#I like things like this because they give me prompts to build off of

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic Prompt #18: Snow Day

Maevlander, 2.5K, rated T. AO3 link.

Jan 23 2016

“I just don’t really understand,” Homelander grumbles, pacing back and forth in front of the large glass wall in Maeve's apartment, periodically stopping and looking out the window.

“Which part don’t you understand,” Maeve asks wearily, not looking like she really wants an answer, still in pajamas, still lounging in bed vaping as she stares blankly at the TV screen mounted on the wall with the news on silent, the red ticker-tape at the bottom listing school and university closings in New York and New Jersey. “It’s a city-wide travel ban. Vought headquarters had to close for business today and tomorrow. I’m sure some people came in anyway.”

“I don’t remember New York City shutting down because of a little snow in recent years. Don’t we pride ourselves on infrastructure? Don’t tell me they can’t clear the roadways. And come on, Vought should be one of the last places to shut down because of a little weather!”

“John, it’s literally the weekend. And there’s like three feet of snow on the ground.”

“They said 29 inches.”

“Well however much it is, it’s enough for them to declare an emergency.”

Homelander leans his forehead against the glass staring down. “If it’s really so dangerous, why is Central Park full of people sledding?”

Maeve cocks her head. “You really don’t know what to do with yourself on a day off, huh.”

“Nooo...” Homelander drags out the word, trying to be patronizing but Maeve is unfazed. “I’m just saying. I could clear the roads in an hour all by myself if the mayor or governor thought to ask.”

“I’m sure you could.” Maeve rolls her eyes.

“What, you don’t think so? I could melt Manhattan in a fifteen minute flyby.”

“Yeah, people will be delighted to see you light every street on fire.”

“I wouldn’t be setting anything on fire.” Homelander sounds defensive and it makes Maeve smile.

“Nobody asked you to melt anything,” Maeve says, groaning. “Why can’t you just give things a rest and let people enjoy a snow day?”

“Because it’s dangerous! Ambulances can’t get through. Just because there’s a snow day you think people stop having heart attacks?”

“I never knew you were so concerned about people not being able to get to the hospital. Maybe you should go on runs for the hospitals yourself then. Airlift the people having heart attacks.”

Homelander makes a scoffing sound, still staring intently out the large wall-window, the poor people who dared to go sledding on a Saturday not knowing that they were being scrutinized and judged from 90 floors up and 10 blocks away.

“So saving people is beneath you, but standing there bitching about how few people came into work today isn’t? You can really tell you never got to experience a snow day in childhood, Mr. Grinch.” 

Homelander turns toward her sharply at the last part. Maeve wonders if she’s gone too far now that his gaze has been torn away from the rabble on the ground and directed at her. It's never a good idea to bring up his childhood. But he cracks a smile instead of getting angry at her bluntness and walks over to the bed, sweeping his cape off to the side before sitting down.

“Fine, Maeve, enlighten me. Tell me what makes snow days so fucking magical.” The sarcasm in his tone is off the charts, but his gloves are off and Maeve has learned to recognize that that’s a sign that he wants intimacy, no matter what he says or how it sounds. She cautiously slides her hand into his and she can see an endearing uncertainty and neediness flicker across his face, his expression settling into something softer.

“It’s nothing complicated. You’d wake up in the morning and pray for the robocall to your parents’ landline to tell them school was out. And if you were lucky enough to have a snow day, you had the entire day free to play in the snow.”

“Like, what, build snowmen?”

Maeve smiles at the defensiveness of his tone. He’s so intent on proving to her that he didn't miss out on anything important. 

“When you’re little, yeah. Snowball fights, snowmen, snowforts. When I was a bit older, my dad would take me skiing sometimes.”

“Is skiing fun?” Homelander asks, looking away from her and staring off into a corner of the room, but still holding her hand.

“Yeah. I haven’t done it in a while. But when I was seven, I got my own skis and everything. It’s cheap thrills for a kid, I suppose. You can speed up like all hell if you go down a steep enough slope."

“Would you like to go skiing?” Homelander asks, and despite some misgivings Maeve realizes that she would like to. She relents and says yes. Anything has to be better than being cooped up in the Tower having an argument in her apartment about why people have no work ethic.

Homelander seems to brighten right up when she asks to go. Maybe Maeve underestimates how lonely and lost he feels without a daily agenda, without a script telling him where to be and what to do for most of the day. She's saved him from unstructured time.

“You’re going in that?” Homelander asks, wrinkling his nose slightly at the civilian winter clothes she's changing into.

“You don’t really expect me to ski in my skimpy uniform, do you?”

Homelander shrugs. “I’m just going as I am.”

“Yeah, you won’t be the only douchebag on the slopes wearing spandex, so you might as well.” Maeve looks him over. “You don’t think you can leave the cape at home?”

Homelander gives her a look that says she must be crazy to suggest that.

He flies her in his arms all the way to New Hampshire, where there’s plenty of snow but no blizzard going on, and where the slopes turn out to be more crowded than either of them would probably like.

They have to rent skis of course. Maeve is about to pay for both of them but the employees frantically shake their heads, and assure her it's on the house and that it’s such an honor that she and Homelander have decided to grace their humble ski resort with their presence. Maeve is pretty sure they wouldn’t have recognized her had her partner in crime been wearing anything slightly less conspicuous than full regalia.

Homelander looks skeptical when he’s asked to try on ski boots. As if the boots he came in with are any less of a fashion faux pas, Maeve smiles to herself. The poor teenager helping them starts to visibly sweat when Homelander waves him off dismissively after he offers them helmets. The staff are starstruck and ask for selfies with the two heroes, and a picture of the two of them to hang up on the bulleting board. Homelander and Maeve indulge them for a few minutes before finally heading outside with skis and poles in hand.

“Why are these boots so awkward?” Homelander asks as he follows her out of the lodge and into the snow.

“Because they’re not for walking,” Maeve grumbles. Homelander watches and mimics her as she puts the skis on. She should be grateful that he’s humoring any of this at all. Even if she’s wondering whether she’d enjoy this outing a lot more alone, there is something entertaining about seeing Homelander navigating mundane everyday life with none of his usual self-assurance.

She leads him to the ski lift, the people in line behind them clearly debating whether these were real celebrities or just really good cosplay. Homelander ends up signing a few autographs before Maeve tugs him forward to get in position for the lift.

“So this is just to bring people up the mountain?” he questions, looking around and swinging his skis like a bored kid. And maybe that’s what he is, Maeve thinks.

“Yeah,” she says. As they ski down the small ramp at the top of the lift, Homelander is clearly just taking his cues from her. Maeve hasn’t done this in so long that she hesitates and turns toward the intermediate difficulty slope. Homelander simply follows. He glides with relative ease for someone who’s never been on skis before. Then again, Maeve realizes that he’s not really skiing. As they head down the slope, she decide to stop abruptly. He glides down a little bit past her before halting and skiing himself backwards up the slope to stand in parallel with her.

Maeve smirks. Just as she thought. “Quit being creepy.”

“What?” he asks, and seems genuinely confused.

“What you’re doing isn’t skiing. Stop hovering and put your full weight on the snow.”

Homelander shrugs and visibly settles himself deeper into the snow’s surface.

“Skiing is about getting momentum from sliding down the mountain on two thin pieces of wood, not flying around pretending to ski.”

Maeve expects him to roll his eyes or get defensive and snarky. But Homelander just stares at her and even nods slightly as if she’s some guru dropping knowledge on him.

“You pivot and turn abruptly to stop. You can use your poles to help push off and change direction.” He’ll get annoyed at being tutored at some point, right?

But Homelander still nods. And before Maeve can push off herself, he starts down the slope, looking much less smooth this time, apparently testing things out, trying to do it by her rules. She still suspects he’s using his powers when he stops and looks back at her as if to ask ‘did I do it right this time?’ She skis down to join him.

“Yeah just like that. You’re getting the hang of it.”

They finish the run and get back on the lift, more and more of the crowd at the bottom wisening up to the fact that they’ve got a celebrity among them, but Homelander signs fewer autographs this time before getting on the lift again.

Maeve's getting strangely emotional, sitting here, legs dangling far above the treetops, feeling like she’s gone back in time, almost forgetting who this is. Homelander isn’t her dad. They’re nothing alike, even if she hates both of them. And yet, sitting here in the lift chair takes her back to the times she misses so much, before her dad impressed upon her that becoming part of a Vought-sponsored team should be her goal in life.

“Sorry, I know the lift must be boring when you can just ski up the mountain,” Maeve says. She doesn’t know why she’s apologizing.

Homelander shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I like sitting here with you.”

When he wraps his arm around her, Maeve can’t believe she starts crying. Homelander looks confused and retracts his arm.

“Did- did I hurt you?” he asks, and there’s not an ounce of disdain in his voice, only worry.

“No, it’s nothing,” Maeve says, laughing it off and furiously wiping the tears away. “I just remembered the last time I went skiing with my dad. We never really got along. But I did like to go skiing with him.”

Homelander looks at her, and– even though he can’t possibly understand how she feels– uncannily enough manages to look sympathetic, and she doesn’t even flinch when he wraps his arm around her again, squeezing her closer.

The moment is only ruined by a wolf whistle from the chair behind them.

Homelander’s head starts swiveling back but Maeve pushes his chin back so he keeps facing her. She doesn’t even mind when he takes that as a prompt to start kissing. It’s gentle and feels maudlin– the way he prefers it and she doesn’t. When he’s like this, she can almost forget how violently possessive he gets over her, can almost forget how Vought forced her to hide her sexual past and pretend Elena doesn’t exist. Can almost forget how she was forced into a relationship with him– first a PR one for the ratings, then a “real” one, still for the ratings. Can almost forget that Madelyn Stilwell volunteered all sorts of tips about how to navigate his capricious mood swings and exploit some of his strange vulnerabilities, which made Maeve wonder what sort of relationship they had and may still be carrying on. No, she won’t think about any of that while they’re sitting on this ski lift together, the air cool and crisp around them, his skis overlapping with hers.

She decides to go down the black diamond side this time. People gawk. Maeve feels invigorated, brave, fulfilled, and heads over the bumps so fast that she does end falling into the snow ungracefully. Homelander skis up beside her, looking concerned even though she gets up laughing, wiping snow from her face and hair with the back of her gloved hand.

“You okay there?” he asks, clearly not worried that she hurt herself, but maybe a little worried at other skiers witnessing this. There is someone who stopped further up the slope and whipped out his phone, probably filming all this.

“Yeah. Falling’s part of the fun,” she says. “You should try it sometime.”

“No thanks,” he bites off tersely.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get that cape wet,” she mumbles under her breath as she starts heading down the slope again. She knows he heard her, no matter how quietly she said it.

They keep skiing even after sundown, just like she used to do when she was a child, not bothering to take a break for a meal. Truthfully, she has no interest in walking into the lodge cafeteria and creating a commotion of people wanting selfies and autographs. Homelander is just taking her cues, following her around like a puppy the entire time. He doesn’t deign to fall over, not even for her sake, but he takes the lift up each time, never insisting on being an asshole and skiing up the slope or flying to show off. She suspects sitting on the lift with her is actually his favorite part of this whole escapade leaving Vought Tower for the day.

“Still bitter about the snow day?” she asks playfully on one of their more silent trips on the lift when he seems lost in thought.

He’s staring off into the distance with a strange look on his face, then seems to look down and study his skis. “I did have snow days as a child,” he says. “They just weren’t very fun.”

She tenses a little bit. When Homelander reminisces about his childhood it’s often the death knell of any fun, normal interaction between them, and a turn toward a morose angry mood. But he looks calm. 

“When there was a snow emergency, only a skeleton crew would come to work in the lab. Nobody interacted with me. Most of the scientists would stay home. The whole building was much quieter than usual. They never did experiments on me on those days, I guess, but it wasn’t a good tradeoff. I’d sit there listening to the snow landing on the roof of the building, without really knowing what it was. I’d only seen it in pictures and movies. I didn’t even imagine that it’s something wet.”

Maeve feels herself shudder and quickly pretends it’s because she’s cold, prompting Homelander to hug her in closer. He even wraps his cape around her, and she knows he hardly ever uses that for anything so utilitarian. She’s not going to let him know she shudders whenever she hears yet another tidbit about his lab days and realizes anew that the way he was raised means he can never be a balanced, pleasant person, and that it’s a miracle that he can mimic people enough to blend in. Vought have managed to raise an alien creature on earth.

Homelander leans his head in even closer and whispers “Can we have sex tonight? When we get back?” in a wheedling tone, and she nods automatically without even thinking, terrified of him and at the same time full of pity.

A smile spreads wide on his face and he releases her from the embrace as they near the top of the lift and prepare to ski off.

A/N: This blizzard was a real thing :)

#cozy corner domaystic #maevlander #queen maeve #homelander #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #fic

[thriftingfreak]

Nothing Lasts Forever

Pairing: Luke Castellan x female ares!reader

Summary: Some moments in time where Luke and you can’t seem to figure out how you feel about one another. Part 1??? Maybe more if y’all like it!

Warnings: Yearning. Pretty much a yearning page at this point. Also a lot of background building. My bad yall. This is so long i’m sorry _____________________________________

the very first night

The day you rolled into camp is a day that will go down in infamy.

At least, for Luke it would.

There was no day he would ever remember more clearly.

The sun rose among the clouds beating down upon the plethora of kids and teenagers. He could remember helping some of the younger Demeter and Dionysus kids in the fields with their different crops ranging from strawberries to the beloved camp grapes. Luke wasn’t the biggest fan of grapes himself but he never turned down one from a Dionysus kid.

“Yes, those look perfect Courtney” A grin spread wide across his face as he watched the girl pluck a perfectly ripe strawberry from the plant. If anyone knew how to grow good fruit, it was a Demeter kid.

As he stood up, he brushed his khaki shorts clear of dirt. A flash of a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye. As he turned around, he came eye to eye with a very bewildered face.

“Where am I?” You muttered out. You bent over, placing your hands on your knees. He could tell that you had been running from something terrifying enough to prompt the expression.

“Camp Half-Blood” was all Luke could muster up.

“What?” Oh, this poor girl had no idea how her life was about to change.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking you up and down. Your jean shorts were slashed and your right elbow looked like it had been burned.

You looked up after catching your breath, you shook your head. It was a dumb question, because anyone could see you clearly weren’t doing too great. To this day Luke still felt embarrassment from it.

But even with your confusion and aloofness, you followed him to the infirmary and get the cuts and gashes cleaned up.

Your feet dragged along the path, a couple feet behind him. When Luke turned around, your eyes were pointed toward the ground to the mud stained tennis shoes.

He wanted to explain Camp Half-Blood and every single thing that came with it, the good and the bad. Although now definitely wasn’t the best time. He was afraid you would burst into tears or worse, start hitting him. Luke learned that some of the campers react in that manor, the hard way. Thoughts rattled his brain trying to figure out the best decision.

“Why are you staring at me? Never seen a girl been chased by a big ass bear before?” you snipped at him. At least she wasn’t crying, he thought.

“Uh, actually I have” Luke smiled at you, hoping you would appreciate the sentiment.

You did not. A scowl festered on your face. Maybe from all this anger you’d end up being an Ares kid.

This thought process would prove him to be correct.

Entering the infirmary, he guided you over to a room with several beds. Collapsing on one of them, you shoved your shoes off. You brought your knees to your chest, staring at the ceiling. It was difficult to comprehend the sudden and profound change in your life. Luke knew the feeling all too well.

Luke sat down in the chair across from you. He watched you, almost with care. You seemed to notice though because you immediately sat up.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on here?” He noticed the sudden quietness in your voice.

Taking a deep breath Luke started the same speech he gave every new camper, with some exceptions. He left out minor details usually directed toward young campers. You clearly weren’t young, at least 16 or 17. Pretty old for a new camper but hey, Luke didn’t discriminate. A part of him didn’t want to scare you away with all of the knew information, leading to little white lies.

“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow morning of camp but I think you should just rest up for now” Luke stood up, walking toward the door. As much as he wanted to stay, he knew the Apollo kids had to do their job.

“Oh by the way” He turned around to face you, “I’m Luke.”

You gave him a curt nod before shutting the door in his face. __________________________________________

a place in this world

It took a couple of months but it finally seemed like you were settling in. Even though your mom had told you about the Gods and Goddesses and how your father was a God, you didn’t have the heart to believe her. That was, until a hairy brown creature was chasing after you.

For the first time in weeks you noticed you didn’t wake up with a heavy heart, missing home.

Someone else noticed it too.

Luke, very slowly, had built up your trust. He really was a good guy, even though he annoyed the piss out of you at first. Countless lonely nights in the Hermes cabin had been made better by him. He would listen to you complain about everything and cry over missing your mom.

That was until an intense game of flag football concluded in being claimed.

After Chris had thrown the ball to some poor Athena kid, you chased after him. Yanking the strap around his waist so hard it sent him flying into the ground. When the ball launched up in the air, you had caught it, sprinting so hard you thought you were going to throw up. In the end, it didn’t end up counting as a point for your team, to your disappointment. Although when a red holographic boar appeared over your head, peace finally seemed to settle in your heart.

The Athena kid did end up in the infirmary after the game but in your defense no one had explained the rules of flag football to you.

On the other hand being claimed meant moving out of the Hermes cabin. In some ways, this was an upside. No more blue dye in your shampoo or whip cream on your face. You wouldn’t feel like you wanted to drown the Stoll brother.

The one who was affected by your claiming the most though was no other than Luke. So many warm nights of your body heat radiating off of his own were no longer. He couldn’t reach out to you in the dark anymore. Now it’s for the better, he thought.

Even with these bubbling feelings, he couldn’t force himself to come to terms with them. They would sit in the back of his throat, burning and itching. But maybe the pain was worth it.

That night he helped you pack your things up to move in with your newfound siblings.

“I wonder why it took so long to get claimed” You wondered out loud, shoving your childhood teddy bear into your backpack.

“The Gods do everything on their own time” Luke’s face fell into a solemn stare. You knew it was a touchy subject for him, specifically his own father. Ares may not have been the best shoulder to lean on but in his own ways he still managed to beat out Hermes by a mile.

Doing your best to shake his mind from it you said, “Did you see Bryce though? I really didn’t mean to yank him so hard” You smiled at Luke and in return you were granted the smallest laugh.

The next morning, you were itching to hang out with your friends (and distance yourself a tad from your brand new siblings). It was a group Luke got along with, but didn’t care much for. Gods knows why. Of course, however, your new found sister Clarisse remained a part of the friend group and Luke never really liked her. She was soft with you and some of your other siblings but rarely anyone else.

The rocky path crumbled under your shoes as you made your way to dinner. You swung your water bottle around your hands before spotting a warm and familiar face.

“Hey Poppy” a smile broached your face. You linked arms with the daughter of Athena. Even though you loved your friendship with Luke, Poppy was your number one. She had only been here for a month before your arrival, causing a very tight knitted bond between the two of you.

“How was the first night in the Ares cabin?” Sharing a look, you both knew the answer. You shrugged. There wasn’t much to share. Your brothers and sisters didn’t seem to hold their rage as well as you thought they might. Arguments ended in screaming matches. Or a dagger being thrown.

“Listen, I’m hot-headed but they really take it to the next level” You both giggled.

Right before you stepped up to the pavilion, Poppy unhooked your arms, turning to face you. “Are you sitting with us today or,” she paused and in air quotes she said “Lukie Pookie?”

Ah yes, the nickname everyone around camp designated upon him. You knew Poppy meant no harm by it but even just by the mention of him, it felt like a pillow smashed your stomach.

Brushing it off you quickly looked around for him, “I was planning on sitting with you guys and I don’t even think he’s here yet.”

Poppy raised an eyebrow and pointed to the curly haired boy across the pavilion. Shrugging once more, you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the opposite side of the benches.

Your friends, a cluster of kids from different cabin, were gathered in their usual spot. Before you could even sit down, someone called out your name. Whipping around, it seemed as if the curly haired boy teleported.

“Speak of the devil” Poppy muttered. You lightly smacked her shoulder.

“Hey” A soft smile graced Luke’s lips, “Mind if I sit?”

Interesting.

His eyes lingered in yours for a moment before you shook yourself out of it.

“Of course!” You patted the spot next to you. You mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to the group, just incase.

A flash of hesitation crossed his eyes but he plopped down anyway.

“Mhm! I’ve been meaning to ask you Luke” your friend Ben started “I was wondering if you could help me with my swordsmanship?”

Luke nodded quickly before turning to face you. It was the signal that he wasn’t interested in the conversation. Although you knew Ben would pry about it later as Ben was also a child of Hermes.

But he didn’t see things in the way you did. Instead Luke focused on how your hair fell in front of your eyes. It took everything he had in him to not move it. Others around him could talk and talk and talk but he was only ever focused on you. Over and over again he chose you. But what were best friends for, right? __________________________________________

snow on the beach

The sound of footsteps against a shallow pier never particularly bothered Luke. That was if they weren’t disturbing his peace.

The humming of the trees blowing in the wind, soothed his mind over. His eyes followed the way the fish swam with air bubbles peeking over the surface.

Watching the water helped slow everything down. His particularly dense relationship with his father was starting to wear down on him. Luke knew how even the scar on his face didn’t do his hatred justice.

Too clouded by his thoughts, he didn’t notice a familiar giggle breezing behind him.

You placed your fingers over Luke’s eyes and he immediately reached up to touch your hands.

He turned around and peered up, meeting your gaze. Luke’s breathe slowed when he met your eyes. There was a mutual sense of warmth between the two of you. Shared between little moments of laughter and light. And just by looking up at you, he knew he was in a little too deep.

Luke could, of course, fess up. But even the thought of that made him want to hurl his cookies. It’s not like he wanted these feelings and trust, he’s tried to get rid of them. They were more painful than awkward. The flutter in his stomach when you stood just a little to close to him. The way he caught his breath anytime you looked up at him and smiled. Or the shakiness in his throat and on his tongue whenever you quipped a snarky comment.

He quickly stood up reveling how he towered over you so easily.

His eyes glanced down to your hands which had been pulling something out of your jean pocket. A small string bracelet was cupped between your hands.

He snatched it from you, looking it over. It was covered in red and blue zig zags. His favorite colors.

“Hey” you whined, “I worked hard on that.”

A grin broke out on his face, “Is it for me?”

You frowned, “Well it was supposed to be but since you don’t seem to have much patience, I’ll be taking it right back!”

Before you could seize the gift back, Luke’s arm shot up in the air, holding the bracelet overhead. It was a trick he pulled on you plenty of times. Of course it did nothing but annoy you yet that was the fun of it.

Many could not dupe a child of Hermes. Even so, if there is one thing you inherited from your father it was the fight response in oppose to flight.

Your hands wrapped around the front of Luke’s orange t shirt, bunching it into a fist. Swiftly you yanked him back just enough before you efficiently shoved him backwards.

In the blink of an eye, he performed a large flop into the lake. Although the water that had skyrocketed upwards, dunked you clean with water. Worth it.

Now soaking wet, his mane of dark curly hair, bobbed up and down in the water.

“Not cool” He sputtered out. He pulled his upper body on the dock, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You sighed, knowing what was about to happen. In order to escape future prank endeavors, you had to let him do it.

Before you knew it, you were handing over your right to dry clothes.

Head hitting the water first, you tumbled off the deck. Your entire body, including the dry clothes, plunged into the inhospitable water. How on earth could fish swim in water this cold?

As soon as you breached the water, Luke shoved your head down. Well played.

“Was that necessary?” you groaned, water stuck in your ears and nose. Luckily it was pretty shallow otherwise you would have been way more upset.

“I have bad news” Luke paused, running a hand through his hair, “I think I lost your bracelet” He hesitantly waited for the backlash he was about to receive.

As soon as your mouth started to curl into a frown he knew it was over.

You dove headfirst into Luke. He tumbled back and you pushed him so far under he hit the sand. Although it wasn’t that deep, he managed to grab onto you, pulling you underwater with him.

Your laugh threw bubbles all around. His brown eyes shot open. For a minute he seemed like he was searching yours for something.

In just a couple of moments, it felt like the world stopped moving. You could feel the air in your lungs start to sting. Maybe it was time to resurface.

You mentally clocked all of the seconds you could spend underwater without passing out.

But when Luke smiled, all of your thoughts went muddy. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up.

You gasped for air, feeling the sharpness. It quickened when you realized Luke’s shirt cling to his body.

Look away look away look away look away.

A hint of rose rushed to your cheeks. You cursed yourself for thinking anything different.

After you two had burned every ounce of energy you had, you found yourself laying on the deck, eyes closed.

You could hear Luke breathe as his chest fell up and down.

The sun started to set in the distance, and the buzz of grasshoppers with Luke laying next to you is all you needed.

It’s all you ever wanted.

Almost as if he read your mind, Luke mumbled “I could lay here for hours.”

You hummed in response, simply glad he appreciated the sentiment as much as you did.

Something tickled your cheek with its moisture. You opened your eyes to find small snowflakes falling from the clouds. Snow, specifically snow at Camp Half Blood was rare.

It was weird, but it was fucking beautiful.

It crossed your mind that maybe it was Zeus’s doing, a little reward. You were reminded that even though the Gods had failed you time after time, there were small moments where none of it seemed to matter.

Like laying next to the boy who pulled at your heart strings when snow fell.

You glanced at Luke and caught a glimpse of his smile. The way his lips tugged at each other, you knew he felt the exact same way. It was provoking the way you both knew the ins and outs of one another.

In the back of your mind, you knew the snow wouldn’t last long as it was the start of summer. But oh how you enjoyed it so.

As some would say, nothing lasts forever.

———————————————————————

Authors note: I definitely meant to put this out sooner however I have been booked and busy! Now that it’s summer, I should definitely have more time to write because I love writing this stuff. Lemme know if you guys want more pieces in time of Luke and reader! Also if you have any requests or recommendations send them in!!!!

-Bee

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #luke castellan x ares reader #percy jackon and the olympians

[fuzzydreamin]

OC Interview

Got tagged by @krokaxe @bokatan and @leavingautumn13 I've already done this for Nora and Al, but I figured I'd do it for some of my other characters... So, Nate and Jack below.

Name: Nate Sosu Nickname/Alias: Charmer (Railroad) Gender: (slightly GNC but mostly in private) Cis man (he/him) Star sign: Aquarius (February 18, 2045) Height: 6’0” Orientation: Bi + poly Nationality: American (white) Favourite fruit: Cherries and Pineapple Favourite season: Summer Favourite flower: Dandelions Favourite scent: Grass Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Coffee Average hours of sleep: Not enough. He has trouble sleeping due to PTSD. Dog or cat person: Dog person, because he loves to play with them. Dream trip: Nate's the kind of person who cares less for a location specifically but more for who he is with while visiting. He'd love to go just about anywhere if he could do it with someone he cared for. He probably would have dragged the family to Nuka World when Shaun was big enough to enjoy it. Number of blankets they’d choose to sleep with: One or two, depending on how cold it is. Random fact: Considering he went right from school into the army, this man had no idea what he'd do for an actual job. Probably would have looked into mechanics. He knew he'd love to coach little league, though.

Name: Jack (No last name yet) Nickname/Alias: He doesn't have any unique nicknames or code names (yet?). Gender: Cis man (he/him) Star sign: Taurus (1st May, 2058) Height: I dunno exactly yet, but he's quite a big boy. Over 6ft for sure. Orientation: Gay Nationality: American (white) Favourite fruit: Cranberries and Blackberries Favourite season: Winter Favourite flower: The kind that grow on melon and gourd plants. Favourite scent: Petrichor Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Tea Average hours of sleep: 6-9 hours, depending on the time of year and if he needs to get up earlier to feed his chickens or something. He'd happily sleep in more if he could. Probably the best sleeper of my OC's. Dog or cat person: Either. He can't own a dog though, so I guess it defaults to cat person. Dream trip: Jack travelled all over every corner of Appalachia a lot during the years after getting out of vault 76, and doesn't have much incentive to want to go anywhere else, since he had so little life experience before going in and so much to do after getting out. He doesn't really think about travel on a wider scale. He also can't be sure how people would react to his unique mutations, so he feels safer sticking close to home just for that alone. If you asked he'd probably say something simple and sappy like hiking up to a high, nature filled point to watch the sunrise or some shit with a very unenthused Beckett. Number of blankets they’d choose to sleep with: One. He generates a lot of body heat so he's all good on that front, and his house tends to be pretty cozy. Random fact: He came from a large family, and several of them did survive past the bombs. Still figuring out if he ever actually meets any of them again though.

#fuzzy.post #fuzzy.oc #oc: nate sosu #oc: jack #this one took a minute because I had to figure out some of the answers lol #the random facts ones always get me... #I like things like this because they give me prompts to build off of #so the ones that are essentially “come up with ANYTHING right now” make me draw a blank lol

[s0dium]

Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete,  douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers,  teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around  doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted,  filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader

[joonipertree]

Sugar Daddy Boxer! Bakugo Katsuki x college student gn!reader

Tags: Age gap! Bakugo is 27, reader is 22. fluff, protective bakugo, attentive bakugo, he's a boxer because I said so <3

Bro i finished this with my wrist bandaged up. The things I'd do for my anime men.

Pt 2. Pt 3

Feel free to send in requests/prompts for this AU!

"Babydoll."

....

"Babydoll."

You finally hummed, unwrapping the woollen scarf that pillowed your face. It did an amazing job to keep you warm in the cold abyss of the early morning winter but was useless in your boyfriend's heated sports car.

You let yourself unfurl, letting the warmth melt you.

"Did you sleep properly?"

"Yeah." you said with a yawn, ready to turn your brain off again.

"I'm gonna ask you how many hours and you're telling me the truth."

You made eye contact with Katsuki, who still hadn't left the front of your building mind you, and reached out for your morning kisses.

"First, answer then kisses."

You whined and squirmed before huffing into stillness when you realised he was too mean to give into you.

"Six hours."

Katsuki's already furrowed eyebrows furrowed even more but he leaned forward to kiss your puckered lips. They were warm and firm and tasted like strawberry chapstick. And the hint of your cologne wafted through you, making you sigh into him.

Katsuki tugged your lower lip into his mouth, suckling on it before letting go and kissing the corner of your lips.

"We agreed on eight, baby."

"I was doing my homework, silly."

"Was this before or after your fanfiction reading time?"

You grinned, pawing at his chest as you leaned in for another chaste kiss.

"Look at you learning, old man. It was before."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, squeezing your thigh with his rough hand before finally deciding to start the car.

"Where do you wanna get breakfast from? You're not getting a coffee, by the way."

"Excuse m---"

"Nuh uh, little one." Katsuki looked at you with an eyebrow raise. "You didn't sleep as much as you should've and it already makes you jittery."

You crossed your arms and huffed, burying yourself deeper into the leather. And you knew that you'd just say something stupid and get yourself in even more trouble, so your mouth stayed shut. Katsuki didn't bother asking again, already knowing that there was a chocolate croissant and Acai bowl that had you hooked.

He made his way into the store quickly, your body not ready to get out to the fanged monster that the winter brought. And it meant you got the wonderful opportunity to see people actively stare at your boyfriend.

It didn't matter when he didn't even bother making eye contact, hands deep in his pockets and resting bitch face on. Two boys came up to him in an excited manner that wasn't fit for early morning. And while Bakugo scowled harder, he still had the courtesy to give them his autograph. You knew that if they weren't highschool students, he'd tell them to fuck off. Bakugo never became aggressive with kids.

Once the order was handed to him, he slipped the tip into the jar at the counter. And since the man never carried change, the barista's face had twisted into shell shock. But Bakugo didn't even acknowledge it and left the premises, making his way back to you.

You were handed the croissant and Acai bowl, nose filling with pleasant scents that warmed you even further into the seat. Katsuki took a sip of his black coffee before handing you your own cup.

"It's very much decaf but I know you like your caramel macchiato."

You squealed at the gesture, not surprised that he was soft for you, and leaned in to give a big wet smooch to his cheek. His smile was evident, even when he tried to keep it hidden.

"I need to stop spoiling you."

He never did.

By the time you'd finished your drink and croissant, your uni had come into view. And as always, some people eyed the Chevrolet Corvette that your boyfriend drove. black exterior glittering in the morning sun.

After a couple affectionate kisses littered across Bakugo's face and a very long kiss on the lips, you got out of your car in your sweats and puffer jacket.

Your friends were waiting by the entrance, having come at the same time, they greeted you while eyeing the car. They knew it belonged to your boyfriend but they never knew what your boyfriend even did to be sports car rich.

"Hello, my children," You muttered out, blinking slowly as you put your scarf over your nose.

"Hey, dude. How did your--" One of your friends began to talk to you while you all walked to class. But after a good fifteen steps, you heard someone call your name.

"Oi." The gruff voice filled your ears.

The three of you turned around and your friends had been left bamboozled.

Because lo and behold, Bakugo Katsuki had graced them with his presence.

The man just held up a green canvas bag, his finger being the only thing to hold the straps. You gasped and ran to grab it, making sure to check the contents as if afraid that you forgot to put your precious artwork before you left your apartment.

"Thank you thank you thank you, 'suki." You muttered, getting on your tippy toes to kiss his nose and mouth. You had to put your hand on rock hard muscle to stabilise yourself and the pressure didn't effect him one bit. He just cupped your face and deepened the kiss before placing one on your forehead.

"Stop being a dumbfuck and sleep on time. And show me what you made when I pick you up."

Bakugo started going back to his car, not caring for the stares your friends were throwing at him. They were chill, so he's heard. Katsuki was too anti social to get first hand experience.

"My guy."

When you turned, your guy friend had grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you vigorously.

"Your rich fucking boyfriend is a WBA fighter. Dude!"

"Yeah!! He's super cool right?"

"He's a fucking god but that's besides the point." Your friend looked more and more erratic.

"Yeah and that god is giving you a death glare. Better get your hands off them, bro. You've seen the amount of blood his opponents lose." Your other friend interjected, already pulling him off of you. He looked pale.

You turned and saw Katsuki stand like a statue, hands in his pockets and eyes hardened. His teeth were gritted which worried you since he already had a bad jaw. Students were swerving away like two rivers, his body like a jagged mountain in the middle.

Your double thumbs up and wide grin was the only thing that broke him out of his stance, shoulders relaxing and jaw releasing from its hold. Katsuki scanned the two men for a few more seconds before he turned and left with a wave of his hand.

"Fuck, I don't think I'll be able to breathe properly all day."

You turned with a skip in your step, happy to have seen your boyfriend for a few extra seconds in the morning.

"He's like a doberman. Such a cutie pie."

"I feel like that's an accurate description considering he would bite our heads off but only let you pet him."

"I see no cuteness in that man."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout #fallout tv series #fallout series #fallout prime #fallout show

[spooky-scary-scarecrow]

"You have beautiful eyes."

(So, I've been skimming Tumblr and haven't found any goddamn Cooper Howard fics that involve how pretty his damn eyes are. Only a handful of people actually mentioned it - babyghoul still has his luscious eyelashes. So since nobody has written a fic of it, I put it in my hands >:] Enjoy!)

Warnings: Mild nudity, mentions of after-sex, cuddling, complimenting, tooth-rotting fluff, a teeny of lore-building in the first few paragraphs

It was a quiet evening, the both of you laying on an old mattress you had found that was surprisingly intact enough to not have a spring digging into your back. The night was elongated from the actions that happened merely moments ago, labored breath between the both of you still filling your ears.

Turning to face Cooper, your eyes roamed his scarred body. A lean frame with muscle, not too much yet not too little. Just enough to show off how strong he can be. You both met only months ago. It was supposed to be just him killing a bounty for you and you'd pay him in caps and viles. Though after the next few bounties, you grew on him and decided to tag along with his journeys. It was like the longer you were both exposed to each other, the more you fell. Ending up in this situation many times before. Quick, easy, just to relieve stress.

Until now. You took the time to observe him. Observe his scars and muscles and callouses as he laid on his back, arms behind his head as his eyes were closed for the moment. You let your gaze drift up to his face - the normally hardened expression softening.

"I can feel you starin'," he spoke after a moment, making your cheeks flush red as you look away.

"Sorry, I just never seen you so... relaxed," you mumbled sheepishly with a chuckle.

A soft hum left him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you in without warning. This was rare, the physical touch. Affectionate. Slowly, you rest your head on his chest, hearing the faint beat of his rotten heart and the rasp of his lungs as he breathed.

A moment passed before you looked back up at him, capturing his gaze with your own. Suddenly, you noticed something you never noticed.

His eyes. You never studied them because of how much movement he made - or there just wasn't any time. You would have thought that his lashes would have been gone along with his other body hair but no. They were still there. Rather thick and long. Framing the hazel orbs of his. Making them stand out.

They seemed almost a rich, deep gold and green at the moment because of the lighting - only the dim flame of the oil lamp on the ground beside the mattress lighting the area.

They were beautiful.

"I never noticed your eyes," you blurted, your gaze lingering on his. You could just see the shift of emotion in them - they were so expressive. More expressive than you expected. It showed he was still a man - still human - even if he did turn into the being he is now.

"Is that a compliment, darlin'?" he mused, raising a hairless brow.

You pondered. Maybe it was. Maybe you should say the things about them that were stuffed in the back of your brain.

"Yes," you answered after a beat. "I'd say more about them if I could put it into words."

He was the one to break the eye-contact, leaning his head back. You didn't speak again, afraid you might have hit a soft spot in the man. But you could see the corners of his lips twitch, his roughened fingertips tracing imaginary shapes on your bicep as he gazed up at the ceiling, through the holes in the roof.

"I never paid attention," you continued with little hesitancy. "Of your eyes, I mean. I always thought all Ghouls had fully black eyes."

A grunt in response. You can take that. The silence fell between the both of you once more. With a heavy exhale, he pulled you closer until your body pressed firmly into his side. A subtle gesture. A silent thank you.

Maybe you should pay attention to him more often.

Thank you for reading! Give me a message if you want to request any prompts for our cowboy ghoul here :D

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fluff #babyghoul <3 #he has such pretty eyes omg #tooth rotting fluff #cooper howard smut #but only mentioned #cuddles

[sc0tters]

Faking It | Jack Hughes

summary: when Jack learns that his girlfriend faked her response in bed the previous night, it can only ever land up with them back in bed as he gives her a time she couldn’t possibly fake.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem receiving), use of vibrator, bondage, ice play, swearing.

word count: 2.49k

authors note: surprised I got this one out today if I’m being honest. @hischierhaze said I can blame her for my lack of a filter for this and @sweetestdesire just told me to tag her. This is what happens when I am left unattended to do things… with that being said I hope you enjoy what came from this prompt!

The sound of your headboard hitting the wall rang through your ears.

Jack held your legs around his waist “right there baby.” Jack grunted dropping his head so that his lips could kiss at your collar bone.

Even with his lips sucking at the sweet spot of your skin you couldn’t seem to get his cock to hit the spot that you needed him in “fuck Jack.” Your cry was more so out of discomfort as a cramp formed in your thigh officially meaning that you had lost any chance of having a good night with your boyfriend.

The hockey player had come home after a long road trip and he wanted nothing more than you and your bed. But all you wanted to do was sleep after a long day at work “you want to be a good girl and come for me?” Jack asked as you clenched your pussy around his cock.

You knew that he was close by how his cock throbbed from inside of you and you knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle it if you didn’t come tonight “shit yeah.” You forced your breath to go airy as your hands reached up to tease your nipples in the hopes that it would help build some pressure in your stomach.

As Jacks grunts began to grow stuttered you decided that then was your chance to act like you came “oh my god Jack,” you huffed your chest making it sound like you had just ran a marathon.

Jack rode out his orgasm before he flopped onto the bed next to you “you were so good baby.” You couldn’t even remain upset for long as the hockey player hooked his fingers under your jaw so he could pull you into a kiss.

After last nights disappointments you invited some friends over to full up your time before Jack was meant to come up from practice “you okay girl?” Mia asked as she sat next to you sensing your silence “can I tell you girls something?” You sighed watching them all nod.

Jack walked back into the apartment deciding that he wanted to be quiet so that he could hear whatever gossip it was that you were talking about “we had sex last night.” Your voice made him stop dead in your tracks “and he thinks I came but I didn’t.” That confession made his eyes go wide.

It wasn’t that he was sad you told your friends, he was sad that you felt the need to fake it and not address it. Because if Jack knew that you had done that you wouldn’t be sat there today “hey baby!” Jack pretended to shut the door once more again but louder this time before he made his way into the living room.

Your eyes were wide as you looked at your boyfriend “how was practice?” You asked trying to ignore the embarrass looks your friends were sending the Hughes boy “it was good, gonna go have a shower now.” He smiled pressing a kiss on your forehead.

Instead Jack actually walked into your bedroom and began deciding his plot of how to make you pay for faking your orgasm whilst he also tried to give you a night of pleasure to make up for what you missed.

Jack was given plenty of time as you ended up back in your room 90 minutes later once your friends had left “how are they all?” Jack asked sending you a smile as you crawled into his lap “don’t care about them right now.” You mumbled running your fingers along his jaw.

The hockey player smirked “want to be a good girl for me?” He cocked his head pecking your lips.

You nodded “always,” and just like that you had fallen into his plan.

Before you knew it your clothes were all off as you were laying on your bed fully naked whilst Jack was only in some sweatpants “you trust me?” The hockey player grabbed his belt as he held your hands together before he tied them to the headboard making sure that the belt was done tight enough you looked at him with a smile.

That wasn’t going to work for him causing the boy to grab his tie “relax baby,” he encouraged you as Jack held it up to your eyes “I’ll be back in a sec,” was the last thing he said after tying it behind your head.

It all felt foreign to you as Jacks tie blocked out the light from your eyes leaving you in darkness “J-jack?” You called out hearing his footsteps retreat “I’m here baby don’t worry.” He cooed coming back to your bed letting the mattress dip as his knees pressed into it.

You grew wet with anticipation as you waited for him to touch you “remember the safe word is red.” Jack mumbled pressing a kiss to your lips before a buzzing noise between your thighs pulled your attention away from his lips.

That feeling was familiar from anywhere, the vibrating was shared between your clit and your pussy making you realise that it was your red rabbit vibrator. It was a purchase you got when Jack was on a roadtrip and when he came home he caught you laying on your bed in some pretty robe for him but when you got impatient you leaned on your new friend to help you out. Rather than get upset Jack spent that evening learning how to further improve your experience in bed with the help of the red device “shit Jack!” You gasped realising that your boyfriend had gone for the highest speed setting straight off the bat.

Your hips jerked against the device as you felt your high quickly approaching “don’t stop,” you begged desperately tugging at the belt that had your hands up by your headboard “not yet baby.” Jack clicked his tongue turning the speed of the vibrator all the way down to its lowest setting.

It caused you to whimper “don’t be a brat about it.” He warned using his free hand to softly hit your clit “you want to embarrass me like that in front of all your friends?” Jack’s harsh words made your jaw go slack “and think that you won’t get punished for it?” He let out a laugh as he shook his head.

Jack let the speed slowly increase again as it looked like you had fallen enough away from your high “let’s see if you take this one like a good girl this time?” The hockey player increased the speed up one button more as he grabbed an ice cube from the cup next to him.

Your body ached as your toes curled “y-you know?” Your voice trembled, quickly you felt bad at the thought out your boyfriend knowing what you had done “had to hear you telling all of those fucking friends of yours too.” You didn’t have time to think about how his voice sounded mumbled as the boys lips dropped down to your breast “shit!” You groaned almost jumping out of this constraints you jumped so hard.

The cold ice cube served as the perfect contrast to your hot skin “fuck Jackie!” You cried at the sensory overload that you were feeling “breathe baby.” Jack ordered watching in awe as the water dripped from your stiff and sensitive peak.

You huffed trying to hold back a moan desperate for Jack to let you come “‘m so sorr-” you cut yourself off as he moved his attention to your other breast repeating his actions with what was left of the ice cube “think you should beg to come.” Jack had to admit that his cock pulsated in his sweatpants as it felt forgotten and unloved waiting for you to turn your focus to it “please Jack!” You cried trying to form a coherent sentence.

Your thighs shook as you couldn’t keep them planted on the mattress anymore “I’ll never fake an orgasm ever again.” You offered with your voice oozing in pleads “going to need more from you than that.” Jack shook his head again dropped the ice cube onto your stomach causing him to grunt out in pleasure as he watched it glide down your torso finally stopping just above your belly button.

It seemed like as the ice cube stopped so did your vibration causing your high that had built up to quick drop again “think you can go again?” Jack asked massaging the little 86 tattoo that you had on your hip “uh huh,” you whimpered feeling your vibrator slide out of your core.

Jacks weight shifted to the side of your bed before he went back to the centre, his arms wrapped around your thighs as if you could have tried to go anywhere else “shush baby.” Jack cooed as he pursed his lips around the cube of ice bringing his mouth down to your slit.

You cried out in pleasure feeling the cold cube pressed up against your clit as Jack ran the cube down your slit “p-p-please Jack.” You whined tensing up your whole body as he pushed the cube into your soaked cunt.

It made you moan as the ice began to melt in your warm core leaving Jack to suck at your clit “want to touch you,” you complained as tugged as the belt once more now fully aware that it was going to cause a bruise on your wrist’s tomorrow “not yet.” Jacks words could barely be heard as he didn’t pick his head up from your clit as his tongue swirled around the sensitive nub.

It didn’t help that you were still feeling those two previous attempts at orgasm that failed so now all you wanted as for this one to suck you into the bliss that would have been coming around his cock as you saw the stars “Jesus baby you’re soaked.” The hockey player smirked to himself knowing that this was all his work.

He went back to letting his tongue work on your clit as your body began to shiver, thighs driving towards him “all for you.” You stumbled over your words “all real too.” You added desperate to clench around something that wasn’t the quickly melting ice as that was how you liked to come.

Jacks cock stuffing you to the brim as his thumb played on your clit or with your nipples “you know the rules tonight.” He pulled away once more making you huff in annoyance.

The hockey player stared at your body sat there all innocently as he smiled seeing how frustrated you were “you had enough?” Jack asked leaning forward as he pushed the tie off of your head.

It took you a few seconds to adjust before you looked at him “just want you now.” You complained sending him a needy look that he couldn’t say no to.

Jack nodded undoing his belt before he rubbed your wrists “next time, I’m tying you up.” You mumbled cupping his face with your hands so that you could pull him into a kiss.

The boy almost fell onto your bed as you pulled him down “I wanna fuck you.” Jack confessed deciding that the pain in his cock was no longer worth it.

The hockey player smiled as you hooked your fingers in his waistband “no baby, I’m gonna work for you tonight.” Now this was the apology part of the plan.

He let his sweatpants drop to the floor as he kicked the ends off “been so good for me baby.” Jack cooed leaning down to kiss your lips.

Your eyes fluttered feeling his cock run against your clit “please don’t tease me.” You begged not believing that you could handle more of it “just making sure you were ready.” Jack joked not giving you enough time to snap back at him before he thrusted his throbbing cock in your wet cunt.

Jack didn’t even need the time to let you adjust before he hooked your legs over his shoulder “my flexible good girl.” He mumbled hovering his lips over yours as he established a good rhythm that would be aided by your sensitive core “god Jack.” You moaned feeling your breasts bounce with each thrust of his cock.

The sight was hot, no distance between the love drunk couple as the sound of your moans harmonised together “just me baby.” The hockey player grunted feeling your pussy clench around his cock “you want to come already?” His tone was teasing.

Your face grew red as you nodded “making me feel so full your toes curled as pleasure pulsated through your body.

Jack needed just a bit more from you “hold it,” he warned not wanting to ruin a hot night because you couldn’t listen.

His order made tears form in your eyes as he stared down at you, letting his hair down to tickle your face “Jack please,” you begged as the pressure between your thighs threatened to burst at any minute.

His grunts quickly joined a competition with your moans in an effort to drown the other out “keep squeezing my cock like that baby.” Jacks thoughts began to grown foggy as his orgasm approach too.

Your fingers slid between your two bodies “I can’t hold it anymore Jack.” You confessed letting those fingers attach your clit as they rubbed in a circular motion.

Jack let his head drop to your neck in a similar way that he did it the night before “come for me baby.” He ordered replacing your hand in your clit “come so the neighbours can hear who makes you feel like this.” The hockey player let his lips nip at the skin of your neck in order to control himself.

His hips snapped so fast if was like they might have snapped out of place “fucking shit Jack!” You cried out grinding your hips into his as you eyes screwed shut.

His orgasm came shortly after yours with how you came around his naked cock -something you two hadn’t done before- “holy shit baby.” Jack gasped final a final thrust into your cunt before he pulled his cock out “you squirted.” He pointed out looking at the wet patch on his lower torso.

Before you had the chance to grow embarrassed he smiled “that was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” Jack confessed kissing your cheeks, a habit he had picked up whenever you blushed.

You smiled looking at him “think I should fake some more orgasms if we are gonna have sex like that afterwards.” You joked running your fingers through his hair “next time I’m not going to let you come.” Jack warned making you laugh.

The hockey player had to admit that these small moments after sex with you were some of his favourites “bath or shower?” He proposed knowing that you both desperately needed a clean “bath.”

#jack hughes smut #Jack Hughes imagines #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #imagines #oneshots #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x reader #amber writes fics

[vroomvroomcircuit]

You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #x reader #reader insert #charles leclerc x female!reader #x female!reader

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL X CAELUS! READER

prompt: you were found digging in their trash and they took you in

(I got covid😭 so me posting xreader will be kinda slow)

You were digging for some food ever since you fell from heaven because you kept fighting people over trash…I mean damn reader…

You fell with a blank look as you had a rotten banana in your mouth as you looked down to see pentagram city…so what did you do? You pulled out your fire sword and slash the ground to soften your fall which worked. You changed it to a bat for protection as you found a dumpster!

CHA-CHING✨ MORE TRASHHHH

You dig in the dumpster not hearing a person whistling. The person dropped the garbage bag shocked to see a….? Whatever you are digging in the dumpster. Your face was completely dirty as you lift it up to show you found a cool old watch.

Charlie didn’t know what to do. Are you homeless? Is what she thought as she takes you out the garbage as you blankly stare at her “•_•” “uhm sweetie are you okay?” “……” “not much of a talker huh…” you just stayed quiet as Charlie introduced herself and shook your hand bringing you to the hotel so you can have a place to stay.

I feel like you were a new angel and only stayed for like 1 month…(free trial ass shit…) and so when you didn’t act holy and proper. That’s why you mostly got kicked out

Vaggie will know you are an angel because of your angelic look and golden eyes as you just stand there minding your business. You tell her you fell because you fought over your treasure….your trash practically. So Vaggie tells you what happened to her and you hugged her making her feel safe about herself a bit.

You two have matching bracelets you made from an exercise Charlie did.

Okay I headcannon that Lucifer is already in the hotel living with his daughter. And he felt your presence and he would be like. “Fuck are you doing here”🤨 “I fought for my life.”

Vox one time put you on air with him because of your golden shining eyes….i think he was flirting with you as you ate some gift cookies he made for you…

Velvette tried to make you a model, but you kept wandering off somehow. Literally she got tired of you but never of your face as she at least posted you wearing some nice 2000 makeup

Carmilla had a gut feeling about you being an angel. She wanted to kill you but then you gave her a ring you found in a dumpster because you said she reminded you of your earth mother/parent. Yeah she wanted to adopt you

You help sir Pentious, or who you call penny for his project builds. You dig in dumpster’s, trash bins, and garbage dumps

Angel dust and you sometimes just be on your phones all the time which is obnoxious. But hey, I don’t make the rules. Being on your phone makes it seem like you don’t want to be talked to which is true.

Lucifer made you a duck as he notciced how lonely you are….(you don’t give a fuck, you only need trash as your friends) so Lucifer made you 20 ducks that are based on your favorite things or like idk just ducks

The egg boiz follow you around as you literally calling you the, “TRASH BOSS!” Not in a bad way more like in admiration as you give them stuff from the garbage.

Your golden eyes shining in the night scaring husk as he didn’t even see you in his hind sight. Like he is a cat, but he didn’t even see you?!

You and alastor’s both eat weird things, like he is a cannibal….and for you..either trash or just normal weird food combos

Alastor would definitely try to get you to eat cannibal meat, but to be honest you can tell the difference between human and regular meat. You always know.

Niffty is the kind of person who would give you a trash flower crown, kinda like how she made a crown for Alastor ✨🦆

I headcannon your angelic/demon form to be a raccoon 💀

You send dumbass memes in the hazbin hotel gc…

You are quite the feral person tbh, but who didn’t know when you literally fought people for your damn trash.

You definitely had bit Valentino once as Angel dust brought you to a club and you were digging in trash to find something cool. But Valentino found you adorable in the face and wanted to make you a sex worker. And what did you do when he tried to hurt Angel?

YOU BIT HIS FUCKIN HAND ALMOST OFF AS ANGEL WAS TRYING TO PULL YOU OFF😭

Yeah..you definitely had blood dripping from your mouth when Angel dragged you out of the club

#caelus x reader #caelus #Caelus! reader #raccoon! reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin x you #crossover #honkai star rail x reader #hsr caelus

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Dick pic | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Sub!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Dom!Girlfriend!Reader

Summary -> Bucky really wants your attention, and with his bratty side he always knows how to get it, even when he gets punished and isn’t allowed to touch you while you edge him.

Wordcount -> 2.8k

Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, Sub!Bucky, whining Bucky, mommy kink, using of Handcuffs and vibrator, oral (male!receiving), begging, mention of safe word (just asking which color), edging, fingering (fem!receiving), dick pic, unprotected p in v,

A/N -> The Oneshot belongs to the collection “Subby Baby feat. Bucky Barnes”. I want to thank @imtryingbuck for helping me come up with the idea, and while I wrote this one. Some of the dialogue parts are written by her. Header and Divider are also made by her.

Prompt -> Build-A-Bucky-Bingo | Round One | BABB055 | February | Belly Bulge | @buckybarnesevents | Fandom-Free Bingo Frosty Edition | G2 | Wiping tears away | @fandom-free-bingo | Sweetheart Bingo | I3 | Good Boy | @sweetspicybingo | Bingo of your own | N5 | Bondage | @thebo3bingo | Fandom-Free Bingo Valentines Edition | B3 | Dick pic | @fandom-free-bingo

Masterlist | Subby Baby feat. Bucky Barnes | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Meetings are something Bucky really doesn’t like, especially when you’re in one and he is waiting for you in your shared room. He is bored, really bored, and the only thing he can think of is you on top of him, bouncing on his thick cock, while you praise him for how good he is. But the tiny bratty side inside of him wants him to break one of your rules; he wants you to punish him.

You’re in the middle of a meeting, shifting from one foot to the other while you write some ideas for a new project for your company. When you get a message and you see Bucky's name appearing on the screen, you immediately worry about your boyfriend. He doesn’t write to you when he knows you’re in a meeting, unless it’s something important. So you unlock your phone and tap on his chat. There is a picture he sent you, and you gasp when you see his dick.

Bucky sent you a dick picture, his pants shoved down his thighs, his rock-hard dick with pre-cum leaking from his tip with his hand around his shaft. You turn your phone off, blushing slightly before you clear your throat.

“Excuse me a moment, please write down more ideas for projects,” you tell them, and they hum in response.

You take your phone and rush out of the room. When the door is closed behind you, you take a shaky breath. Bucky can be naughty, but you didn’t know he would send you a dick picture to get your attention. Everyone of your coworkers could have seen that picture of his dick, a part of him that is only allowed to be seen by you or him. Then you unlock your phone and call Bucky; it doesn’t take long for him to pick it up.

“Hey,” he says happily.

“Baby boy, we talked about this.”

“About what?”

You roll your eyes, and Bucky knows because he giggles softly.

“James.”

A soft gasp leaves his lips; he pushes the limits, and when you call him by his first name, you make it clear. And he knew he would be punished if he didn't apologize immediately, but he wants you to punish him; he wants to feel the pleasure when you tell him that he is a bad boy.

“Mommy, it’s so hard; it hurts,” he whines.

Bucky wraps his hand around his throbbing cock, moving his hand slowly up and down. Soft moans leave his lips while he thinks about your lips around his cock, your tongue gliding along his shaft, and the way you kiss the tip of his dick.

“Bucky?”

“Mhm, mommy.”

“Do you break another rule right now?”

“Nuhuuu. Just help to calm it down.”

“Baby boy, take your hand off your cock, right now,” you demand.

“B-but mommy, it hurts. It's so hard.”

“Take your hand off.”

Bucky whines, letting go of his dick and letting it slap against his stomach.

“O-oke. Done,” he mumbles.

You smirk softly, knowing he did it on purpose. He wants you to be rough with him; he wants his punishment, and you’re willing to give him what he is silently asking for.

“You have been a bad boy; do you need a punishment?”

“Yes, mommy.”

The way his tone changes into a euphoric one makes you smile.

“I’m there in five minutes.”

You hang up and smile before you walk to your shared room. You make your way through the elevators to go to your room. Meanwhile, Bucky takes off his clothes, and the smile on his face grows when he slides his thumb over the tip of his cock. He knows how to get you to your room in just a short time, even when he gets punished, but he has your attention.

Bucky listens when you walk through the floor until you open the door and walk into the room. He looks at you, grinning.

“Mommy,” he says excitedly.

“Don’t try to be a good boy. You get your punishment.”

He hums and makes you frown. Then you raise your eyebrow, pointing with your head in front of you. Without telling him what to do, he stands up and walks closer to you before he gets on his knees. His hands are on his thighs while he looks at his hands.

“Good boy,” you say, running your fingers through his short brown hair.

Then your grip tightens, and you make him look at you. He whines; his dick is so hard, his balls so full. Bucky slides his hand from his thighs to your legs, moving them up until he reaches your knees.

“No. I didn’t allow you to touch mommy, did I?” you ask with a stern voice, and he immediately shakes his head, but his hands are still resting on your knees. “Baby boy, I won’t repeat myself.”

He groans but removes his hands and places them back on his thighs. You take a step back, letting go of his hair, and turn around to look for something you placed in the drawer. Bucky’s eyes follow every movement you make; he squirms slightly in anticipation.

“Get on the bed,” you say.

Bucky stands up and walks a few steps, then he turns and walks towards you. His arms are immediately around your waist, and he presses his hard dick against your ass. You moan softly at the sudden feeling of him being so close, and Bucky smirks. He slips his hands under your shirt, one on your hips, while the other finds its way underneath your panties. With a tight grip around his arm, you pull it out of your pants.

“You like that, mommy?” he asks, kissing along your neck before he bites softly into your sensitive skin.

“James. On. The. Bed. Now.”

“But mo-“

“Now.”

Bucky groans and pushes his hips against yours before he lets go of you. Then he turns around and walks towards the bed, letting himself fall onto it. His eyes are focused on you when you turn around. In your hand, you hold handcuffs and a vibrator. You walk closer to the bed, placing them next to Bucky.

You then take off your clothes, which is way too slow for Bucky, so he thinks about helping you. He reaches for you, but you take a step back, and he pouts.

“Wanna help you, mommy,” he mumbles, trying to look angry.

“You look like a puppy when you try to look angry, baby boy.”

Bucky pouts even more and places his hands on your hips when you’re undressed. He pulls you closer, trying to push you onto his thigh, but you’re faster and grip his hands, holding them above his head. Then you push him with his back down so he lays in front of you, your upper body almost laying on his, while you spread his legs with yours.

“No touching,” you say, raising an eyebrow when he tries to free his hands.

“But mommy, I love touching you.”

“And good boys are allowed to touch their mommy's, but you weren't good; you sent me a picture of your dick while I was working.”

You push yourself up and let your hands roam over Bucky’s body. Your fingertips are sliding softly along his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps on Bucky’s skin. He pushes his hips against you when you stroke his thighs, not touching his dick. You kiss his shoulders, down to his chest, and leave hickeys around his nipple. Bucky moans softly, trying his best to hold his hands above his head, but he just loves it so much to touch you. He wants to feel every inch of your body, so he moves one hand to your head, gripping a hand of hair and pushing you more against his body.

“James.”

“Mommy, please.”

“You push the limits,” you tell him with a stern voice, but he still has his hand in your hair.

He loves to touch you, especially when he makes you feel good. You take his hands in yours and reach for the handcuffs. Then you nod to the headboard, showing him to sit down against it. Bucky whines, but when you look with furrowed eyebrows at him, he obeys and pushes himself up to sit against the headboard. You sit next to him on your knees on the bed and handcuff him to the bed. He pouts, and you can’t stop and smile before you kiss his nose and crawl across the bed until you sit opposite him.

When you sit comfortably, you spread your legs and reveal your throbbing cunt. Bucky moans when his eyes are immediately focused on your pussy, especially when your hand slides down your body and you use your fingers to guide it through your wet folds. You slowly rub circles on your clit before you push one of your fingers inside of you. Bucky groans and whimpers when you add another finger and start to move it in and out of you. He can’t stop looking at your pussy, at your wet fingers, and at the way you push them inside your tight hole while you moan softly.

“Mommy, it’s so hard,” Bucky mumbles, trying to get your attention.

You grab the vibrator next to you and pull your fingers out of your pussy to replace it with the toy. Then you turn it on and throw your head back, moaning. Bucky pulls at the handcuffs, trying to get out of them so he can touch you, or at least himself, to give himself a bit of release.

“I wanna touch you or myself. Please mommy.”

You smirk and move closer to him, the toy still vibrating between your legs. Then you wrap your hand around his cock, your thumb brushing over his tip, which is leaking with pre-cum. You stroke him slowly, and whenever he pushes his hips against your hand, you squeeze his cock softly.

“I’m sorry, but it feels so good,” he tells you, trying to grip something to ground himself.

Then you lower your head and take him in your mouth, using your tonics to lick around his tips before you take him inch by inch until he is completely in your mouth. You taste the familiar salty pre-cum. One of your hands moves to his balls, and you roll them softly in your palm. Bucky moans, thrusting his hips against you and throwing his head back because of the pleasure he feels.

When you let his dick slip out of your mouth, you kiss his tip. The toy inside of you brings you closer to the edge, your walls clenching around it, and you moan softly. You wrap your lips around his cock and let him slide into your mouth once more, hollowing your cheeks. Bucky’s cock twitches in your mouth, and when he is about to cum you let go of him and move a few inches away from him.

“I was so close, mommy, please,” he whines, trying to get out of the handcuffs while he thrusts his hips into your direction.

You smirk at him, waiting a bit before you wrap your hand around his cock again. You slowly move it up and down, sliding your thumb across his tip, before you use your other hand to take his balls in it and squeeze them softly.

“Mhm- it feels so good,” he moans, his mouth slightly open and his breath heavy.

Bucky’s sweating, and he tries to get more of your touch while you’re slowly stroking his dick. You lower your head once more and lick along the underside of his thick member. Bucky wraps his legs around your body, trying to pull you closer so you have to swallow his cock, and he has control over it until he cums in your mouth. But you know your boyfriend, so you slide underneath his legs away from him. He groans and looks with a begging expression on his face at you.

“Mommy, please. I wanna cum.”

“No. No, you decided to be a bad boy and go against mommy’s wishes, so now you don’t get to cum,” you say sternly.

“P-Please, mommy. Please, it hurts.”

“What hurts, baby boy?” you ask him in faux concern, and you stroke his thigh softly.

“M-my balls. So heavy and full,” he mumbles, blushing when those words leave his lips.

"Well, you should have thought about that before being a brat.”

Bucky whines, tears forming in his eyes and slowly falling down his cheeks. He shifts back and forth, trying to press his thighs together, but since you’re sitting between them, he doesn’t get the friction he tries to get.

You move forward, capturing his cheeks with your hands, and wipe his tears away. He leans into your touch; he looks at you, and you feel your knees getting weak. Then you smile softly and kiss his nose and forehead before you capture his lips with yours.

“Color, Buck.”

“G-Green.”

With a smile, you nod and move a few inches away.

“Make me cum, and I will allow you to cum too, oke?"

Bucky nods. He immediately smirks and pulls at the handcuffs so he can touch you and make you cum. You remove the toy first before you free Bucky’s hands from the handcuffs. In the moment his hands are free, he pushes you onto your back and towers over you.

“Mommy, can I please put it in? I won’t cum before you cum,” he begs, his cock sliding between your wet folds.

“Go ahead, baby.”

You don’t have to tell him twice; he grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance. He then slides inside of you slowly and carefully. Bucky whimpers; you feel so good around him, and his cock is so sensitive, but he wants more; he wants to be inside of you completely.

“M-m-m,” he stutters, closing his eyes and letting his body fall on top of yours.

“Shhh, baby boy. I’ve got you,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his body and stroking his back.

He is so deep inside of you, your walls clenching around him and squeezing him, that he doesn’t dare to move; otherwise, he would probably cum before you do. One of your hands slides into his hair, and you play with his soft, brown hair, waiting until he wants to move inside of you.

"So- soooo tight.”

You chuckle, kissing him while he slowly moves. Just an inch out of you before he pushes back inside of you. He fills you so perfectly, hitting all the right spots. When you moan because of his thrust, he does it again, wanting to hear those sweet sounds again. So he thrust slowly but deeply inside of you, whimpering whenever your walls are squeezing his dick.

After a while, he pushes himself up to move better. His hands are on both sides of your waist when he looks at your pussy and pulls out of you. His eyes are focused on his wet dick and the way it slides in and out of you. When he speeds up, he holds his hand in your belly, pressing slightly down until he feels his dick inside of you.

"Mommy, I’m so deep. I can feel myself- mhm- I’m so d-deep inside of you.”

“Yes, baby. And you’re doing so well.”

Bucky groans when you praise him; he throws his head back and thrusts faster inside of you. His dick is twitching; the warmth and tightness are making him go crazy, but he knows he isn’t allowed to cum before you do. So he guides his hand between your legs, his fingers sliding through your folds, before he reaches your clit and rubs it in small circles. You feel the knot building up in your stomach, and Bucky does too.

"Fuck, you’re doing so well. Cum now,” you demand, knowing that he is as close as you.

You moan his name, arching your back and squeezing him even tighter when you cum all around his dick. Bucky cums just a moment after you; he whimpers and moans when he thrusts his seeds deep into you. He still fucks you until the two of you come down from your high.

“Thank you, mommy,” he mumbles, letting himself, with his dick still buried inside of you, fall down.

His hair is sweaty, and you stroke it out of his face, letting him calm down completely. While he does so, you praise him, mumble some sweet words into his hair, and caress his cheek.

“Are you oke, baby?"

“Yes, I’m sorry for sending the picture while you were in a meeting. But I needed you so bad.”

“Don’t worry, but now let’s clean you up, oke?”

Bucky nods, slowly pulling out of you but holding you in place until his seeds throb out of you and he coats his fingers with them. He then lets you sit up as well and pulls you into a short but passionate kiss.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @lives-in-midgard | @rogersbarber | @kandis-mom | @km-ffluv | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @harleycao | @lunaalovesyouu | @casa-boiardi | @futurequeen2018-blog | @blackhawkfanatic | @flstrawberry

#build a bucky bingo #fandomfreebingo #sweet and spicy bingo #bingo of our own #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #sub!bucky #sub! bucky Barnes #subby bucky #sub!Bucky Barnes x dom!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky x fem reader #bucky x yn #bucky x female yn

[rogueddie]

Trinkets of Affection T | 700 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is not in the big things but in the small ones

Steve is Eddies first serious relationship. Even when he fantasized about what his future love life might be, he never thought he could get anything even close to what Steve gives him.

He loves with everything he is, Eddie quickly realized. If there's anything he can think of that might make Eddie smile, he does it. He turns up with flowers, or mixtapes, or rings.

One time he'd turned up with a paper rose that he'd made himself. He explained that he had thought Eddie might like things that were made, that took effort, more than expensive things.

He's right, of course.

But it all builds up, and Eddie wants to give Steve things too.

The first thing Eddie thinks to get him is a ring. He's noticed how much Steve's eyes linger on his own, how often he'll start playing with Eddie's rings when they hold hands, how he has favorites.

He can't simply buy Steve some ring he thinks he might like though. Anyone could do that. Eddie wants it to be special.

So, he digs through the tub he uses to organise all his rings. He separates them into two piles; rings he wears, and one he won't miss.

It's almost too easy to find one that Steve will like.

But, looking it over, he starts to doubt himself. Especially because it's not one of the rings he bought- it's the one he made.

The ring is painfully simple, and poorly made. Eddie is surprised it's lasted as long as it had.

It's little more than a a plain silver band with a cool rock he found on the ground stuck onto it. He can't even remember what he used to get it on there.

He had been so proud though. He had wanted to do something, and he did it.

He only hopes that he's right in thinking that Steve is as sentimental as Eddie thinks he is. That, or he also likes cool rocks.

"A gift?" Steve teases, immediately. "Aw, for me?"

"It's not much, it's..." Eddie awkwardly pulls the ring out, keeping it hidden in his fist. "I made it, like, years ago and... that seems like something you'd think was cool. Or, uh, romantic. Right?"

"Very romantic."

"Ok, uh... here."

Steve stares at the ring, dropped onto his palm, for a horrifyingly long amount of time.

"I know it's not-"

"You made this?" Steve cuts him off. He finally looks up at Eddie, with an unreadable expression.

"Well... yeah. I was only, like, thirteen so it's not very... uh... pretty?"

"What? No, Eds, this is- this is perfect."

He shifts the ring in his hands, before trying to squeeze it onto his pinky finger. It only just fits.

"I can get you something better."

Steve snorts, still looking at the ring as he turns his hand so he can see the different angles. "Good fucking luck," he mumbles.

Steve doesn't take the ring off that day, or that week, or ever. Eddie isn't sure he ever does take it off, outside of taking a shower.

"I don't want it to get, like, water damage!" Steve explained, when Eddie asked.

"It's just... isn't it annoying?" Eddie tried. "Wearing it all the time? It's clunky and-"

"And I like it. You made this, Eds. It's not a small thing to me."

"It's just a rock."

"Sure it is."

"Steve-"

"Eddie," Steve's tone is sharp enough that Eddie's mouth snaps shut. "This is something you made. It's your ring, and I get to wear it. Like... I can't tell everyone how much I love you, but this way I can at least show them."

"... oh."

"You get it now?"

"That- yeah. Yeah, I get it."

Steve glances around the shop before leaning in, stealing a quick kiss, before turning to the shelf in front of them. "Good. So, I was thinking this one might fit better. What do you think?"

"Yeah, it looks great."

But his eyes are still trained in Steve. He grins, barely paying attention to what he goes on to rant about, too lost in how his heart flutters when he glances down at his hand, at the ring he still wears.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #nav.slm

[wynnyfryd]

the kind of charm we need

written for @steddiemicrofic september prompt ‘charm’ + 548 words | rated T | pre-relationship, fluff, flirting, boys being dumb

🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄

“‘Not the kind of charm we need,’” Steve mutters derisively to himself for the tenth time that day as they pull up to the cemetery curb.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin sighs, “your time and talents are sooo wasted on us, Steve, we get it.”

Max glares at him from the rearview like she agrees with Dustin, then shoves out of the backseat and slams the door shut behind her without a word.

Shit.

Steve watches her climb the hill, guilt rolling through his guts. Fuckin’ Nancy. There are bigger problems here.

Like, for example, the metalhead fugitive having a nervous breakdown in a boathouse.

“Oh, my god,” Lucas says from the backseat as the walkie crackles to life, Eddie’s quivering voice calling out for ‘Dustin? Anybody? Hello??’

He passes the walkie up to the front with a look like he’s debating whether or not to just smash the thing to pieces on the asphalt instead. “Can you maybe use your charm on Eddie before I murder him?”

“He’s in distress!” Dustin cries.

“He’s on my last nerve!”

“Seriously, anybody?? Please!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, give me that.” Steve yanks the walkie out of Lucas’ hand, hauls himself out of the car — leans in to tell the two shitheads to stay put and shut up before he closes the door.

He leans against the driver’s side, head throbbing, body sore. Can’t tell if he’s too young or too old for this shit. He pushes the talk button with a begrudgingly slow press.

“Steve Harrington’s babysitting and distraction service, how may I help you? Over.”

“Stevie!” Eddie whoops, sounding genuinely thrilled to hear Steve’s voice. Steve knows he’s just excited to hear anyone’s voice, but. Hm. “Goddamn am I glad to- wait, where’s Henderson? Sinclair? Are they—?”

“They’re fine,” Steve assures before the creep of hysteria he hears can fully take hold. He kicks his heel against the front tire. “They’re waiting in the car. I’ve been instructed to, like, charm you into calming down, or whatever.”

“Charm me?” Eddie’s voice lilts with interest. Steve can almost see the smile, the way he licks across his front teeth.

“Just a— well, not a joke, but, like…” Steve trails off, gives up trying to explain. Nance has this way of making comments that cling like cactus spines. “Never mind.”

“No, no,” Eddie says. “Go on. I’m ready to be charmed.”

And maybe it’s the way Eddie says charmed like a snake scenting the air, or maybe it’s the stress of the day; maybe he’s finally having his own little mental breakdown as a treat, because for some insane reason he leans into whatever this is, pitches his voice all low and slippery and asks, “What are you wearing?”

Silence for a moment, and then Eddie cackles, the noise so loud it overwhelms the little speaker in the walkie, bursts of laughter breaking through the static noise. Steve finds himself laughing, too, a slow thing that builds and builds, swells inside him like blown glass until he’s warm and bright all over.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes when he finally calms. “You’re— you’re ridiculous. Shit, man, I really needed that, you have no idea.”

Steve smiles to himself. Bites the inside of his cheek. Not the kind of charm we need.

No, but someone might.

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note: i am aware that this is canon adjacent (which is to say that i meant for it to take place in canon but i didn’t feel like rewatching the scene for total accuracy so like, canon can bite me it’s close enough)

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficseptember #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie drabble #steddie fluff #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair

[steddieas-shegoes]

your heart sings to mine

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'open mic night' rated: M wc: 992 cw: alcohol, implied/referenced recreational drug use tags: mutual pining, idiots to lovers, love confessions in the rain

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The bar didn’t call it karaoke night because they were hoping to attract talent.

At least that’s what the owner said when they arrived, ready to sign up for a song.

Steve sighed in relief, and Robin quickly got over it when she saw the list of people singing.

Eddie, of course, still added his name, much to the bar owner’s disgust and disappointment.

And now they were waiting through a line of mediocre at best singers, who probably only signed up because someone told them once that they had a nice voice.

"This woman knows that professionals have to be able to hit the notes, right?" Robin asked Steve, her face giving away her displeasure.

"I think she thinks she is a professional," Steve replied, wincing as the woman's voice cracked.

"I think I can at least hit the notes in the song I picked," Eddie grinned. "Promise not to boo me off the stage if I don't, though."

He was teasing; He had an actual band that he actually performed on stage with once a week. He would not only hit all the notes, but probably put on a hell of a show.

Steve was a little worried about that.

He'd only been to two Corroded Coffin shows before; The first was an accident when he was a senior, before he knew Eddie, and the second was with Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy shortly after Eddie was cleared to do regular activities again.

That show had been quite a life changing event for Steve.

It's not that he hadn't noticed his attraction to Eddie before, it's just that it was more on the backburner.

But seeing him on stage, lighting up the bar, becoming this huge figure while still maintaining his casual act of being the town outcast, Steve realized this wasn't just attraction.

This was the kind of feeling that happens when you aren't paying attention, when you think you know how you feel and then get hit with the moment.

That was over a month ago and Steve hadn't said anything to Eddie.

Nancy, of all people, had been the one to notice. She pulled him aside that night and asked him if he was sure.

And he wasn't. Not then, not now.

He was sure of his feelings, but not Eddie's.

"Eddie Munson!" the person handling the list called into the microphone.

"Cheer extra loud for me," Eddie winked at Steve as he got up and ran to the stage.

As if there was any chance Steve wouldn't.

The song started and Steve froze.

Head Over Heels was the last thing he expected to hear, and for a moment, he thought they mixed up Eddie's chosen song with someone else's.

But Eddie smiled into the microphone and started singing right on cue.

"Oh boy," Robin said from next to him.

Steve couldn't say anything.

All he could do was sit and watch and listen.

Eddie sang beautifully, his slightly rough voice adding an edge to a song that otherwise didn't have one at all.

When it ended, Steve stood up from his seat abruptly, needing fresh air, maybe a smoke.

The beer he'd been drinking wasn't doing it.

As he made his way outside, he pulled the joint Eddie had rolled for them to share out of his pocket, ready to light it.

He didn't smoke often, but this felt like the right time.

The rain pouring down outside didn't deter him from going, he knew he had a change of clothes in his trunk and he was willing to risk catching a cold if it meant having a moment outside alone.

But he was only alone for a moment.

He turned when the side door banged open, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Eddie's head turning from side to side to look for him.

"Steve!" Eddie said when he saw him against the wall of the opposite building. "Did you not like the song?"

He looked hurt.

Steve hated when he looked like that.

"No, I loved it," he said, doing his best to bite back the 'I love you' that wanted to pour from his mouth.

"Oh. Good," Eddie said, relaxing. "Why are you out here getting wet then?"

"Just needed some air."

Eddie frowned.

"Are you feeling sick? I can drive us back, I only had one drink."

"No, no. That's not it."

"What is it then?"

And Steve couldn't lie to him. He couldn't look at the vulnerability in Eddie's eyes, and think about the way he just sang Steve's favorite song on stage in front of at least 50 people, and lie.

"Why did you sing that song?" he finally asked.

"What? Because you like it," Eddie said, looking down at his shoes.

"But...why? Why does it matter if I like the song you sing at open mic night?"

"Because I want you to like me."

His voice broke and so did Steve's heart.

Steve dropped the joint on the ground, closed the distance between them, cupped Eddie's face in his hands, and kissed him.

It was wet from the rain, wet from Steve's tongue.

Wet from the tears he hadn't realized were falling from his eyes.

When he pulled away, Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, his lips red from the hard kiss.

"I love you, Eddie. Before the song, even."

"You-"

"Yeah."

"I think I blacked out."

"You didn't," Steve huffed a laugh.

"No I had to. Because there's no way you just said-"

"I did. I do. I love you."

"I just sang Tears For Fears in public for you. In front of people. On a stage. I think it's pretty clear I love you too," Eddie smirked.

They kissed again, for so long that their clothes were soaked through, long enough that Robin came to find them and yelled at them to get a room.

The back of Steve's car was good enough for now.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #open mic night #writing challenge

[queers-gambit]

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine smut #tangerine imagine #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #atj #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj character #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x female!reader #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine x reader smut #requested #queers gambit

[farfaras]

First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1. (You’re here)

Part 2.

-

If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.

Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.

No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.

And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.

Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.

Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.

Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.

“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.

“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.

Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.

“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”

“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.

“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.

Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)

Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”

“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.

“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?

“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.

“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.

“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”

Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”

The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?

“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”

Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.

“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?

“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.

“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.

“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.

“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.

“Thanks, bud.”

After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.

Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?

First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

At least for a while.

What could go wrong?

-

Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

Step 2. Make a game plan.

They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.

Step 3. Hope it’s believable.

He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?

He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.

“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.

He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.

Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.

They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.

“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.

“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”

“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.

“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.

“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.

“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”

Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.

“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”

“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?

“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.

“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”

“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?

“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?

“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.

“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.

Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.

Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”

“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.

“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.

#this is just the introduction to it all #i hope it gets you hyped ? lol #decided on this title because the song has been on my mind 24/7 for a while #I think I got an ex but I forgot him #steddie #steve harrington #dustin henderson #jonathan byers #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #platonic steve x jonathan #mer writes sometimes #stranger things s4 #stranger things netflix #eddie munson #steveddie #my fics