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eupheme · 1 day

Text

— mine, all mine

cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4.2k

tags: jealous!cooper, sort-of alternate timeline (includes a fo4 character for fun), partners-with-benefits, mutual yearning, light angst, fingering, oral sex, one pussy slap, come marking

prompt: something where he's possessive and jealous. anything that would cause a man like The Ghoul to get jealous. He needs to remind everyone (including her) who she belongs to.

Cooper doesn’t take kindly to the man you picked up, even if he himself had made the deal to escort him to New Vegas. Not liking their old-world charm, that easy smile. Can’t be up to any good, and he hates that you might be falling for it.

It has him thinking that he just might have to remind you of a few things. Set you straight. Make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.

You can’t help the little laugh that bubbles in your throat, as you follow through the door at Cooper’s heels.

Seeking shelter for the night, after a long day on the road. Something different than the usual bounty. Escorting a man through the Mojave Wasteland, to New Vegas. Following another lead, they had said.

He had seemed capable enough, but didn’t know the area. His home was far to the east, not used to the harsh desert sun, the creatures that lurked here. A heavy bag of caps offered that neither one of you could say no to. Enough to buy a couple months worth of vials, and that meant more to you than anything.

“No shit. It really worked?” You glance back at the man from over your shoulder. The handle of your gun a familiar weight in your hand, as you check the hallways after your partner, “You really were him, costume and everything?”

“The Silver Shroud, in the flesh.” Nate flashes you a straight, white-toothed smile, “Calling cards and everything.”

Your head shakes in amazement. He was interesting - full of stories that didn’t seem possible to be true. Leader of the Minutemen. A retired veteran from before - or so he tells you.

Hard to believe such a thing could be true. It has you distracted - your boot catching on an overturned side table, a set of chairs.

A little yelp as you tilt off-balance. The Ghoul turning, a gloved hand stretching out out - but there’s already another at the small of your back, another at your elbow.

“Careful now, sugarbomb.” Nate huffs in your ear, steadying you until you catch your balance.

It has heat flaring in your cheeks - at his words and how you embarrassed yourself in front of both of them. Ignoring the hand, and winding yourself free, giving the mess of furniture a wide berth instead of stepping over as they did.

“Did you hear about him on the radio?” You ask Cooper instead, trying to change the subject.

Instead of an answer, the Ghoul gives you a rough grunt. Turning away from you, fingers tracing over the thick bullets lined up in his bandolier.

“Gonna sweep the second floor.” He rasps, “Stay put, alright?”

He must not have heard you, too busy concentrating on clearing the space.

You nod, a little flutter in your belly at his words as he leaves you. A hint of protection in them, layered deep. He hadn’t spoken much since he picked up this job. Eyes always watchful, fingers curled around the handle of his gun.

But you didn’t think there was anything too dangerous about Nate. He seemed nice - filling the space that you leave for him with his stories. The days traveling has been spent quickly, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry when you hear how he’d lost everything.

His wife, and his son. Waking up after it was all over - alone.

You wonder how he could press on, be so cheerful now. But you suppose someone could learn to shoulder a lot, after so many years had passed.

It has you shivering, in the old apartment. Thick brick walls - the radiators are long dead, the cold seeping through the cracks in the window panes.

“Hey.” You hear behind you. Nate’s shoulders flexing as he peels his leather bomber jacket off, fingers hooking under the collar as he holds it out to you.

The worn vault suit underneath clings tight to his chest. Silver threading through his dark hair, peppering his beard at the curve of his chin. Handsome, in an old-world way - something you haven’t been able to help noticing.

Not that you’re interested.

It’s only because he makes you think of him, a little. The same strange way of saying things. Phrases you don’t know from your time growing up in the wasteland.

And you can’t pretend you haven’t wondered, just a tiny bit. What Cooper might have been like, before.

Part of you had thought that would make them a little more friendly - that point of connection between them - but the Ghoul has been wrapped up in thorns for days now.

Distant even, but you think you get it. Suppose he thinks it’s safer, this way.

“Oh,” It takes you a second to accept his offering. Not used to generosity without a price. A soft sigh when you shrug it on - the fabric warmed by his body heat, “Thank you. Are you sure? It’s just, these old buildings-”

“This is almost warm compared to where I come from,” He smiles, shooting you a wink, “Least I can do, with what you’re doing for me.”

There’s a sweep of his eyes, as your hands slip through the sleeves - a considering tilt of his head, “Looks better on you, anyways.”

The compliment sends an uneasy ripple across your skin, a warm heat in your cheeks. His easy charm sets you on edge - not used to words and tones like his. Not knowing what to do with it - your eyes flicking towards the staircase.

There’s a pause, before he’s inhaling a breath.

“Listen. About your… associate,” Nate takes a step towards you, his voice lowering, “I don’t know if you owe him caps or something, but if you need to split, you’re welcome to come with me.”

It stuns you for a second. How he thinks you might need help, that you’re indebted.

“Oh!” You manage - that eye contact breaking, as you search for words, “I’m not. We’re actually, uh-”

But you don’t have a straight answer. Involved, perhaps. You wouldn’t say together, as much as you wished it would be. Companions is too soft a word for the path you travel together.

His word - associate - too formal.

“Really?” Nate’s voice tips up - just before his eyes dip down you and back up, in a quick circuit, “Huh. Good for him, then.”

The silence that lingers is stilted. His hands raise, with the lift of your brow.

“Didn’t mean any harm,” Nate replies easily, “Just, if you change your mind… it’d be good to have you on the road with me.”

Leaving you then - letting the offer hang as he pokes around in the side rooms.

Another thing that you had found fascinating - the junk that he carries with him. Not just old tape but bottles of adhesive, cans of oil. Broken hot plates, all tucked into his bag.

Your head shakes, as you move deeper.

Winding your way into the kitchen, picking through broken cabinets - snatching up cans of cram. Ending up in a study, through another door.

Books spill from the shelves. There’s an old, deep desk bumped up near a wall, the upholstered chair toppled over next to it.

A few of the novels catch your eye - nose dipping to inhale the familiar, musty smell of the pages as you crouch. Thumbing through them, trying to pick one or two to keep.

Engrossed enough that you don’t hear the creak of boots on wood. The low jangle of spurs, until the door is closing shut behind you.

There’s a slow, upward pull of your eyes, until you see the way he looms over you - eyes narrowing. A hard set to his jaw, a hand that curls around your bicep as he tugs you up and onto your feet.

“Something wrong?” You ask, as you catch the pull of his brow bone, “With the house, is it safe?”

“House’s fine,” He grits. A hand tracing up the zipper of the jacket, curling around the collar.

The frown deepens, as his eyes drag over you, “You take this off the Vaultie?”

Your eyebrows raise, “I didn’t take it off him. He gave it to me because I was cold.”

He clicks his tongue at that, one side of his lip curling. Stepping into your space, until you’re bumping up against that desk.

“Can’t leave you alone for a goddamn minute.” Cooper growls.

Fingers tracing up your sides until they’re fitting beneath the fabric at your shoulders, pushing the worn leather from them.

“What do you mean?” You frown - letting him. The evening chill isn’t so bad in here, the room tucked deeper into the house. No windows to let the evening air in.

“You know exactly what I mean, sugarbomb.” He drawls, acid in his tone, “Smoothie can’t keep his hands off you, can he?”

The jacket pools on the desk, a flick of his wrist sending it to the floor. You don’t know why the Ghoul is so angry - not when he’s made it clear this something between you is just a diversion.

Nothing more than business mixing with pleasure.

“It’s not like that.” You protest, though your mind flickers back to before. Cheeks burning as you shift back, but follows - crowding you, “He’s looking for his son.”

It has your hip pressing against a desk, his own fitting against yours. Hands flattening against the top of the desk, as he leans over you.

“Lookin’ to get his dick wet, more like.” His words are a low growl, “‘Sides, is that all it takes you get you starry-eyed? Fella lookin’ for his kid?”

There’s something in the way he says it. A tick in his jaw, the way his tone pushes at you. Needling deep, as if there’s something more to what he’s saying.

Your arms prop on your hips, “I’m not starry-eyed-”

“Aren’t you?” His head cocks, “You gonna be keepin’ his bedroll warm tonight, sweetheart?”

There’s mockery in his tone. A curl of his lip and bared teeth, all while his eyes catalog each and every expression.

Your hands press against his chest then, scoffing. Yes, Nate had flirted with you. Said you could come with him, but surely that wasn’t the reason why.

Was it?

“That’s ridiculous,” It comes out flustered, unconvincing, “He was married, he’s not-”

The Ghoul shifts, his hands fitting against your hips. Pushing, until you’re sitting on top of the desk, thighs spread so he can fit between them. Distracting you, though his look is no less fierce.

“That don’t mean much, sweetie,” He growls, “Key word here is was. Not gonna keep him from tryin’, I’ll tell you that much.”

And you think you get it now. His raised hackles from the very beginning, when Nate’s hand curled around yours.

Maybe he’d burn right up, if he had heard your conversation. You wonder if he caught any - drifting up through the floorboards. Sending him right down to you, to stake his claim.

It has you softening. Fingers hooking around the thick leather of his belt, tugging him flush.

“He can try all he wants, cowboy,” You shrug, looking at him from beneath your lashes, “It’s not gonna sway me. Was just being nice because he was.”

“Nice.” He echos, as his hands slip up to your waist. Fingers curling in the folds of your shirt, rocking you against him, “That what you think you want, sweetheart?”

There’s the dip of his head, and your eyes are closing. But he just hovers, close enough that you can feel the exhale of his breath. A jerk of his head when your chin tips up, seeking him.

“You think nice is gonna take care of you the way I do?” His hand drifts up - fitting at the curve of your ribs. Thumb brushing at your breast, as you suck in a breath.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, as your eyes open. A shiver at how close he is, how his crotch presses right against the seam of your pants.

His answer is a low rasp.

“Reminding you of a couple o’ things.”

There’s a familiarity in the way his other hand dips down. Those hazel eyes are still on yours, as he gives the button on your pants a sharp tug. A soft slide of the zipper.

Your fingers curl, holding on tightly. Anticipation sings in you, melding with the sharp flutter of nerves.

“W-We can’t,” It comes out as a stammer - your concentration torn. “He’s still-”

The Ghoul’s hand leaves you, but it’s only so his teeth can sink into the tip of a leather glove - the jerk of his head to pull his hand free. Already coming back to you, giving the fabric of your pants a sharp jerk downwards.

“‘s cute you think I give a shit.” He husks - his eyes dark, as he jerks his chin towards your hips.

They seem to move on their own. A hum of approval as they lift - so he can tug both layers down to your ankles, leaving them to tangle with your boots.

His hands are warm as they trace back up your bare thighs. Soothing the chill - forever warmed by the radiation that lingers in him. Your thighs spread wider without thought, though his fingers linger.

Tracing the soft skin, just where your thigh meets hip. Close enough that surely he can feel the heat that lingers there - the scrape of his nails against sensitive skin sending up goosebumps, as his tongue pinches between teeth.

Eyes caught on how easily you open for him. The way you clench in anticipation, shifting into his touch.

Another protesting whimper falls from your lips, the ghost of a smile as his eyes flip up to yours.

“You’re gonna tell me you don’t want this,” His thumb twitches against you, ghosting along your slit, “When I can see you practically droolin’ for me?”

He lifts his hand for emphasis, casually examining the sheen that coats the pad of his thumb. Head cocked as he waits - dragging it slowly along the flat of his tongue.

“I do want it,” It’s hushed, though no less needy.

His tongue peeks out again. Pinched between teeth, before ghosting across a lower lip - the taste of you lingering. You expect him to bend you over the table, or lay you back against it.

Instead, his fingers pluck the hat from his head. Dropping it onto yours, the brim distorting your view as he bends. Crouching - his left knee pressing into the floorboards, as he situates himself between your thighs.

It has your breath hitching. Another exploration of his fingers, thumb pressing against your folds. Tugging you open, examining you, just like he’d do for a piece of found scrap.

Heat floods through you. There’s no mistaking that he’s still calling every shot, even when he’s on his knees.

“Then answer my question.” His voice takes on a sharp edge, those eyes back on yours, “You think he could give you what you need?”

From here, you can see the pretty fan of his eyelashes. The flecks of gold and green in his brown eyes, each little pitted scar and shiny stretch of skin.

Your head shakes.

“No.” Your thighs inch wider - hips bucking into his touch, “Only you, Cooper.”

He growls at the sound of his name, his hand coming to cup against your cunt. Fingers insistent, where they nudge at your opening. The tips of two sinking into your heat, ripping a muffled gasp from you.

A low hum, when he feels how wet you are. How you wrap so warm and tightly around him - an obscene sound as he presses them deep.

Unable to hide how he affects you, not when the pace picks up, until the heel of his hand is grinding against your clit. Until you’re dripping against his palm.

Your moan is bitten back. Fingers curling around the edge of the desk, needing something to hold onto.

His pace is steady, but he’s just teasing. Fingers merely filling you, stretching you out. No careful curl - just bringing you to hover on a plateau, leaving you to clench around him with desperation.

“Please,” You whine.

Relief then, as his fingers hook. Dragging against your spongy inner wall, as you whimper in approval.

“Yeah?” He hums - watching how your brows pinch, when his fingers flex again, “Change your mind about gettin’ fucked, honey?”

Teeth clicking together with your bitten-back whine, needing to feel more than just the unhurried crook of his fingers.

“Yes. I need more,” Your hips lift with your answer - bucking into his touch, “Need your cock, Cooper. I’ve missed it-”

A dirty trick, to use his name again.

To beg, like this.

He knows it, a heartbeat lingering before his fingers begin to move with purpose. The tilt of his head, and then - his tongue is flattening against your slit. Giving you something else, instead.

You cry out before you remember where you are - your hand quick to press against your mouth to muffle the sound.

He groans at the taste of you, as it floods his tongue. A dark glitter in his eyes, you think he did this on purpose. Trying to pull those sounds from you.

This thought solidified as he begins to devour you. Licking you from clit to hole, dipping between his knuckles. Working the muscle in until he can feel you clench around it too, his own groan caught in his throat. Coming back up - lips wrapping around the tight bud as you gasp, nails biting into wood as you moan.

Ones you still try to hide. Your breath sharp through your nose, palm pressed flat against your mouth. But it doesn’t stop the squeak of the desk as your hips move. The sticky plunge of his fingers, the wet lap of his tongue.

Something molten pooling inside you, red-hot. He knows how much you can take, how the stretch of his fingers slips into something honey-sweet.

His head rears back, as his eyes open. A sharp click of his tongue, before his left hand curls like a vice around your wrist. Capturing the other - fingers spreading wide as he pins them against your belly.

A smirk that grows wider - more sinister - when you realize you won’t be able to hide your sounds any longer. When all you can do is accept what he gives you.

“Oh, don’t hold back, sweetheart.” He coos - a rough breath, as he sees your jaw grit, eyes screwing shut, “Want him to hear just what I’m doin to you.”

A tilt of his head - slow in the way he returns to you. A pointed thrust of his fingers, another one slipping into you. Tongue flicking lazily, before spit is pooling on his tongue.

Pressing his fingers deep, as it falls from his lips. Dripping down your slit, before he’s sucking on your clit again.

The keen that pulls from you is loud. Drawn-out, your breath hissed through your teeth.

He grins into your cunt, the words murmured against your skin, “That’s more like it. Atta girl.”

Taking, as he gives.

Guilt lingers in you - thinking about Nate, wandering in the house. Hearing the muted moans and cries as you’re devoured against the desk. It has your lips pressing harder together, though it does nothing to mute the pleasure that winds higher and higher.

But he notices. Of course he does - fingers slipping free, curling against your clit before he’s pinching it between his fingertips. Teeth nipping at your inner thighs, marks blooming against your skin.

Another cry loosens, as your hips jerk.

“Now I know you want my cock, sweetheart. Asked for it so nicely, after all,” He husks, as his head tips up, “But you’re not gettin’ it till later.”

A threat and a promise, layered in the heavy pant of his breath.

“Plan on takin’ you by the fire. From three feet away, if I have to,” His smile is near-feral, “Let him hear how pretty your pussy sounds taking me. Knowin’ he can’t touch.”

You moan at his words. At the pet of his fingers - each breath short, growing louder as he brings you close to the edge. Keyed up enough over the past few days - leaving you desperate.

And you think that maybe - he just might be as well. It’s there in the way his shoulders curl in. The spread and rock of his own thighs, where you can see the tent of his hard cock.

That desire to make you come tipping into something that feels like need.

“You know why he can’t?” He coaxes, his words a slow drawl.

His fingers flattening when you’re slow to answer - pleasure-drunk, landing a harsh tap against your cunt that has you gasping in shock.

“Because…” You search for the words, grasping at their hazy shapes, “Because I’m yours.”

It comes so easily, the things you’ve thought but never said.

His knees shift, hips tilting on their own. A rough sound in his throat, as he watches how your lips form the words.

“That’s right,” Cooper coos, “Good fuckin’ girl. Knowing who she belongs to.”

It does something to you. That desire blooming into something tangible, racing from your thoughts to the needy throb of your clit.

He can hear the change in your breath. How it pitches high, drawn out. No longer holding it back - unable to, as your vision starts to go hazy.

“You liked that, sweetheart? Knowin’ that you’re owned?” He rasps, “Fuckin’ close, aren’t you. Gonna come?”

“Yes,” You chant, “Make me come. Cooper, please-”

His hand leaves your wrists - your palms curling into his jacket as he loosens his own belt. Fist wrapping around his cock as his tongue replaces the swirl of his fingers.

A whine - loud, in the quiet room - when those three fingers sink deep again, filling you. Only a few deep plunges of of his fingers before your breath is catching, eyes going wide.

The cry catches in your throat, coming out ragged. Unmistakable for anything else, as your pussy tightens around him - that thudding beat that starts low, rippling through you.

Pulsing against his tongue. Stealing your strength, leaving you boneless as your fingers anchor themselves against his shoulders.

He groans into your cunt, as he feels you gush against his palm. The way he can taste your release as it leaks against his knuckles, his tongue dipping down to taste.

Greedy again, with his gaze. Fixed on how wrecked you are - rumpled clothes, how you’re still speared on his fingers, thighs slick with need.

No one else can ruin you so thoroughly. You both know it - it’s enough that he lets go, chasing his own end. An unsteady push to his feet, as his fingers slip free.

His other hand flattening against your abdomen, pushing you back against the desk. A messy twist of his fist, seeing the gape his fingers left behind - that tension twisting, about to snap in his own belly.

His cock is coated in your release, when he comes. A feral snarl as his fist jerks - harkening back to your first few nights together. Back when he held back from spilling inside you, the vials too precious to spend on a stranger.

Fingers twitching against your belly, keeping you pinned as his own moan slips through his teeth. A needy buck of his hips into the tight curl of his hand, a cruel mockery of where he imagines it buried. But it’s enough - another rough sound before ropes of his spend arc across your mound.

Warm against your skin, as he covers you. Dripping down against your slit when he angles himself, making a mess of your slick pussy.

It already has anticipation simmering, deep inside. Unsure if he was being serious about later - but the thought of him taking you nice and slow, drawing it out - you might not be able to ever look Nate in the eye, but christ, it could be worth it.

Though something hangs heavy, as he comes back down. His head lowers from where it tipped back in pleasure. The slow drag of the tip of a finger through his release, glossy against your skin, before he finds the hem of your underwear. Tugging it back into place as you whine in protest.

“Hush, now.” He coos - stroking you over the thin fabric. Seeing how his come seeps in. A teasing circle against your clit, before his palm presses flush. Smearing himself against your cunt.

Staking a claim, you think. He’s always let you clean up before. And this isn’t a punishment, though the wait will be torture.

Fingers smooth the faded fabric when he’s content, his radiation-reddened fingers fitting against the soft curves of your hips.

And, maybe now you understand.

“I’m not going to leave you, you know.”

It’s quiet, breathed out as you gaze up at him.

He almost flinches. A different kind of shudder that runs through him, fingers pinching hard where they dent your flesh.

“You should,” His jaw grits. Voice low, the words coming out hoarse, “If you had any sense.”

But you both know you have none. Not when it comes to him.

Your hands fit in his, as he tugs you off the table. The snug fit of your pants as you tug them back into place, already feeling how he sticks against your skin.

Thoroughly marked. Unable to help the clench as you think about later - missing the fullness of his fingers already. A wobble to your legs - a hazy remnant from your orgasm - as you right yourself, fitting everything back into its place. Before stooping, to grab the jacket off the floor.

Cooper’s hand reaches out - fingers beckoning. His own duster already shrugging off his shoulders. Bundled up, as he holds it aloft.

“You get cold again, you tell me.”

It’s gruff. An offering, with the extension of his hand. Swapping the bomber jacket for his. The worn fabric enveloping you as you tug it on, that greedy look seeping back as he takes in how you look in his things.

A little nod, before he’s turning - making for the door.

Leaving you to follow behind, hiding your smile.

this started a couple different ways (flirting with a bounty or with a bartender) but I thought it would be interesting to have Cooper in a situation with a genuinely good guy (Nate is the MMC in FO4 if you choose his route!) because that would surely and truly drive him nuts (rip what a couple to join up with) 💖 thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you

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awakenedevildays · 3 days

Text

「bleachers and interruptions」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

You can find the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"For how long are you planning to stare at her, Donaldson?" Tashi approaches Art while he is busy looking at you in the stands, a book in your hand as you wait "for Tashi" to finish her training.

"w-what?" he detaches his eyes from you and your friend wants to laugh at the deer-caught-in-headlights look on his face, a clean tennis shirt in his hands waiting to be worn.

Tashi stands in front of him, the smirk on her face growing wider by the second, her hands on her hips "Donaldson, I can smell your desperation from miles away" he avoids her gaze and turns around to take off his shirt and put it in his tennis bag along his racket, but Tashi stands in front of him again "she told me about what happened at the beach" she adds and smirks, Art stops in his tracks at that 'fuck, she knows' he takes advantage of slipping on his unstained t-shirt to hide his red cheeks from your best friend.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about you and Patrick, Tash?" his eyes look down to fix his shirt that looks so ruffled to him right now, "don't worry about me and Patrick, but I have to worry about you two idiots for obvious reasons" Art looks at her confused and waits for her to explain.

Tashi moves her hand up to pat his shoulder, her smirk fading away and giving way to a small smile.

"She's a wonderful person you know? She deserves all the love in the world and I know you've got plenty to give... so don't keep her on the hook for too long" she takes her bag.

"What do you mean?" He frowns, keeping you on the hook? he tought you had changed your mind, considering you didn't approach him not even once after the night at the beach.

Tashi takes one glance at you, and then back to the blond in front of her.

"She's waiting for you to make a move, Art. She's really shy and not really good at these kind of things..." Tashi's gaze flickers at you again... "If she wasn't interested you think she would have come to watch you almost every training day?".

He wants to laugh at that, 'she didn't look shy at the beach' he thinks but doesn't say it out loud "she comes here for me? I thought she's here to see you!" he exclaims.

Tashi can't stop the smile forming on her lips at his outburst, the disbelief in his voice clear as day.

"You can't be that naive, can you?" Tashi teases, her tone lighthearted now, having gone from teasing to trying to comfort him. "Sure, some days she might come here for me, but it's mostly for you, I can assure you, I'm just an added bonus" Tashi concludes and Art feels so stupid, he should've at least tried to talk to you.

"oh..."

Tashi sees his expression change slightly, realization beginning to dawn on him, so she rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder, smiling at him knowingly "don't beat yourself up too much about it, Art. It's never too late to fix your mistake. Believe me, she's really into you... but Art, there are few people I care about more than I care about tennis, and Y/N is one of them, if you hurt her in any way-" Tashi pushes her index finger into his chest, her grin growing devious once again, "-I'll castrate you, then you definitely won't be able to charm her anymore with only your stupid blond curls, understood?" "yes m'am." he answers immediately.

Tashi laughs, finding his quick response both amusing and endearing, her hand moving to ruffle his blond hair. "That's more like it, Donaldson. Keep her safe and you won't have too worry about keeping your body intact. I'm sure you're more than capable of that"

Tashi goes to the changing rooms and Art turns around towards you again, only to see you already looking at him and he smiles widely, now that he knows you didn't change your mind about him, and that's surprising considering the story he told you, he feels like he can actually talk to you without blushing like the teenager he still is.

You blush slightly as he looks at you, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your heart skips a beat when he flashes that winning smile of his. How he was able to be both endearing and incredibly handsome at the same time was beyond you, but the sight of his bright blue eyes and the way his blonde hair was swept to the side from the light wind was enough to make your breath hitch.

His hand goes up in greeting and you wave back, book now closed and he sign for you to stay there as he walks out of the tennis camp, his steps fast almost in a run and you laugh 'he is so cute' you think. A few minutes later he is next to you on the bleachers.

As he approaches, you can't help but look carefully at his face, a bead of sweat running down his temple form the training he just finished, you curse internally as you feel yourself growing a bit hotter when his arm flexes to let his tennis bag fall on the ground next to him.

Art sits down next to you, taking a moment to catch his breath before turning to you, a cheeky grin on his face.

"hey"

"hi..."

You both giggle for realizing how awkward this moment is.

Art runs his hand through his hair, trying to tame the damp strands and make himself look at least a little bit presentable. "Sorry for this" he pauses for a moment, a smirk coming to his lips, "although I think you kinda like it" you laugh 'fuck, he noticed'.

"Oh shut up, I didn't come here for you" you lie, your cheeks slightly red in fear of being caught "oh, really? a little bird told me otherwise..." he suggests and you would really like the ground to open and swallow you, you bite your lips "I'm going to kill her" you mumble under your breath and Art laughs as he sits down next to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He gazes intently at you, a slight smirk on his lips, "please don't, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her" you frown at his words and seeing your confused expression he keeps going.

"I thought you weren't interested in me anymore, after that night" his smile is sheepish, "the next day, when you and Tashi came to watch the final between me and Patrick you didn't talk to me at all and... I don't know, I felt like I fucked up" his hand goes through his hair, a bit embarrassed to reveal his insecurities to you so soon and you want to slap yourself "Art... no you got it all wrong".

Art blinks in confusion for a moment, his expression changing into a mixture of surprise and relief "so you weren't avoiding me?" he asks, turning his head to peer closely into your eyes, searching for any sign to confirm his words.

"No! well, yes... but it's not cause I wasn't interested in you, the total opposite actually, I'm really bad at these things I didn't know what to do or say" you admit and play around with the cover of the book still on your lap.

Art couldn't help but laugh a little bit at your confession, "If it's any consolation, I think you're doing just fine right now."

He pauses for a moment, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his blue eyes shining with warmth.

"You could've just told me then, you know?" and he could have done that too.

"I know... I'm sorry" you whine hiding your face in your hands and he rests his left hand on the back of your chair, his body facing you while he waits for you to look at him again "don't be, I could have tried harder too" he comforts you and you look at him again, a sweet smile on his face.

You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling the tension start to dissipate between you "guess we both messed up then" you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at the realization of just how much time you wasted because of your mutual shyness.

"But we stil have time to solve this, if you want to, of course" you're nodding even before he can finish the sentence.

Art can't contain his excitement as he sees you enthusiastically nodding your head. He lifts his hand and rests his palm on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin "I take that as a yes, then?" he asks, a playful smile on his lips, the thumb on your cheek now tracing the outline of your lips.

"mh-mh" you say unconsciously your eyes locked in his.

Art continues tracing his thumb across your lips, his touch light and almost teasing, feeling your gaze on him, he lifts his eyes to look into yours, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You look so cute when you're all blushing and flustered" he whispers, leaning a bit closer to your face.

"You talk like you're not in the same position as I am" Art laughs softly, his breath mingling with yours, he leans in closer, the smile on his lips widening as he sees you start to fidget slightly.

"Not like it's a bad thing though, right?" he whispers, his hand moving from your cheek to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head up slightly.

"absolutely not" you whisper and just when your lips are about to touch a voice interrupts the moment "Hey! the camps are closing you have to get out" the coach calls out with a small smirk and Art turns around to look at him embarrassed, ears and cheeks red "sorry coach! we're leaving".

The coach gives a knowing chuckle before heading out again, leaving you and Art to recover from the interruption.

You can't help but feel a twinge of frustration at the coach's interruption, ok, that was embarrassing you put your book back into your bag before sliding it on your shoulder.

Art lets out a small sigh before reluctantly getting up from the bench helping you too by grabbing your hand "sorry about that, the coach has the worst timing" he wants to strangle him, really.

"Don't worry, he is right" you say and he starts to guide you towards the stairs to get out.

Art feels his muscles relax as soon as the cool night breeze hits his skin, he's still hot and sweaty from the training, he glances at you "that was a good session, wasn't it? even with the interruption" he jokes as he looks around, noticing the sun slowly setting behind the trees, lighting the sky in a beautiful shade of pink and orange.

"you did good, I really like to watch you ad Tashi play" you ignore his real intentions and decide to talk about the training itself, you really like to tease him.

Art can't help but let out a small laugh at your response "so that is the only reason why you come to see our trainings? To watch me play?" he quips, his tone light and teasing as he nudges you slightly with his shoulder.

"I already told you Donaldson, I come to see Tashi play, not for you" you taunt again and Art shakes his head in false disbelief, his tone still playful and light "right, how could I forget. Just for Tashi, of course".

He playfully rolls his eyes, his shoulder slightly touching yours as you walk next to him.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but you can't compete with her" and Art stops on his track a fake shocked expression on his face and you tug on his hand still connected to yours to walk through the campus and towards the dorms.

Art puts a hand over his heart and lets out a mock gasp. "How could you" he says before starting to follow you again, a cheeky smile on his lips as he glances in your direction.

As you both make your way towards the dorms, Art can't help but feel contentment at the sight of your hands connected together, swinging naturally alongside you while you walk. You two stay in comfortable silence until you are in front of your dorm room and your hand detaches from his to grab your key, Art stands behind you, hands in his shorts pockets as he waits for you to turn back to him.

You unlock the door, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you turn to face him again. Art is still standing close, his eyes fixed on you with a warm smile on his handsome features, he takes a step closer, now leaning against the wall next to your door.

The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle glow on him, his blond hair slightly disheveled and he looks so incredibly handsome that you find your breath hitching in your throat

'what should I do now?' you ask yourself as you smile at him, but before you could open your mouth to speak, he does first "not that I don't like to meet you like this, but what would you think about a date? with me, of course" he mentally facepalms himself, 'was it really necessary to add that?' Art feels a faint blush color his cheeks as you laugh at his awkward addition.

He rubs the back of his neck, still smiling sheepishly "sorry, I just wanted to be clear about it, didn't want you to think I was planning a date between you and Tashi" he jokes as he lets out a small laugh of his own, the embarrassment fading away as he sees that you don't seem to mind his blunder.

"But yes, I would love to take you on a date" he says with a more confident tone, his eyes shimmering with excitement at the thought.

"I would love to" Art is filled with contentment as he sees your excitement. He runs his hand through his hair a small smile forms on his lips as he gazes at you, his blue eyes shining with happiness.

"How about tomorrow night? There's this nice restaurant near that I've been wanting to try" he suggests, his voice filled with nerves but anticipation as well.

"Tomorrow is great" you step closer when you see Art bending towards you "good, I'll pick you up tomorrow night at seven" you nod.

As you confirm the time for your date, he can't help but smile wider, the excitement coursing through his veins, he gazes into your eyes for a moment, savoring the anticipation building between you.

"I can't wait" he whispers, his voice filled with excitement and a hint of nerves, leaning closer and placing a soft kiss on your forehead "I'll see you tomorrow" "goodnight, Art".

As you watch Art, his handsome features bathed in the soft light of the hallway, he smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Goodnight" he says softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he sees you close the door slower than necessary, as if you don't want the moment to end just yet.

"Sweet dreams" he whispers after you close the door, shoulders lighter now that he finally has a real chance with you and the smile on his face doesn't leave until he is asleep in his bed.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers

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pendarling · 2 days

Text

You're not Jealous?

"Who?" Hero asked again and tilted their head awkwardly.

Villain's hands danced in the air in a mocking gesture, "You know, that newer hero with the bright red hair." They chuckled, "Isn't that strange?"

The media loved it when civilians made Villain and Reddi a new couple; they hadn't known Reddi for long, and they had only left a small impression on them, nothing like what Hero was to them but enough to capture the civilian's interest. Enough to make them a pair and proudly display it wherever the internet's influence could spread, and for Villain, this would be a perfect opportunity to get their Hero's blood boiling. However, it seemed that jealousy wasn't on the list of emotions Hero could display.

"Well?" Villain egged.

Hero shrugged, almost confused at how to respond. Were they too angry to properly convey their emotions or too ashamed that they held feelings for someone they weren't supposed to? Did they have any of those feelings at all? It was hard to assume when it came to Hero. Their expressions never gave way to a proper answer, and the response desired didn't appear. Maybe Hero wasn't looking at it from their perspective, but for Villain, this was Hero's only chance to prove what they had always believed.

"I don't know, Villain. The world has a funny way of twisting things. Congratulations, I suppose."

Congratulations?

What?

Villain laughed in a sudden burst of spontaneity, "No, no, no, I don't even know Reddi like that. It's a comical way of sorting two people together."

They smiled back softly, uncertain of what to make of the topic. Just a moment ago, they had been sparring like usual, but Villain's sudden shift to this conversation did make them think for a bit.

Villain couldn't decide what was next, they wanted Hero to get angry, but this wasn't what they planned. Reddi was a lot stronger than Hero in all aspects, but it wasn't as if Villain valued just physical strength and they'd hoped Hero would get the message by now.

For Hero, it would just seem so pointless to fight about it. "I'm not one for starting an argument about that if that's what you're suggesting." They tucked a strand of hair, slightly fiddling with it as a distraction. If Villain wanted to, they would. Hero has seen everything they're capable of, and they wouldn't hold them back from any new interests.

"Hero, I'm…" They took a breath, a little startled at the lack of care. "I'm not one for these ridiculous rumours either, but wouldn't it be a little more sensible if they had at least chosen a more… fitting partner for me?"

"Well, let's not take these things too seriously. They don't know you after all--"

"It's a bit frustrating, though," They stepped closer. How was Hero not angry yet? Does nothing stir them? "I would be pretty frustrated after being a villain for years, and they still can't seem to get anything right."

"Villain--"

"If it was the other way around, I wouldn't take it."

Hero remained silent this time, contemplating whether they were supposed to respond or not. Villain had never been so openly passionate about a topic concerning civilian speculations about their city's greatest heroes and villains. "What's wrong, Villain?"

Villain's brows furrowed, and their breath slowed. It was the first time they had felt their heart race so much at something so trivial. Perhaps they really were blowing this way out of proportion. "Because you were supposed to…" Their pulse beat so loud it was heard in their ear. Villain thought they might've just fainted. "I just need to know we didn't do all this for nothing."

It was hard putting words together, a lot harder than planning any deadly plan to undermine the entire city. What Villain kept out was their desire to be chased. Any hint at all from Hero at this point would suffice, just to prove to them that their advances wouldn't go unanswered for too long and that there would be an eventual end goal. However, Hero wasn't budging; their eyes looked sorrowful this time, and their fists were uncurled. Villain slowly moved to reach for their hand, hesitant but still searching for the version of Hero they'd assembled throughout their interactions.

"It's strange isn't it?" They spoke softer this time; Villain stared longingly into their eyes. "That I'm the one feeling this way instead of you."

Hero sighed as they felt their fingers cross with Villain's. "You wanted me to get all worked up over you." They smiled gently at them; a mix of new expressions patterned their face as their tongue battled to keep the secrets they'd been harbouring down their throat. "What would I do to stop you anyway?"

"What?" They breathed a bit startled at Hero's words. "Why wouldn't you?"

"I've seen your work a million times, Villain." They chuckled, their voice edging a certain forcefulness. "You're very thorough with what you do and how to get what you want. If you wanted something, you'd already have it by now."

The sun started to hide its rays behind the clouds, and Villain felt their adversary's hand slipping away from their grasp. "Some things are just harder to get." They said as their grip tightened with desperation.

"Some things preferred they'd ask nicely," They gazed at them with a timid look. "Without the games."

Villain eyed them further as their voice fell into a whisper. "Some things are harder to say." Though, they didn't think it would take long for Hero to have them all figured out by now.

Hero reached over to them and held the criminal's face in their hands with expectation. "Then show me." They leaned in and met Villain's lips in the middle, an uneasy shift, now fixated in its spot.

~~~ MASTERLIST

TAG LIST: @books-are-everything, @kurai-hono-blog, @iykyunho, @marvellousdaisy, @m3rakii, @crow-with-a-typewriter, @sceirlose, @90scliche, @wondergoddess475, @miaowmelodie, @jeremy-no, @smallville1x10, @artsandstoriesandstuff, @whatwhump, @0eggdealer

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#writing prompt #imagine your otp #pining prompts #enemies to lovers #villain x hero #hero x villain #heroxvillain #villainxhero #jealousy dialogues #jealousy prompts #jealousy dialogue #unrequited love prompts

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 2 days

Note

Again, a scene from Adam got redeemed.

Yay Sera is a bitch again.. She’s here to make sure the winners are doing great. (lie)

Sera: Morningstar, can we talk?

Lucifer, sighing: What is it Sera?

Sera: In private I meant. Do you-

Lucifer: Follow me.

Sera: But-

Lucifer: This is my place Sera. I get to decide.

Sera: Okay.

They go to an empty bedroom, the tension is high.

Lucifer: So?

Sera: I must mention that I am impressed by Mrs. Morningstar’s work. How much souls she saved is-

Lucifer: Get to the point. Why are you taking my time?

Sera, annoyed, dropping the formal kindness: Fine. I am here because I have heard that you were keeping a soul here where he should be a winner by now.

Dread fills Lucifer.

Sera wouldn’t bother for Husk. It could only mean one thing.

No.

Clinging to a last piece of hope, Lucifer asks: Well who is it and who-

Sera: Don’t act like you don’t know. I’m here for Adam. Speaking of here, why IS he here anyway? Shouldn’t he be with us, don’t you think?

Lucifer (He’d put that bitch in her place if he had the chance but this was a serious matter): I-

Sera: Oh sorry, I forgot how you tricked him into selling his soul to you.

Lucifer: I didn’t trick him! I offered him my protection when you guys didn’t care enough to do it yourselves!

Sera: And why was that? Right, you wanted to break his heart and punish him yourself instead.

Lucifer: HOW DARE YOU!

A silence fills the room for a really small while.

Sera: Anyway. I’m here to request his soul back.

Lucifer: What makes you think you can?

Sera: I have my reason. *Summons a shiny paper, Lucifer’s eyes widen.* Hazbin Hotel and Heaven Council Official Contract Article 13: Hazbin Hotel Redemption and Rehabilitation Center, promises to do anything in it’s power to make sure all the souls they redeem and rehabilitate safely ascends to Heaven. If they are not currently capable of doing so, they will not be blamed. However, if they are purposedly holding a soul in Hell, and if it’s proven true by objective Heaven authorities, the Heaven Council will give them a limited one week period time to release the soul. If they insist on keeping the soul in Hell, Heaven Council has every right to shut Hazbin Hotel down.

Sera *smiles*: Your daughter had to be more careful about what she was signing.

Lucifer: You wouldn’t dare.

Sera: I would. And for a fact, I know you wouldn’t dare taking this to the court and let Adam know you kept him here like an obsessive maniac.

Sera comes closer to the frozen demon, angrily whispering: We showed you enough patience, Lucifer. It’s been almost a month since Emily told you about this. So, *opens the door* if I don’t see him infront of those gates in three days, your daughter can say goodbye to this place, her dream and her people.

Then she leaves.

Dw it has a good ending.

Lucifer better bitch slap her LOL OR I'LL DO IT MYSELF.

What if Adam doesn't want to go back to heaven anymore? What if he views Lucifer taking him to the gates as him abandoning him again 😭

GIRL THERE BETTER BE A HAPPY ENDING THIS HURT MY FEELINGS.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask #sera is a bitch

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hyperactively-me · 17 hours

Text

regency era!ghost x reader au (part 7)

One evening, as you and Simon glided across the dance floor, lost in each other’s eyes, you couldn’t help but notice the envious glances and hushed whispers that followed in your wake.

“How on earth did those two end up together?” “By the look of it, the Duke should be proposing any day now.” “I think I deserve to be Duchess more than she does.”

“You know,” you say slowly as you twirl gracefully, “you’re making quite the spectacle of yourself, Simon. People are starting to talk.”

He chuckles, his grip tightening around your waist. “Let them talk.”

He has to bite his tongue to restrain himself from continuing with, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I’m yours, you’re mine, and I’m not about to let anyone forget it.

You smile, feeling a rush of affection and amusement. “You really don’t care, do you?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice.

He shakes his head, a serious expression on his face. “Not in the slightest. As long as I have you, nothing else matters.”

You laugh softly, leaning into him. “You’re incorrigible, Simon.”

God, the way you make his name sound so pretty. He might faint.

After the dance, Simon pulls you away from the crowd and onto a balcony, the soft hum of the party fading into the background. With the way his hands feel on you, you can’t seem to care that you’re unsupervised and alone with a man.

The cool night air is a welcome respite from the warmth of the ballroom. You shiver slightly, hugging yourself to keep warm. Immediately, Simon shrugs off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders to ward off the chill.

“Thank you,” you murmur, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

He nods, his eyes lingering on your face. He loves the way your makeup highlights your features, the way you style your hair. He loves the way you stand up for yourself, the way you speak your mind without a care in the world. He loves the way you look so small compared to him, the way your dress accentuates your frame perfectly. He loves how passionate you are about the things you love, the way you make him feel. And—

"You know," he begins, his voice low and intimate, "there was a time when I thought I would never be capable of feeling this way about anyone, let alone you."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Oh? And what way might that be, Simon?”

He smiles, a genuine, tender expression that warms you to your very core. "In love," he admits softly. "Completely and utterly in love."

For a moment, you're stunned into silence, your heart pounding in your chest. The sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability in his voice—it's everything you had hoped for, yet never dared to believe.

"You— you love me?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nods solemnly, taking your hand in his.

"With all my heart, every fiber of my being,” he replies, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I know I've hurt you in the past, and I can never truly erase those mistakes. But I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you'll let me."

Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them away, squeezing his hand tightly. "Oh, Simon," you breathe, "I never thought I'd hear you say those words. But now that I have, I love you too. Despite everything, I love you."

A radiant smile you’ve never seen from Simon spreads across his face, and he leans closer, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he whispers lowly, "May I kiss you?"

Your breath catches, heart racing at the proximity of his face to yours. You can see every lineament, every tiny wrinkle, every light freckle that dots his face. You notice the details of his scars, the way his nose is slightly crooked. He squeezes your hand, bringing you back.

“You... you mustn’t,” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s highly improper.”

Who are you kidding? You want this as much as he wants it.

Simon doesn’t immediately release your hand. Instead, he turns it over and places a soft kiss on the inside of your covered wrist.

“You might cause a scandal,” you say weakly, your resolve thinning with each passing second.

Simon chuckles, low and quiet. “A scandal, you say? Perhaps it’s time I gave the ton something truly scandalous to talk about.”

You swallow thickly, heat rushing up your neck. “And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?”

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Marry me.”

The world seems to stop as his words sink in. You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of jest, but all you find is sincerity and love.

“Simon,” you breathe, your heart pounding. “Are you serious?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been,” he replies, his gaze unwavering. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you every single day. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

A whirlwind of emotions sweeps through you—joy, love, and a hint of disbelief. You’ve always known that your relationship with Simon was special, but to hear him propose, to see the depth of his feelings laid bare, is almost overwhelming.

“Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “Yes, I will marry you.”

The words have barely left your lips before Simon's expression transforms, an unrestrained joy lighting up his face. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you entirely.

“May I kiss you?”

You finally nod slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as anticipation builds. Simon cups your face gently with both of his rough, calloused hands, his touch hot and reassuring. He hesitates for just a heartbeat, savoring the moment, before he closes the distance between you. His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, then more assured as he feels you respond.

The kiss is tender at first, tentative, as if he's savoring every moment. You can feel the depth of his feelings in the way he kisses you, the way his hands cradle your face as if you are something precious and irreplaceable. It’s filled with the promise of all the unspoken words and emotions that have been building between you. It’s a kiss that feels like redemption, second chances, and the beginning of a future that you both long for.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. He groans ever so quietly as you pull at him. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, a quickened rhythm that mirrors your own. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation, every worry and doubt melting away.

When you finally pull back, both of you breathless and slightly dazed, Simon rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. "I've dreamed of this moment," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “For so long.”

You smile, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.

"You're mine," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with wonder and certainty. "And I'm yours."

"Always," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness.

As you stand there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that whatever the future holds, you’ll face it together. And that is more than enough.

part 6 < > part 8 (finale)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme #*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley

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raynesbunny · 2 days

Text

WHAT MAKES THEM EMBARRASSED?

Mashle headcanon!

💌: GN!reader, fluff

⚠️: Ooc and maybe cringe, slight suggestive on Orter's part?

Requested by: @rainee-da

Characters: Orter Madl, Rayne Ames, Abyss Razor

Others: Guess who's back! I was thinking of finishing all the short stories before going back, though— but I don't want to keep you guys waiting! I'll feel very bad if I do so｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡ Angst Rayne A. x reader coming soon! Still fixing a lot of errors<33 Enjoy reading, pookies!(≧▽≦) (this is my first time writing a headcanon so please do leave a message if there are errors!)

—

Orter Màdl

♡ It's almost impossible to make this man feel embarrassed; he hardly shows any expressions regardless of what others do—always wearing a straight and serious face! Many have attempted to make him laugh and smile, but their efforts have always been in vain, no matter how much they've tried. It almost seemed like expressing emotions is against the rules to him!

♡ And then there's you, his dearest, his partner, his beloved, his darling, his sweetheart, his sunshine, his angel, his lover, the one who melted his icy heart and kept it warm—the only one capable of evoking emotions within him that he never thought he would experience someday. (although, this rule-obsessed man cannot bring himself to admit it openly!)

♡ If there's one thing that can make Orter feel embarrassed, it would be your unexpected, sneaky and quick yet soft kisses and pecks!

♡ Whenever you peck his cheek, his brain momentarily stops functioning, and his heart flutters. His body freezes (and a faint blush is visible on his cheeks) at the touch of your soft lips against his skin.

♡ Your innocent and delicate feathered kisses drives him wild, but he would never dare to utter a word about his longing for more of those adorable little kisses!

Extra:

♡ Today was another busy day for the young man, Orter Màdl. Well— busier than usual that he had forgotten to bring his lunch with him.

And here you are, now in his office to deliver the homemade lunch to your hard-working lover, along with an encouraging letter you poured your heart into creating!

Upon noticing your presence, Orter averted his gaze from his work and looked up at your approaching figure with a small bag in your hand.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"You forgot your lunch at home, and I won't allow my man to work with an empty stomach, so I decided to bring it here to you," you replied.

Orter remained silent, choosing to turn his focus back to his paperwork. However, his shoulders seemed more relaxed now, and his facial expression had softened. That sight alone was enough for you to know that he was grateful, and he doesn't need to express it through words or pay you back.

(The pile of paperwork on his desk bothered you. You seriously wanted to help, but this stubborn boyfriend of yours would not let you, and you were left with no choice.)

(Last time, you tried helping him, but it only ended up with you wrapped in his sand magic.)

"Here's your lunch, by the way. Don't forget to eat it at lunchtime," you said, placing the small bag with his lunchbox inside on his desk. When you heard no answer, you glanced at him, seeing that he was focused on his work.

This seemed to be the perfect time to take the chance and sneak a kiss.

As your lips were about to reach his cheek, Orter turned around (on purpose), causing your lips to meet his instead.

You were about to pull away immediately, only for the desert cane to grab your wrists, pin you down on his desk and deepen the kiss, preventing you from moving and keeping the kiss from breaking. Leaving you breathless and blushing, a flustered mess.

—

Rayne Ames

♡ Just like the rule-obsessed divine visionary, he's often cold and serious. But believe me when I say that he isn't cruel! He's just having a hard time expressing that he actually cares for the people, especially those whom he's fond of, interested in, and of course- you.

♡ Speaking of you, you are his everything. He'd do anything to keep you safe, make you feel loved, respected, and comforted! Even with his busy schedule, he'll find a way to prioritize you, no matter what. (You matter the most in his life, aside from his rabbits and Finn, of course he'll prioritize those who are important to him.) Though, there are times that he must attend to his duties first, but he'll be sure to make it up to you! It just takes some time, and hopefully you'll understand.

♡ And when I say you're his everything, I mean; you're his joy, his comfort, his warmth, his flower, his world, his dream, his reason to smile, his strength, his motivation, his star, his light—

♡ If there is something that makes this man embarrassed, it's the way you know or understand what he wants (sometimes mentioning it) and letting him know that you have given him your consent!

♡ He will hesitate at first, but will give in as soon as he knows that you are certain. Like those days where he was staring down at your lips with a troubled expression, and this will never go unnoticed by you.

♡ You held yourself back from laughing, it was truly an adorable and amusing sight!

♡ You would press your forehead against his, your lips parting to mutter the words that you have given him your consent.

♡ Rayne's face would turn bright red, his gaze snapping to you with a look of embarrassment. He cannot believe he got caught again!

♡ You chuckled at the expression on his face, but your laughter died down when Rayne immediately brought his lips to meet yours in a gentle yet firm kiss, the contact sending a warm shiver down your spine.

Extra:

♡ You were playing with Rayne's pet rabbits in your shared room, wearing the comfortable rabbit hoodie that matched with your boyfriend but in your favorite color.

"There! All done!" You chirped and stroked Usao's fluffy fur, staring at all the rabbits decorated with ribbons in awe.

"[Name.]"

At the sound of his voice calling your name, you turned around to face him. Once you did, you're met with himself close to you, the sudden closeness making your eyes widen in surprise and confusion. "Is something the matter?"

(It was hard reading him this time, not even a single clue was visible! Is he doing this on purpose?)

Said boyfriend shook his head before gently taking your hand in his, caressing it tenderly.

He closed his eyes and brought your hand up to his lips for him to place a soft and long kiss.

The kiss lasted for a while and it took you some time to process what just happened. When you did, you found yourself stunned and flustered.

—

Abyss Razor

♡ Believe when I say THAT THIS MAN GETS ALL FLUSTERED WITH EVERYTHING YOU DO. (You were just too much for his heart to handle, he might explode in embarrassment.)

♡ Even the simplest, smallest things you do, like getting close to him, holding his hand, or even a gentle poke on the cheek, headpats, or your compliments, cause him to freeze in embarrassment or leave him trembling and a stuttering mess. (Even your smile and voice!)

♡ The last time this happened was when you were combing his hair and you stopped when you caught a whiff of the scent of his hair.

You drew closer to him, hoping to smell that pleasant fragrance again.

"Say, Abyss, what shampoo do you use?"

♡ He responded with silence, you were just too close to him! Close enough that his brain stopped functioning!

♡ Abyss.exe has stopped working.

♡ You are welcome to shower this lover of yours with affection, but please have mercy! He has zero experience when it comes to this! (Your affections for him might be the cause of his death /j)

♡ He is so adorable, please don't ever hurt him. Cherish him with all your heart, for goodness' sake! He deserves all the love and care.<33

Extra:

Your fingers brushed the silky strands of your lover's hair, tucking it behind his ear before clipping it with a ribbon. (I live for the coquettish display<33)

Once you were done, you gasped at the sight of your lover with his hair neatly down and a ribbon clipped in place.

"My goodness! You look beautiful, my love, as always!"

"Even with my cursed evil eye?"

"Nonsense! I find your evil eye unique and beautiful! Even with or without that, you will always be a beauty in my eyes, both on the outside and the inside!"

Just as he was about to respond, you gently placed your finger on his lips and embraced him, burying your face in his stomach.

"Hush! Don't even think of saying those words. Your cursed evil eye has nothing to do with who you are! You have done nothing wrong! If no one else will accept the whole of you aside from Abel, then I WILL. I do not care what that evil eye of yours will do to me, I am willing to embrace everything in you. I will always love you, even with all your flaws. Nothing and no one can change my mind and my heart—"

You stopped yourself from rambling when you felt a sudden drop of liquid fall on top of your head.

"Abyss?"

You sat up to check on him, only for panic to rush through you as your eyes met his face that is soaked with tears.

"Did I say something wrong? Please, don't cry and tell me what's wrong! It pains me to see you in tears!" (You might cry too /j)

Receiving no response from him, you were left with no choice but to embrace him in a hug, hoping that it could provide him solace.

Abyss wrapped his arms around you in return, his tears soaking the fabric on your shoulder. (Which you did not mind at all.)

He could never be more grateful than being accepted despite the flaws he bore, especially his very own evil eye.

—

I'll add a few more characters for this headcanon after writing the second angst I'm planning to write! I hope you enjoyed reading my first headcanon! Have a great, wonderful day or night, lovelies!💌

#💌.astria writes!#💌.astria's hcs!#mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames x reader #orter madl x reader #abyss razor x reader

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totowlff · 2 days

Text

chapter forty-seven — bounce back

➝ elisabeth share her thoughts with her father, who doesn't hold back

➝ word count: 1,8k

➝ warnings: mentions of death and emotional distress

➝ author’s note: a short one to celebrate that is not race week!

NOVEMBER, 2018

Elisabeth couldn't remember the last time she had watched a Formula 1 race away from the circuit, sitting in the comfort of a sofa. And she was sure her father didn't remember either.

Sitting next to her, Niki had his blue eyes fixed on the board. With his red cap on his head and his arms crossed, he seemed less than pleased with the overtake that Max Verstappen had just made over Lewis Hamilton. However, his expression, as well as his grumpy comments about the team's strategy, were secondary to Elisabeth.

It was unbelievable that he was still there.

After the treatment alternatives were exhausted and Doctor Idzko stated that Niki needed an urgent transplant within a week to have a chance of surviving, Elisabeth was unable to avoid the sadness that came over her. She didn't feel like going to the factory in England, much less attending the races in the circuits on her father's behalf. She just wanted to stay by Niki's side, taking care of him, trying to enjoy those last moments with him.

Until a phone call changed the course of Niki's situation. A donation of a pair of possibly compatible lungs rekindled hope in the whole family. The operation was carried out successfully on the first day of August and, fortunately, his body accepted the new organs well. His release from the hospital, just over two months later, marked what her father called his “third life”.

And he was making the most of it.

— What? — Niki grunted, looking sideways at her daughter.

— Nothing.

— You're looking at me with a strange face.

She just gave a small smile.

— Just enjoying your presence — Elisabeth replied, stretching her arm towards him — I missed you, you know?

The former driver took her hand affectionately, his thumb caressing her skin.

— Something told me you did.

— Was it my daily visits?

— No, in fact it was Toto.

Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

— He can't keep that mouth shut...

— In fact, when it comes to you, he's completely incapable — Niki murmured, his eyes shifting to the screen, where the radio transcript indicated that the Mercedes was preparing for a double pit stop. He pursed his lips as he watched the silver car with the number 77 stuck on its nose enter the pit straight, seeming to evaluate the choice made by the strategists.

A few seconds later, it was Lewis's turn to enter the pits, while Red Bull Racing's Max Verstappen increased his lead.

— They shouldn't have put these super soft ones...

— Why?

— Since the FIA ordered the holes in the wheels to be closed, this car has lost performance on these types of tires. The best thing was to start with the soft ones, like the Ferrari…

Looking at the leaderboard, Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.

— Not that they're better than us, right? — she commented, while the narrator spoke of Kimi Räikkönen and Sebastian Vettel's difficulty in remaining in second and third position, respectively — They still need to stop, don't they?

— That doesn't mean they're not capable of catching up to us, especially with worn-out tires — Niki muttered, looking at the screen.

She didn't say anything, after all, he was the one who knew everything about Formula 1 — at least from a technical point of view — and, in a way, that was what made them a good pair at the negotiating table. The memory of their last meeting together, in Brackley, made her smile.

However, it was short-lived, as a sharp kick towards the ribs made Elisabeth hiss.

— Any problem? — the ex-driver asked — Is that my granddaughter?

— You should stop with this granddaughter thing, you know? — she grunted, massaging the side of her belly in an attempt to move her child's foot away — And yes, it's the baby.

— I know it's a girl, Mauslein, there's no point in complaining — Niki said — Is she kicking you?

— More specifically my ribs — Elisabeth murmured, squeaking with the new kick. It was something she had noticed over the last few weeks and, according to her research and the app she was using, it was completely normal, but it was still uncomfortable, not to mention painful.

Her father slid across the couch, sitting closer to her. Then, placing one hand on her protruding belly, he began to caress it.

— You should give your mother a break, mausi — Niki said in the direction of her belly, while being watched by her daughter — Kicking her won't make you leave any faster, you know?

Elisabeth smiled a little.

— Maybe it would be better if it came soon, wouldn't it?

— Why?

— So you can meet it.

Niki frowned.

— She doesn't need to rush into this world. Until she's here, I'm not going anywhere.

There were a few seconds of hesitation, the race narration being the only sound that prevented the environment from falling into complete silence.

— I was scared — Elisabeth whispered.

— Of what?

— That you wouldn’t meet the baby.

The former pilot withdrew his hand, a skeptical expression on his face.

— Elisabeth — he said in a reprimanding tone.

— Dad, you were lying in a hospital bed, breathing on machines and with all the doctors telling you that you would only get out of there if a pair of lungs fell from the sky — she began to speak, her eyes wet — What do you imagine I would think?

— That you have no power to change my ending — Niki replied, dryly.

It hit her like a punch. Tears ran down her cheeks, thick and bitter.

— Dad…

— Elisabeth, you can't do anything about this. I'm going to die, it's a fact.

— But I wanted you to meet the baby…

— And what difference would it make if she met me?

She stared at him for long seconds, her lower lip trembling. Upon realizing that his daughter wasn't going to say anything, the former pilot let out a long sigh.

— I know I said I wanted to see you become a mother, but that doesn't mean I need to see it. You don't need me for that...

— I need it, dad! — Elisabeth exclaimed, gesturing with her hands — How am I going to be a mother without you?

— As far as I know, I've already done my part in this process, which was putting you into the world and raising you. From there, it's up to you, Mauslein.

— But who will help me…

— This child's father — her father cut her off — And, as far as I know, he had two other children before this, so he doesn't lack experience.

Elisabeth didn't dare look at Niki, feeling like a scolded kid.

— Tell me, do you remember your grandparents at any of your birthday parties? — he asked.

— No.

— Because they didn't go to them. Well, there was no way they could go, since when you were born, both my father and your mother's parents had already died. And it's okay, you didn't miss them at all...

— Didn't you miss it? — Elisabeth stammered.

— No, Mauslein. Because what you needed was me and your mother, not your grandmother. In fact, I don't think she would do anything much other than judge your brothers for riding motorbikes and you for not straightening your hair, so it was even better that way.

Feeling a kick from the baby, she looked at her belly wistfully, resting her hand on the curve formed under the dress she was wearing. Her father, as it always seemed, was right. She had grown up without her grandparents around and visits to the woman who had inspired her name could be counted on her fingers.

However, if her father wasn't interested in bringing his children closer to Mrs. Lauda, Elisabeth didn't think the same way. She wanted to have Niki around, she wanted him to create the bond that, even though he hadn't missed it, was still something special.

— You don't want to be around, then? — she asked softly.

Her father snorted.

— Is that what you understood, Elisabeth? — Niki returned, without waiting for a response to continue — What I want to say is that my granddaughter doesn't need me around, in the same way that you didn't need Ernst. But that doesn't mean I won't be around, on the contrary. Someone needs to make sure Toto doesn't spoil my granddaughter.

A shy smile appeared on her face.

— He won’t spoil it…

— He won't, I won't let him — the ex-pilot said, chuckling.

Running a hand over her cheek, Elisabeth wiped away the tear that was sitting there, before looking back at the television, where a Red Bull appeared to have had some trouble.

— And this is Max Verstappen, the leader of the race, he spun on the way down the hill — the narrator exclaimed, as the camera moved away, showing a pink Force India car — Did they make contact?

— I'm not sure what that Force India was trying to do at that point, as a straggler — the commentator said.

The onboard image confirmed that there had been a dispute between the Dutchman and the Frenchman, who seemed to want to fight for space on the track despite being one lap behind, in 16th position. While Verstappen cursed his gridmate over the radio, Elisabeth looked at her father with wide eyes.

— Do you think he will make it back?

— He'll probably just need to change the tires — Niki replied — But that's good for Lewis. Very good.

In fact, that was good. Good enough for the Mercedes stickered with the number 44 to cross the finish line first. The flag made Elisabeth squeal, clapping her hands excitedly while her father smiled proudly. Giving the former driver a hug, she kissed his cheek.

— Another title, dad — she said, smiling.

— And there are five, now! — Niki replied, before pointing to the television.

On the screen, Toto appeared celebrating effusively alongside Bradley. The scene filled Elisabeth's heart with warmth, a silly smile appearing on her lips. A smile of admiration for the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with.

— I think he did fine without us, don't you? — she asked, giving her father a mischievous look.

— Yes, it was.

— Hi, my world champion — she greeted him with a small smile.

— Hi, my love — the team principal replied, returning the smile — Another one for the shelf, did you see?

— I saw it, my father and I saw it — Elisabeth said, turning the cell phone slightly to the side so that Niki was on the screen. Her father tilted his head slightly before theatrically taking off his cap without saying a word. It wasn't like he needed it, since that gesture said it all.

He was satisfied with what he had seen.

— I hope the result lived up to your expectations, Mr. Lauda.

— Couldn't have done a better job, Toto.

— Thank you, Niki.

— Now, we have to continue working for the sixth. And this is going to be a challenge, my friend.

#wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x oc #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #scwlff #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff #formula one fanfic #formula one fic

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