. You need a vacay and your friend Shoko offers up her lake cabin. Will you be safe there? Or will whoever is watching you have you right where they want you? WC: ?
BONUS: Free for all section of general Halloween themes if I finish all the rest or need to do a quick drabble to cure writers block.
Why you can’t watch scary movies with JJK men - Drabble, 2k words
Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK Men - Fic 10k
JJK Men Slutty Halloween Costumes - Ask
If i have time I will do Cult/Ritual Sex/Gangbang on reader. With most if not all JJK men listed here
Not poppin' enough for an official taglist but if you are interested in any of these stories let me know and I will tag you. ETA - 11/21 still taking adds as I do plan to finish the rest, eventually.
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
Glitter text created @ Pookatoo.com
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grippingbeskar · 1 year
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old partners, new plans
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— joel miller x fem!reader
—warnings: explicit content minors dni (oral m receiving, mxf) swearing, very minor dom!joel but it’s like not an established thing
—a/n: back at it!!! hope you guys enjoy! i love writing for joel sm. he so sexy <3
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“That was not the deal.” You growl, squaring your shoulders.
“Deals change.” Is all the reply you get, Joel still leaning against the frame of your door. You can hardly see him there, the dark of night shrouding him in something akin to mystery— at least, he would be mysterious if you hadn’t already seen every inch of him.
“You know that’s not fair, Joel. I’ve waited ages for this opening, and I’m fucked without the pills to trade.” You take a step towards him and lower your voice, knowing people have been hung in the centre of town for even thinking about leaving, let alone having an entire plan like you did. Or had. “I need to get to them.”
“You don’t even know they’re out there.” You bite back a laugh, turning away from him. You hear the click of the door behind you, and Joel sounds louder as he finally steps into your house. “This is a bad idea— always has been. You got no proof, no solid plan… you’re fucked with or without the pills.”
“Oh, because you’re so sure Tommy’s still alive? That plan is so well thought out— huh?”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not! My family is out there, and they’re waiting for me. I know they are. I’ve had this plan for months— months, Joel! You know what this means, and you choose now of all times to hold out on me?!” You shout now, head under his chin staring up at him.
“I’m not holdin’ out, there’s nothin’ I can do about it. My guy ain’t getting back for a week, and I can’t just pull strings I don’t have.” Your heart plummets. The look in his face seems genuine— broken, sad… but it doesn’t make you any less angry. “I can’t help you.”
“But you were fine taking my batteries and tools. And my route to the outside for the last six months. All that you were happy to take me up on, but now it’s time to pay and you’re suddenly empty? I don’t buy it, Joel.” You say his name harshly, with none of the need and honey-like sweetness you remember from those few months of bliss before you told him you were getting out. Before he iced you out completely. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. As what— some kind of pay back?”
“You know that’s not—“
“Why? Because I’m not sleeping with you anymore? That’s fucking low, even for you. And you are the one that stopped that, not me, so don’t blame your blue balls on me just cause you can’t deal with the inevitable.” You suck in a quick breath, wishing you could take the words back.
Oh, he’s fucking angry now. Before he was letting you rant, letting you yell at him because he knew he was in the wrong but something about your comment made him flip.
Neither of you had mentioned what happened. How that night, when you told him you were leaving, he just got up and left your bed, never coming back. Sure, you were blunt and maybe a little harsh when you told him you were going, but he didn’t even look at you for a week. Only when you went to him to ask for the last piece of your escape plan, he managed to look at you, but even then he was short and harsh like you had been. Like you’d done something to him personally— left him cold and alone in a giant bed, words you never got to say still stuck in your throat. How he never gave you a chance to finish, to explain, to ask him to come with you. Find both of your families.
It was the first time you’d really spoken at all since then— conversations that used to be never ending and comforting turning to surface level communication, only speaking when necessary. Sure, you were shouting at each other right now but at least you were talking. Anything was better than silence.
“Don’t you ever fucking say that to me. Don’t you dare tell me I had anything to do with you leavin’. You did this to yourself— to us.” He didn’t yell, but you sort of wish he had, because the low, growling tone of his voice was somehow ten times worse. “You were the one who wanted to leave. I never—“
“You don’t have to remind me.” You don’t let him finish the thought, instead cutting him off and diverting your eyes to the fists at his side, straining with fury. His knuckles were bruised, either from work or a side gig he didn’t tell you about. He never told you about anything anymore.
“I got no pills. I’ll dump ‘em in the old spot when they come in. Try not to get yourself killed ‘til then.” He turns to leave, and you feel your stomach flip. This will be the last time you see him if he comes through. The last time you spoke.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Hey— I didn’t meant that, alright? You really want to leave it like this?”
“You’re going. Probably gonna die out there. What’s the point in talking about it?” You want to yell, want to fight him on it but he wouldn’t even listen— “You’re signin’ your death sentence outside of these walls alone. Don’t blame me for not giving you the push.”
“Joel, just wait a second.” His hand stills as it moved to grab the door. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you like this. I never wanted to leave you. If you just let me—“
“You made that bed weeks ago.” He stares ahead, never letting you finish and still not turning around to look at you. Your heart freezes at the thought of him walking out that door. You want to leave— but you never wanted to do it alone. Even after weeks of silence and rough edges, you’d take any time with him over… well, anything.
“Let me unmake it. Just… please don’t walk out on me, Joel.” You take a few tentative steps, gauging the progress you’ve made. His spine straightens when your fingers dance up his back, gentle and slow. You catch the bottom of his shirt and slip under, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm and the way he sighs— as if your touch relieves him. “I hated how I went about… things. I never meant to have it turn out like this. Us ignoring each other.”
“Well, that’s what happened.” His head turns ninety degrees, eyes looking over his shoulder as you walk your fingers higher. His shoulder blades, always full of tension, relax under your hand, and you trail your other hand up to find the other, watching his eyes flutter closed as you dig your palms into the muscle there.
“I know. It was unfair of me to spring it on you that night, and I shouldn’t of said the things I did. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything, but he sighs again as you continue to manipulate his muscle. You wish he’d take his shirt off so you could do it properly, but this would do for now. “But you never let me finish— that day.”
“I heard…fuck. I heard what I needed to hear.” His head drops down, chin to his chest as you step up on your toes and massage him in slow, steady circles. You hadn’t touched him in so long, you were nearly burning with just this intimacy alone, but you had to bide your time. Coax him in slowly, like a scared lone wolf— tempt him closer with paced, quiet movements until you could get your chance.
“Let me fix it. Fix this.” You say softly, your heart slamming against your chest.
“You’re still leaving. Can’t fix that.” His voice strains, and you run your hands lower to dig into the muscle of his back.
“Yeah.” He sighs again at your answer. “And you still hate me for it.”
“Yeah.” He copies you, and you try to ignore how much the simple word affects you.
“But we still have right now.”
“What’s the— shit, that’s good.” He shuffles back into your touch. “What the point?”
“Cause I can make you feel so much better than this. Don’t you remember?” You are nearly begging, but if memory serves you right, a few ‘pleases’ seem to make him do just about anything. “This is just my hands, but my mouth… my—“
“Yeah. Yeah, I fucking remember. Think about it every night.” You run your hands up again, but this time take his shirt with you and bring it up over his head. He moves, finally, grabbing the collar and shucking it off his shoulders, letting the fabric pool at his feet in front of the door.
“Let me make it up to you. Please, Joel.” He groans when you press harder, feeling how his muscles have gone nearly placid under your touch now. “Even if it’s just tonight. If you still hate me, you can leave and not look back, but I… I can’t stand this thing we have going on. The quiet. I can’t do it. Please.”
He turns around, towering over you as a mass of unkept, wild curls and a burning need in his eyes. It makes you smile, that look in his eye— because it’s been so long since he’s looked at you with anything other than hatred. Now, he needs you. Needs what only you can give him, and even if this could be the last night of it, you couldn’t help but think it would last forever with how heavy his gaze was.
“You wanna make it up to me?” He’s tilting his head in question, watching your hands move up and down his torso in teasing strokes.
“Please, Joel.” You see it splinter, his final plank of resolve shredding and dispersing on your floor under the weight of your words. Your voice nearly cracks with desperation— you need it as badly as he does.
“Get on your knees.” You blink at him, your fingers trailing down his toned chest before nodding and obeying his command readily. Joel was always a giver— always spending hours on you and you alone, and he fucking loved it— but tonight you had all but begged him to take. Lose a little bit of that control he clings so tightly to, watch the tension loose from his shoulders as he forgets about everything but you.
You trail your lips along his lower stomach as you sink to your knees, eyes never leaving his— ones that have practically turned onyx black as he watches your path, chest rising and falling rapidly. He moves his leg before you hit the ground, and it’s not until your bare knees settle into something a little softer than hard wood floor that you realise he’s kicked his shirt under you.
Even when he acted the part of hating you— he never stopped thinking of you.
Your fingers shake as they fumble with his belt, Joel making no move to help you as you struggle with the loops. When you finally break it free, Joel’s hand reaches down and threads your hair through his fingers. His thumb trails the highest point of your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter as you involuntarily nuzzle into his touch. It’s comforting and warm, and the intimacy of him knowing how you like to be touched even on your face has your cheeks burning. You think you catch him smile at you, and then your focus snaps back to the sight right at your eye-line when you pull his boxers and jeans down in one go.
“Missed your cock, Joel. Fuck.” You are nearly mesmerised at him in front of you, words spilling out as he stands in front of you completely naked while you remain fully clothed. He groans, head rolling back as you wrap your hand around his base.
“I bet you did. Can remember how loud you used to be— I fucking loved that.” Even if the compliment is purely physical, compared to how little you’ve gotten from him it boosts your ego through the roof. You can’t wait any longer, wrapping your lips around the tip of his straining cock. “That’s it, darlin’.”
You don’t tease him, but you do start slow. Despite how much you want to suffocate on him, have him fuck out any of that hate he’s still holding so he can’t think of anything but your mouth, you know he likes it to start slow. It’s like he’s denying himself, even here, that he doesn’t deserve the instant gratification. Like he wants to suffer through it first— a little bit of pain to accompany the overwhelming pleasure that follows.
“Fuck, you’re good. Just like that.” He praises, his hand sneaking back to the nape of your neck. Not pushing, but instead gathering your hair and using his fist as a make shift ponytail. “Missed your mouth.”
“Mm?” You make a muffled noise, hoping to God he keeps telling you how much he missed any part of you. Like he dragged through the last few weeks as poorly as you did. You were already fizzling in your stomach, your thighs clenching together with every swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.
“Thought about you every day. Every— fuck. Nothin’ gets me off like you. Ha-ah, shit.” You take him to the back of your throat, gagging a little but loving every choked sound sound that stutters out of Joel’s mouth. “Had to fuck my fist thinkin’ about your pretty little face. Fuckin’ hated myself for it.”
You speed up, wanting nothing more than for him to yank you upwards and bend you over the counter, but you’ll take what you can get. The salty taste of him mixes on your tongue, and it’s always so messy giving him head, but he goes feral for it. He’s watching you now, the words punched out of his chest as you move your hand to match your mouth, and you know the tears in your eyes and strands of hair across your face just send him wild.
He says your name how you remember, with all the sweet and drawn out inflections his accent gives it. You take him deeper, indulging a low and dormant urge to please him clawing it’s way to the front of your brain. He groans again, the hand at the back of your head pressing just slightly— a sign he’s losing that last bit of self control.
“Fuck— stop, baby. Stop.” He splutters out, and you draw yourself back slowly. He keeps his hand in your hair, looking down at you possessively. His chest is moving rapidly, trying to catch his breath from where you had him so close. Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to why he didn’t let you do the one thing you really wanted to right now. Make him feel good.
“What’s wrong?” You say softly, and he hauls you upward, barely giving you time to find your footing before he surges forward and kisses you.
It nearly knocks you off your feet, the hunger behind it making you stumble a few steps to where you know the bed is. He wastes no time, tasting himself on your tongue and taking you with him down onto the mattress. He pulls your shirt off first, kissing his way down to where your hips are still covered by sweat pants.
It’s here he takes his time, watching you writhe with impatience as he slowly draws the fabric down. He kisses your hipbones as they are revealed, the gentle touches making your head spin. He was meant to hate you— meant to be fucking you hard and fast just one more time to get it out of his system, so that you felt like what you two had could end on some kind of high. You owed him that much.
But this? The way his hands were so soft and gentle— practically caressing along your sides and over your thighs. The care behind his movements, the way he looked at you… it wasn’t how you used to fuck. This wasn’t hard and dirty, not scratching an itch or quenching a thirst— this had something more behind it. You knew it, and by the way he smiled over you, he did too.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers against your skin, the rough hair on his cheeks tingling the softness of your inner thighs. He says it quietly, like you weren’t supposed to hear it, but you do, and your body floods with heat.
“Joel.” You whimper, your underwear dragging down your legs before he crawls back up your body. “Joel, I’m sorry.”
“I know, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You feel him against you, the head of his cock dragging up and down causing your hips to twitch every time. “You always get so wet from doing that, don’t you?”
“Just from you. It’s just you, Joel.” You whimper, and his face crumbles in front of you. He bends to kiss you again, the air in your lungs sucked out leaving you breathless. He’s handling you with such care— like he still does. Care.
When he pushes into you, you both sigh, Joel dropping onto his forearms caging you under him. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck— teeth dragging along your collar bone with each slow thrust.
“You always feel so good. Can’t live without this, baby.” He’s almost whining, grinding into you with so much strength you hear the bed creak with each move. He’s reaching every nerve you have, crackling each one with a searing pleasure that’s only ever associated with him.
“N-neither. Please— please, Joel.” You beg for something, anything he’d give you, and his head moves to press his forehead to yours. His hips stutter, eyes half lidded but focused on you.
“Don’t leave. I’ll… god, so good. Don’t go.” He fucks you a little harder, like he’s trying to prove a point. Trying to convince you— but he doesn’t have to.
“Come with me.” You whisper, hands threading into his hair. You tug hard, making him groan.
“Baby.” He says lowly, voice grating and strained. Every thrust of his hips hurtles you closer to release, one of his hands snaking down your body to circle your clit. You can’t talk anymore, the only noises you can make are loud moans followed by choked out versions of his name. “Fuck— fuck, I can’t last. I can’t..”
You squeeze your eyes shut, pleasure rolling over you from your fingertips to your toes, the weight of Joel’s body keeping you firmly secured on the mattress. It’s like the heavy press of his warm skin multiplies the feeling, nails digging into the flesh of his back.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and it only takes a few more strokes of Joel’s cock and he’s cumming with you, both of you clinging to each other as you try to draw out the others high. Even when you’re supposed to be fighting, each of you are doing anything and everything for each other.
Joel still feels warm above you, keeping himself inside as long as he can stand before he pulls out slowly. You whimper from the loss, but he shuts you up with a deep, desperate kiss. It’s lazy and meaningful— teeth and tongues clashing from how hard he’s pressing on top of you.
Both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but neither can find the strength to pull your mouths away from each other. You know once you do, it was meant to be over— but it couldn’t be. There wasn’t going to be a version of this story where you missed out on the only good, real thing you’ve had in a long time just because you didn’t have the guts to repeat yourself. You pull back from his mouth as hard as it is, and he groans a little in frustration of having to chase you.
“Joel…” Your hands find their way up to his face, holding him so close that your noses bump together. “I meant it. Come with me.”
“Darlin’, I gotta… Tommy needs me to find him. I…” He looks you up and down again, eyes catching on the little hickeys he’s left over your chest and neck, and you think he might be considering the possibility of leaving everything behind and just following you despite it.
But you’d never ask him to. You had this thought out— and if he’d just listened to you the first time, he would already know.
“I know. We can find him. The pills— I’m trading it for a full tank of gas for a car I repaired. It’s just outside the safe zone.” He shifts up, thighs still straddling over your waist. “We can find him, find my family.”
“You fixed a… of course you did. Fixed a fucking car right under their nose.” He shakes his head, laughing before leaning down and smothering you in a suffocating kiss. He’s still smiling when he pulls away, tucking your body into his chest. “Jesus. You’re unbelievable.”
“I would of told you.” You say, not having the nerve to look up at him. “That night— I tried to tell you. We have people that need us, but I need you, too.”
“Mm.” He says, burying his face into your hair. You can feel the smile in the way he hums, his hands grabbing at your sides and holding you closer. “Need you, too.”
“What was that?” You try to turn and look up at him, a teasing smirk on your face but he doesn’t let you. “The Joel Miller— needs me?”
“Need your car.” He grumbles and you laugh harder, your legs tangling together in a comforting knot of limbs. “When do we leave?”
“When you get the pills.” He hums again.
“Tomorrow. I’ll get ‘em tomorrow.”
“Oh, you fucking asshole. You were getting them the whole time, weren’t you?” He still refuses to let you move, strong arms keeping your bodies together. He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and nods before his breathing starts to slow.
You wanted to turn and see his face when he said that— that he needed you. But as you feel him go limp behind you, you figure you’ll get enough time to stare at his face when you drive across the state to get Tommy, and whatever comes after that. You might not know what comes next, but whatever it is, you feel a hell of a lot better knowing it’ll be with him.
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doukeshi-kun · 4 months
Note
stalker nikolai p....: proposing...,..
𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙖𝙡
featuring ⨳ stalker!nikolai gogol x fem!reader
content ⨳ general dark romance vibes lmao, reader is unconscious (you just sleeping dw), nikolai being your husband in a nikolai way :)
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It's cruel to drug you with sleeping pills, that's what Nikolai thought.
That's why he force-fed you melatonin gummies instead. From two sweet gummies to six and now you are peacefully laying your head against his chest, arm hugging him as if he is a teddy bear. Nikolai would not lie—he is freezing right now on his spot.
To have you sleep on his bed is one thing, but to have you against him, so close like this? No matter how many times he has touched you, seen you, fucked you, Nikolai would always and always get too excited.
His heart is beating so loudly, he could feel it. And he hopes that the rhythm of his heart beating to you becomes the melody that serenades you to dive deeper into the dreamland.
Maybe force-feeding you melatonin gummies, pretending it is just normal candies is a good choice. You were so good at biting the gummy off his fingers every time he offered it to you. His fingertips still remember the slightest touch of your lips and teeth.
But he wouldn't do this often, no. It's only for today, tonight, right here, in his campervan—just for a special occasion.
Nikolai needs to reach to the drawer right by his working desk, so he gently and carefully moves your head and body off him, placing his pillow beneath your head—Oh, he would surely do a nasty, nasty thing with that pillow, knowing you laid your head on it. Not now, not now. Gosh, Nikolai needs to get himself right.
He reaches down, hand instinctively opens the bottom drawer but closes it immediately when he realises he opened the wrong one—Fuck, I hope she won't smell that.
He should dispose of that human skin quickly. Tomorrow would do. He knew that the recruiter who met you had something else in mind when he invited you to a one-to-one meeting with him. Job opportunity, his ass. And that man was too dumb to arrange your meeting in a public space—all Nikolai needed was to be out of your sight range, which he considers himself to be professional about.
Anyway!
Nikolai does not want to dwell in the past. His precious love won't be bothered and he can continue with this agenda he has been thinking ever since you shot him in his thigh. He promised to himself that he would marry you if you bleed him. And you did! Nikolai could not be happier. Not to mention, this wound you did on him had marked his skin—for him, this is the proof of your love.
He reaches the second bottom drawer, finally finding what he wants. He takes the small red velvet box. This is just one of the many rings he has bought for you. But this particular is special.
He takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your ring finger. It fits perfectly. He twirls it a bit, making sure it is not too tight on your finger. He prefers if you don't take it off, but that would bring you long-term issues.
“Hmm....” you stir in your sleep, still deep in it. Nikolai cackles to himself before he lowers himself to lie next to you. He faces you, linking your hand with his. On his ring finger, there is also a similar ring.
He wishes to kiss you right now, but he wants your permission still. So he just holds your hand, staring at his wife's sleeping face with a serene smile. He brings your hand and kisses the back of it softly.
“I do,” he says. And he repeats that action to each of your knuckles.
“I do,”
“I do,”
“I do,”
“I do,”
“I do.”
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©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya
if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months
Note
can you do mike schmidt x reader with abby trick-or-treating?
NOTE: This takes place after the movie
........
"Come on, slowpokes! Keep up!"
"Abby, don't go too far!"
"Relax, Mikey. She's just going two houses over. There's other kids already there. See?" You calmly pointed out the decorated home that Abby was rushing towards, disappearing into the crowd of kids who complimented her costume.
She was dressed as her "friend": a yellow version of Freddy Fazbear complete with a mask she painted, a yellow undershirt, and a black vest that was a tad bit too big for her.
Curiously enough, she removed one ear from the mask and covered one eye with black paint. But it didn't bother either of you too much, thinking she wanted to do something unique and creative with her costume.
Considering everything that happened at Freddy's Pizzeria, you were surprised that she wanted to dress up as one of the characters at all.
Yet neither you nor Mike recall ever seeing a "Golden Freddy". Not even backstage.
But you did, however, meet a golden Bonnie...and the person wearing his suit was none other than the bastard who murdered those poor children, including Garrett.
You just hoped their souls were finally at peace now, and that William rotted away in that suit, never to be found again. It was a rather fitting punishment--the perfect karma someone as sadistic as him.
Sometime later, you started dating Mike after you both officially quit that job, found something new to save his home from eviction, and helped him regain custody over his sister (Doug was more than eager to write you both off as her legal guardians).
He still had his nightmares, of course, that now involved visions of a decayed Springbonnie suit chasing him through that same forest. But you were always there to wake him up, cuddling together and helping him fall back to sleep without needing to down a bunch of pills.
He's genuinely been trying to depend on them less and less. Abby notices it, too, and has incorporated you in her drawings now, standing beside her happy-looking brother.
It's her own way of saying "thank you", and you accept it wholeheartedly.
When Halloween rolled around, you and Mike got too work decorating the house, surprising his sister after you picked her up from school. She did mention how he used to do the "bare minimum" before you came along.
And by that, she meant that Mike only ever put a jack o'lantern outside, a bowl filled with cheap candy, and a sign that said "take one".
Well this year...you made sure to buy better candy bars for the kids this year and add the finishing touches to the outside of the house. After that, you both took her trick-or-treating.
While she was occupied at the current house, you and Mike stood back to admire all the decorations and other costumes people were wearing.
"I honestly thought that whole near-death experience with the robots would've scarred her for life, but...she's been doing better." He remarked. "A lot better. It's like nothing ever happened."
"Well..she did help those kids find justice. They never knew their killer was standing right in front of them..they just needed that little push to finally recognize him."
"I'm surprised she hasn't told the whole story to her teacher yet."
"...because she knows we'd probably get some phone calls about that." You chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand.
Then you noticed Abby leaving the house, running down the steps and about to cross the street to reunite with you-
"Hey, hey, hey." Mike let you go to put both hands out, and she stopped in her tracks, mere inches from the road. "What did we talk about before we left the house, Abs?"
"...look both ways before I cross the street?"
"Exactly."
Huffing, she quickly glanced to her left and right, deeming it safe to cross. And only then did she resume her sprint, removing her mask once she was in front of you. "[Y/n], look at all these chocolate bars I got so far!"
You looked into the pillowcase, nodding in agreement. "Wow, you did get a lot! I sure can't wait to gobble them all up when we get home." A coy smirk appeared on your lips, watching her eyes widen in shock.
"Nooooooo, they're mine!" Protectively holding the sweets to her chest, she pouted and looked to Mike for help, yet he simply shrugged.
"I dunno, Abby.." It was hard for him to hide his own smile. "[Y/n] and I gotta make sure they're safe to eat, so we're gonna take one bite of every single bar-"
"Now that's just cruel!" She stomped her foot.
"We're only joking, sweetie." With a chuckle, you ruffled her hair, watching as she put her mask back on. "I think the next street over has a little haunted house maze. Do you wanna go check it out?"
She perked up and nodded in response, heading down the sidewalk with a spring in her step. You linked arms with Mike and followed her, looking around at the rest of the decorations.
But your eyes soon lingered on your boyfriend's soft brown ones, and he gazed back at you for a few moments. "What?"
"Nothing." You shook your head, smiling lightly. "I'm just...glad to be with you."
"So am I." He kissed you on the cheek. "Thank you, truly..Abby deserves a good Halloween."
"I think we all deserve a good one."
Unbeknownst to the three of you, there was a peculiar figure standing across the way. He was hanging out near the trees, almost perfectly blending in with the surrounding darkness so that nobody else could notice him:
A large mechanical bear with dirty yellow fur, one ear, and one glowing blue eye, smiling fondly at Abby and her costume.
It's good to see that she had not forgotten.
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webslingingslasher · 29 days
Note
how would telling nerdy!peter you’re pregnant go
i feel like he would know before you do. *cleaning out my inbox*
peter's ears are ringing when you enter the kitchen. a paper bag is tucked into your arm while you juggle a water bottle and car keys. something about you has the hair raising on the back of his neck.
'are you okay?'
you blink up at him, you glance down to the groceries, nothing spilled. 'i'm okay, are you okay?'
peter pushes past that, it doesn't feel right. there's something he can't sense out and it wasn't there this morning. 'no, seriously, are you okay? do you feel okay?'
your eyebrows furrow as you set everything down. 'yeah, why?' peter watches you closely, his eyes trailing after you as you moved around the kitchen. 'i don't know. something feels off, are you sure you're okay?'
you laugh with your head in the fridge, it's cute when he's worrisome. 'i promise i'm fine!'
peter lays off, but something is different about you and he can't place it.
---
peter swears something is wrong, he's had an odd buzzing feeling that keeps him tethered to your side and reaching out every thirty minutes when you're not around him.
you kept telling him you were fine and peter thought it would even out eventually but it's been two weeks and it's gotten worse. it's gotten so bad he doesn't want you leaving his sight.
like this morning, you gagged around your toothbrush and scraped your tongue clean with your teeth, your face went sour as you looked at peter.
'that tastes rotten.' the toothpaste went bad. you have no idea how, or if it's possible, but your mouth tasted like you just gargled with orange juice and made out with a mint.
peter tried it out for himself and told you it was how it's always been, but you made him promise he'd buy a new tube anyway. he agreed but had something tugging at his stomach, this wasn't normal.
the final straw was a few days later and you approached him with your head in your hands and a wince. peter almost jumped up from the couch, his movements panicked but touch soft as he cradled your face.
'talk to me, what's wrong?'
you suck in a deep breath, it makes your pain amplify. for the first time ever, a headache as you wanting to faint into peter's chest. 'sweetheart?'
your voice cracks, it's never been this bad before in your life. 'my head really hurts, petey.' it's all you needed to say, peter kissed your forehead and started nudging you towards the bedroom.
'go lay down, i'm going to get you some advil, alright?' you nod, it's weak, it feels like your head is a thousand pounds. you feel useless while you sink into the mattress, the first thing peter does is rip the curtains closed, it's almost pitch black and you've never been more grateful.
'pills.' they're deposited into your hand. 'water.' you take a small sip, peter tilts the cup back up when you lower it, you take a larger gulp. 'down.' you follow his direction and melt into your pillow.
'close your eyes.' you do. peter presses a kiss to your forehead, another on your cheek. 'i want you to take a nap.' you can't bring yourself to open your eyes and instead pat his hand instead as a response.
peter thinks you're asleep before he's out of the room.
you think you've been down between two and three hours and you could use another four. the past week you've been as good as dead, work must have exhausted you. it would explain the sudden sore feet and urge to constantly nap.
but more than sleep is the deep pit of hunger you have. peter's cooking dinner and it woke you from a good slumber. you doubled up on lunch today and you're thinking of doing the same with dinner.
as you roll out of bed you're happy to report there's no more migraine. you repeat this to peter the second he asks how you're feeling as he's plating your dinner. 'good.'
you lick your lips at the ceramic peter sets in front of you, he sits next to you and as you grab your fork, he stops you. for a moment you think about crying.
'i need to talk to you, we need to talk.'
every bit of you shrivels up. you think you might actually start crying. 'okay.' it's as timid as you feel, peter's eyes soften immediately, he's not mad, he's just serious.
'i'm talking to you as your husband right now, not your friend. i know you feel fine, you've been telling me that for three weeks. i don't feel fine. i'm anxious over you and it's starting to tear me apart. i need you to go to the doctor's, i need them to tell me you're okay.'
you feel your heart crumble a little, you never meant to make him so upset. 'peter, i know you're worried but i promise i'm okay.' peter really doesn't want to scare you but he's unsure of how to get you to listen.
'it feels like there's something wrong with you, alright? something i can't see or diagnosis. so i need you to go to a doctor, okay?'
you've never seen peter so freaked out and his sixth sense has you a little scared because if he can sense things before you can but he can't place it, that means it has to be bad.
you nod fast, you'll do anything to bring him a peace of mind. 'okay. i'll make an appointment and you can come with me. then we can squash this together, right?'
he hates to admit it, but peter doesn't feel any better when you agree. he's going to be biting his nails and pulling his hair until you're sitting in the doctor's office with a green screen and a thumbs up.
----
'they're making me pee in a cup, peter.'
'that's normal. they're screening you.'
'because of you! they asked why i wanted an appointment and i had to tell them 'my husband has a bad feeling.' i've never pissed in a cup before and now they probably think you're poisoning me.'
'something's poisoning you.' you rest your hand on his arm, you've never seen peter so worked up. 'is it really that bad?' it has to be, the week before your appointment he refused to let you out of his sight. he wouldn't tell you anything beyond a tugging feeling in his gut.
and if you're being honest, you're not complaining. because there's something about peter that's had you clinging to him and begging for him at every waking moment because everytime he touches you, there's a whole new wave of sensation and pleasure that wasn't there before.
'i haven't slept the last three nights because i'm scared i'll wake up but you won't.'
'oh, petey. i promise i'm okay. there's been nothing wrong beyond that one headache, i promise. but look, we're at the doctors and i'll get a clean bill of health and we can have a nap when we get home?'
he doesn't seem satisfied with the answer. 'okay.' it makes you anxiously chew on your bottom lip, you're not peter, but you've known him long enough that this isn't normal. it makes your heart hurt because he's been in a panic for over a month now and you keep shrugging him off.
'i'm sorry i didn't take you seriously, peter. i'm sorry i made it get to this point, i promise you in the future i won't wait so long.' except peter doesn't know if you waited too long and there won't be a next time.
'i'm gonna go pee in this and then i'll be the next one up.'
if you thought peter was nervous before, he's now one breath away from a panic attack, shaking his knee and chewing on his thumbnail before you're back to sitting with him and then bouncing up to tug you with him the second your name is called.
----
even your doctor was slightly puzzled at your claim. you'd answered normally to every question. no sudden changes, no balance issues, no blurry vision, no stomach pains, nothing.
'sexually active?'
'yes.'
'are you using protection?'
'no. we stopped a little over a year ago.'
'date of your last period?'
you look at peter for help, he shrugs, you think back. 'i haven't gotten it this month yet. so i think last month?' she scribbles quickly, then double checks.
'headaches?' you shake your head, your husband clears his throat. you want to roll your eyes, instead you remind yourself this is for peter's sanity.
'i had one last week. that's it.'
'breast tenderness?' you cup them, nothing. 'no.'
'you did a urine sample at check in?'
'yes.'
her small chair spins when she stands, 'let me check on it. i'll be right back.' peter opens his mouth the second the door shuts behind her.
'i don't care what you say, if it comes back clean, we're getting a second opinion.' then, 'actually, i'm going to insist on a blood test.'
'peter,' he holds up his hand. 'i'm serious. there are things that your pee won't tell them, there are so many things that could be floating around your bloodstream.'
you're doing this for him. you're doing this for his peace of mind. you need to keep telling yourself that this isn't peter, this isn't normal. you trust him more than anything and if he's saying something is wrong, something's wrong.
'okay. we'll get a second opinion, or a specialist, or a blood test, or whatever you need me to do.'
that's all you needed to say, he finally somewhat relaxes, but stiffens right back up at a knock on the door. you lightly kick your feet on the bench and smile politely when the doctor reenters. there's a nod at your smile, you stop your movements, it feels serious.
this time, she doesn't sit down. this time, she has a file in her hold and only looks at you. 'so, i have your results here, but before i continue, would you like your husband to be in the room with you?'
your heart sinks and your face drops, they found something. peter was right. something was wrong. but how did you not know? how did you feel totally fine? if anything you kept telling him that you've never felt better and you've never been so energetic.
you reach for peter without thinking, he squeezes your hand tighter than you are. 'yes. i need him here.' when peter's standing next to you, the doctor looks at both of you and clears her throat.
'you're pregnant. i'd say somewhere from four to six weeks estimated by your last period date.'
you don't say a word, neither does peter.
'i'll give you two a moment alone and come back in... lets say ten minutes? then we can talk about your options moving forward.'
silence. you don't move a muscle. the door is shut and you're staring at empty space, you can hear the clock ticking on the wall behind you, peter's chest brushes your back.
'baby?'
'yeah?'
'did you hear what she said?'
'yeah.'
your eyes close at a soft kiss to your head. 'are we happy?' your heart clenches, your hand rests over your stomach and your mind starts to catch up.
'pregnant.' it's all that will come out. peter gives you another kiss, it's just as delicate as the first one. 'you are.' your hand washes over your tummy, you don't feel pregnant.
'you did this to me.' peter nudges your hand away and moves his own in the same circle, you think he's looking for the same thing. 'a little bit.' he's holding back any excitement until you make a call but you see the way his eyes are shining.
you exhale until your stomach puffs out, it's a mimic for what's to come. 'you're gonna make me look like this.' peter smiles, he likes what he's hearing.
'so are we happy?'
pregnant. pregnant. you're pregnant. you have a baby in your stomach. you have peter's baby in your stomach. you're pregnant.
you're pregnant and you're so damn happy.
in a second you're tugging at peter for a crushing hug. 'we're pregnant. we're gonna have a baby and we are so fucking happy.' you didn't think it was possible. peter's kissing where he can reach, you pull back to look at him, both of you teary eyed.
it'd been a year and you thought kids weren't in the cards. you weren't actively trying but you both agreed to stop preventing too. and each month when you got your period, you didn't mind, you loved peter and if it was just you and him for the rest of your lives you'd be more than okay with that.
but this? having a baby with the person you love most in the world? it's a token of your love, something that would be both him and you forever.
'i really hope they have your eyes.' peter shakes his head, 'no way. for their sake, i hope they get all your genes.' you feel your lower lip tremble, there's finally an explanation for all the tears you've shed over the past week.
it didn't even have to be sad. everything was accompanied by tears and this is no exception. peter doesn't care, hormonal or not, tears are tears and he's causing them. 'what did i do?' his thumbs brush under your eyes, on guard for any wetness that dare pass them.
your voice is watery when you answer, you know it's silly but holy shit, this feels serious and you'll die on this hill for whatever reason. 'i really want...' you blink, big drops are caught in a second.
'i really want them to have your eyes and you don't want that.' peter moves fast and you exhale a shaky sob into his chest. peter is in the process of damage control recon.
'i was making a joke, honey. a really bad, terrible joke. i'm so so glad you want them to have my eyes, i'm super honored, sweetheart. of course i'd love it if they did.'
you sniff into his shirt, 'do you mean it?' there's a sprinkling of kisses over your hairline. 'of course. you want our baby to look like me, how could i be offended?'
it's enough to have you relaxing, you wipe your own eyes clear before clearing your throat and scooting away from peter. 'i'm sorry, i don't know why that was so important to me. i think you'll have to deal with this a lot.' you feel shy, all of a sudden you think you're asking for too much.
'i'm gonna be so annoying peter. i'm gonna cry and puke and hate things one second and love them the next, i'll get grouchy and miserable and sore and by the time i go to pop this kid out you'll hate me.'
'hey, shhh, you're doing that thing where you think too far ahead. one problem at a time, right? crying isn't an issue, we've been together long enough i know how to navigate that. puke? um, babe, i hate to remind you, but this little gold band on my finger tells me in sickness and in health.'
you feel your pout slowly lift up, he always has an answer.
'as long as it's not me you're hating, i'll manage. i've dealt with your grouchy mornings for years, and i still look forward to every one. if you're miserable and sore, i'll give you a massage. and by the time you pop that kid out, i'll be so damn excited to have them meet my favorite person ever. my wife.'
peter releases a quick breath. 'how'd i do?' you chose the right person to do this with. you really did.
'i'm so excited to do this with you.' your husband beams, he made you feel better, you're worrying over nothing. peter has this handled.
'i am too. we need to get you some vitamins and i should start emptying out the second bedroom. we should also look into some books and maybe some classes, may said my mom took lamaze classes and it saved her during labor.'
'and a doctor! we need to schedule with your OBGYN, and i need to clean out the fridge. i don't think you can eat deli meat, maybe i'll start looking at some-'
'peter, we're having a baby.'
it stops him from his tirade, he hasn't been able to stop smiling. 'we are.'
'and you were right, something was wrong! you're like one of those cancer sniffer-outer- dogs.' peter tilts his hand back and forth. 'i mean, that's not cancer,' a point to your soon-to-be bump. 'and i'm not a dog, but i know when something isn't normal.'
'do you think you sniffed it out the second you knocked me up?' peter holds a straight face, you bite back a grin and whisper out to him.
'peter?'
'yeah?' he's just as quiet.
'we're having a baby.'
peter can't stop his coos, your face cradled in his hands while he presses tiny kisses over your cheeks. you don't feel as robbed from a home test, you always figured you'd have the moment where you're in the bathroom with shaky hands but instead you're in a doctor's office and you realize the setting doesn't matter, it's the person you're doing it with.
the celebration halts when there's another knock on the door, when the doctor sees the blinding smile on both your faces she shares her own. 'i assume this is good news then?'
you both answer at the same time. 'really good.'
she looks even happier and gently bows before taking a seat and grabbing a few squirts of hand sanitizer. 'then let me be the first to congratulate the both of you.' you both say thank you and your heart elevates ten levels when she addresses you as what you're about to be.
'so, mom, i assume you have an OB established?'
mom. mom. mom. you're going to be a mom. your head spaces while you nod, your doctor seems relieved at the answer. 'great. i want you to reach out and schedule an appointment, they'll be able to tell you a little bit more about what to expect and the next steps. depending on how far along you are, you and dad might be able to hear some heart tones. in the meantime, i recommend you get on some prenatals and limit your caffeine intake.'
mom and dad. you think you like the sound of it.
'any questions?' peter looks at you, then the wall. he's got one but he's scared to ask, your doctor senses this. 'dad? the floor is open to you, too.' you fawn at his pink cheeks, he loves the new name like you do.
'um, are there... limitations on what she can do? physically?'
a small grin, she knows what he's asking. 'honestly, mom should keep doing her day to day like normal, things will start to get hard when she gets bigger. if you're asking if there's any limitations on sex, no, it's just all based on mom's comfort.'
'mom's been very comfortable.' you speak from the corner of your mouth but she hears you and she's got a gleam in her eye. 'those extra hormones can be fun. any more questions?'
you're sure you'll have a thousand but right now all you want to do is lay in peter's arms and talk about who your baby will eventually be. you shake your head, peter says no for the both of you.
your doctor stands and warmly grabs your hand, then peter's and smiles once more. 'again, i congratulate you both. you're in for some of the best times in your life, and some of the hardest, but i promise you, that smile on your baby's face at six in the morning while you're exhausted will make it all seem worth it.'
carrying peter's child already makes it all worth it. he would've been as happy and content as you would've without kids, but you know how much he's always wanted them and this feels like the most ultimate act of love you could give him.
'thank you. we're really excited.' because you are. you both are.
---
the second peter opens the car door for you, you squeal and hold him close to you. 'you're gonna be a frickin dad. that's so hot.' you giggle at tender pokes at your side. 'you said the same thing when i proposed.'
'commitment makes you sexy, parker.'
'ditto, mrs. parker.'
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