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#this can be for any of my muses so if you have anything in mind let me know!
yeonban · 1 year
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Soma's bushido summed up:
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#muse: date soma.#That's one of Soma's canon quotes from 15 years ago btw... it's an embedded belief by present day#Naotora in his speech patterns: (flexible) want to. should [do x bc he feels it's a good idea].#Soma in his speech patterns: (rigid) have to. can't [do x bc it isn't smth that's allowed].#Not to say he doesn't /want/ to see a better world. He does. but the more idealistic version of him died over a decade ago#He wouldn't be pushed to keep going by just thinking that he 'wants' to do something or 'wants' to see something happen#what is 'want' in a society that represses individuality and calls for everyone to live for their nation/clan rather than themselves#'must' and 'have to' are firmer concepts that he can hold on to. it means there are /important/ things at stake if he doesn't follow thru#Ask Naotora what he wants and he's going to list off a hundred things as easily as he breathes#Ask Soma what he wants and he's going to stare at you like you've grown a second head bc wdym what he /wants/#Naotora is what he wants to be first and foremost. Soma is what he needs to be first and foremost.#It's why I'm so :') at his interactions w/ Seiroku bc he doesn't /have/ to be anything around him and that's a VERY novel feeling#Soma w/ his people: I'm their captain -> I must never show them weaknesses. I have to be an unshakeable stronghold#Soma w/ the grand generals: We're friends but also rivals -> I have to remain on my guard about their propositions & not show any weakness#Tsubasa's kind of an exception but EVEN W/ HER... Soma doesn't /fully/ let his guard down; altho it's mainly out of force of habit#He does trust her; and he does a lot of things she wants him to bc he has a soft spot for her & knows she doesn't mean him harm#but at the end of the day... ALL of the grand generals are competing against each other#there are only so many resources they can use (esp in this arc) and their duty; which comes first; is to ensure their own band's survival#so despite trusting Tsubasa; at the back of his mind he's prepared for the eventuality of her choosing the Tokugawa over their friendship#He cherishes his childhood friends but man is there a LOT of baggage and a very specific detachedness in his interactions w/ them#That for the better or for the worse aren't there (at least rn) in his interactions w/ Seiroku which allows Soma to Be Himself
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endlesscacophony · 2 years
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I’m such a BAD multimuse haver bc whenever someone’s like “pls specify muse!” I’m just UH YKNOW IT’S WHATEVER YOU WANT I DON’T MIND AT ALL - genuinely bc I don’t mind!! I’m good with anything!! i just wanna write with you!!
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miniimight · 1 month
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I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!
hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3
PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)
sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.
his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."
"you got there okay?" you asked.
"mhm."
"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."
"mhm."
"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"
"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."
he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.
your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."
"..." he looked down at his bike.
"ryo, baby?" you hummed.
"hm?"
"you did take the car, right?"
"..."
his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!
"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.
"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"
"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."
"..."
the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.
"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,
"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."
he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(
"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"
"yes... unfortunately."
he nodded. "we'll be home soon."
"in one piece?"
he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."
"hm." you huffed and hung up.
he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.
she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"
"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"
"for mama."
"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.
she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.
"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.
sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?
he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."
she turned up her nose. "stinky."
his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"
she looked at him as if it were obvious.
"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.
the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.
she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.
"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.
that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.
you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.
"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.
"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.
sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."
you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.
he sighed.
after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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surftrips · 5 months
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ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN
pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader
request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭
word count: 1.6k
a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍
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You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 
But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 
So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 
One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.
“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 
“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 
“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 
Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 
“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 
Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 
“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 
“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.
“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.
“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.
The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 
“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 
“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 
“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 
He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 
“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.
“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.
“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 
“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 
Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 
Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 
“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 
“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 
“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”
Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 
“Thank you!” Luke cut in.
“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 
That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 
Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 
Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  
In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.
You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 
“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 
Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.
After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 
Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 
“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 
“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 
“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 
“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 
Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 
“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.
“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 
By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 
As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 
Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 
“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 
Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 
“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”
He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 
“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 
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cowboylor · 3 months
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gold-skinned eager baby
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— the only thing that can bring charles down to earth after a race. charles leclerc x fem!reader (18+) oral (f. receiving), soft dom charles, (1) spank.
your sundress is hiked up to your waist before he sinks to his knees.
charles fists the floral pattern in his hand, snaking the other to hastily rub his fingers against you—quickly, without keeping rhythm in mind, anything to keep you whimpering into his neck.
“charles,” you’re saying between his rough kisses. “baby—”
you can't finish any thought when he gets like this. so stoic and eager to have his way with you that you can't help but abandon all words and let him spread your legs however he pleases.
when he finally trails past your navel and he's peering up at you from his knees, you're dry-mouthed and not sure where to put your hands.
“let me taste you,” he orders gruffly, using both hands to keep your dress above your panty line. your head falls back when you feel his breath waft over your clothed core. pressing his mouth against you, he murmurs, “open up for me, mon amour.”
you’re suppressing your moan through bitten lips, resisting the urge to press yourself deeper onto his face but trying to remain considerate.
“you—” you feel your eyelids involuntarily flutter when his nose nudges against your clit. “you don’t have to.”
your body shudders when you feel him chuckle against you, before moving to look you in the eye. you swallow roughly, staring back at his dark eyes that seem more blown out than usual.
“this,” his fingertips hook around the band of your underwear. “is for me.”
it becomes clear. pleasing you is always something charles has been able to control. something that he takes pride in—hearing the noise you make whenever he takes you over the edge is something he'll remember even after he forgets his own name. it's a constant. it can't be taken away by a bad qualifying session. and when would you ever deny him?
he’s quick with it; his calloused hands running up your thighs before gripping them tightly, pulling you against his mouth again. he presses a wet kiss against your swollen bud, murmuring incoherent praises into you until you’re whining and pulling his hair with nowhere to go but the wall behind you.
“charles,” you gasp his name like a prayer. “please.”
he hitches your leg over his shoulder, his mouth continuing to work against your cunt—drawing sloppy, figure eights with the tip of his tongue and glancing up at you for stolen looks at your fucked-out expression.
“right there,” you muse through bitten lips. “you’re good—you’re so good.”
your praise is met with a swift slap to the side of your thigh.
his muffled agreement against your cunt makes you stifle a smile and you have to resist the urge to tell him how good he is again. how good he is at everything he does and especially, how good he is at making you fall apart on his tongue.
“fucking—” he growls between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. “—soaking.”
you’re mewling, arching against the wall and as he holds your thighs apart. you just about melt when he peers up at you again, eyebrows knitted in frustration from everything else and desire for you. your mouth runs dry. his face is smothered against you before you could remind him how much you love him.
“come for me,” he groans into you—the vibration sending shocks down your spine. “come all over my mouth.”
there are not enough oh god's left in you by the time the heat in your lower stomach coils and you're tugging on his hair harshly. when his nose presses harshly into your clit as he lapping at your core, your thighs begin to shake.
when he pulls your sundress back down, he’s turning you around just as quickly. pressing you against the wall from behind, you gasp as he moves to press himself into you.
“you can take more, can’t you, cherie?” he’s muttering on the cusp of your ear. your eyes roll back because yes, yes—you would take everything he gave you in this moment. “be a good girl and take more for me, yes?”
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tidetfs · 2 months
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"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"
Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.
"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.
"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."
Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.
"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"
"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.
I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.
"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"
Max's eyes lit up.
"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"
Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.
I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.
"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."
I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."
"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."
I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.
"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."
The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.
"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.
I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.
"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."
I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.
"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"
I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.
"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.
I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.
"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"
"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."
Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.
"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"
"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."
"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"
Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."
I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.
"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"
"I can't..."
"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."
Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.
"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."
"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.
"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.
"Please, stop..."
"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."
"Wait, no, what are you doing?"
"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.
"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."
I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.
"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.
"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."
"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"
"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.
"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."
"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."
I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.
The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.
"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.
"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."
Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.
"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"
"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."
"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.
My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.
"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."
Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.
"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."
My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.
"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.
"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."
"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"
"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."
"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.
"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.
"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."
"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."
"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."
"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."
I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.
"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."
"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."
"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"
The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.
"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.
My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.
"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.
"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.
My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.
"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."
"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.
I was so turned on.
"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.
"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."
"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."
"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.
I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.
"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.
My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.
"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.
"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."
"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.
My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.
"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.
"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."
I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.
With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.
"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."
"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.
I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.
"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.
"I love you, dude." Max giggled.
"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."
"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."
"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
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just gonna put this here while its fresh in my mind but since lando has been wildin and wont stfu about OF... what if reader does OF 😏 faceless and lando makes a cameo once in a while😵‍💫😵‍💫 OKAY BYE WHY IS HE LIKE THIS LATELY
Your Biggest Fan || Ln4
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, masturbating, only fans WC: 1.3k
One || Two || SMAU || Three
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You were a solo act, that was your choice. Everyone who subscribed to your account knew the deal despite offers from some very big names in the industry - you were happy on your own - you couldn’t risk getting caught. Your parents would surely disown you, but you liked the danger that came with your side hustle. 
You could still remember the day he subscribed, top tier no less. The username was generic and he kept his camera turned off but that wasn’t unusual - you preferred to keep your face hidden too. A selection of toys lay across your bed and he hummed indecisively while he internally debated which one to watch you play with this time.
“If I was there, I know what I would do,” he mused, his voice dropping in a way that had your stomach flipping.
You settled amongst the pile of pillows surrounding you, keeping your face above the view of the camera, and teased your nipples while you patiently waited for his choice. “Yeah, what would you do to me?”
Your touch ran further down your body and you spread your legs for him. His breathing changed to slower, deeper intakes and you wished he had his camera on so you could see the effect you had on him. 
“Fuck, I would fill you so good, babygirl,” he groaned. “I would make you cum harder than any of those toys can. You don’t even have one big enough to stretch you like I could.”
Your pussy clenched at the threat and you grabbed the biggest dildo from the pile, running the tip through your slit. You moaned as you pressed it to your entrance and it slowly slid home, filling you completely as you pumped it all the way to the base. “This one stretches me pretty good, big boy.”
“Not as good as I could.”
“Brave words for someone who can’t prove it,” you dared. 
There was some shuffling before his camera lit up and half of your screen filled with a toned stomach, muscled thighs and a dick that put your toy to shame. You sat up straighter, wanting a closer look and salivated at the way he stroked himself, his thumb and fingers not even touching because of the girth.
“Fuck me,” you exhaled longingly.
“Don’t tempt me, babygirl.” He dragged his thumb through the bead of precum and his hand disappeared from view as he licked it clean, something you were completely jealous of. “Now turn around, I want to see you fuck yourself and pretend it’s me.”
You did as you were told, more than eager now that you had the image to use. You got on your hands and knees, reaching between your legs to pump the dildo in time to his strokes, moaning in unison at the sight. Wanting to give him the best show, you shimmied back so he had the best view of the silicone cock stretching your pussy.
“That’s it, come to daddy.” His filthy words surrounded you and your back arched as you fucked yourself for him. You were nearing your orgasm and the sight of his cum spilling over his fist and abs threw you into oblivion. His urging kept you going, even when your orgasm tried to squeeze the toy from your pussy, you kept stuffing it back in until the pressure grew too much and you fell panting to the bed, the blanket wet from the fluid that had gushed from you.
“Holy shit, babygirl, that was fucking amazing,” he praised as you struggled to catch your breath. “Fuck, I have to go. Same time next week?”
“Only if you have your camera on again, big boy,” you half joked, half wishing he would.
“For you, babygirl, of course,” he chuckled and wiped up his mess with a green and white shirt you were sure you had seen the logo for before. “I’m your biggest fan, I would do anything you said.”
“I’ll have to remember that, big boy. See you next week.”
You ended the feed and closed the site down for the night before cleaning up the toys and changing your bed sheets. You had never squirted like you had with L404 and you briefly wondered if you should invest in some waterproof bedding. 
It was late by the time you had showered and settled back into the fresh sheets but you weren’t able to sleep. With nothing better to do, you logged into Twitch and browsed the Just Chatting category for some white noise, eventually coming across a streamer with nearly 20k fellow viewers.
You were a little disappointed to see it wasn’t Just Chatting but playing Fortnite and you nearly left the stream. You weren’t interested in trying to sleep to the sound of gunfire. Before you could exit, you heard the voice. It was one you were intimate with, one that sent goosebumps prickling over your skin.
“Come to daddy,” Lando, that was his name, said. He laughed with his friends he was playing the game with and they joked while oblivious to the epiphany you were having. “Ohhh, doggy man.”
The handsome man in the tiny square of your screen was L404, your biggest fan. 
Hey big boy, you sent to the chat and watched it get swamped by the hundreds of other comments. 
“Ha, mate, someone called you big boy.”
Lando’s head snapped away from the game and he was quickly shot but he didn’t care as he scrolled through the chat to find your username. It was different enough that it wouldn’t be linked to your Only Fans but had enough similarities that he recognised the name. “Shit, I gotta go. Something’s come up.”
He logged off without a goodbye and the comments blew out with disappointment and questions.
Suddenly, your email pinged with a new message: L404 was requesting another private chat. 
“Hey big boy,” you answered as you sat up in bed, grateful you were wearing a cute lace babydoll nightie. “Back so soon?”
His camera was off but now that you had seen his face you could only imagine the confusion on it.  “Uh, did you…what you saw…did you…” 
You giggled at the loss of his confidence, such a stark change from how he was an hour ago. “You’ll have to finish your question for me to answer, Lando.”
“Fuck.” His camera came on and you had a much larger picture of him. He wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous. You desperately wanted to run your hands through his curls and tug on them, maybe while they were between your legs. “No one can know, please, it will ruin my career.”
Taking a deep breath, you tipped the camera back and looked him in the eyes. Realisation dawned on his face and his lips parted in shock. “Guess we both know each other’s secret now.”
“You…you’re…”
“Yup, that’s me.” Like most rich families, your parents had moved to Monaco for the tax haven it provided and you had fallen in love with the province too, opting to buy your own place in the city when you left home.
“So…” You bit your lip as the idea danced on your tongue and Lando remained in a state of shock. “I remember someone threatening to stretch a certain part of me…”
Lando swallowed deeply before licking his dry lips. “On camera?”
It was your turn to think before nodding. “If you’re up for it, I can make an exception to the rule. We might need to practice a few times, you know, compatibility wise.”
He nodded, the thought growing more and more interesting and he palmed his erection beneath the desk. “Practice sounds good. Tonight?”
The idea of sleep was long gone and your nipples were clearly visible through the lace, the stiff peaks begging for attention. “Come on then, big boy,” you teased as you sent him your address. “I’ll see you soon.”
Click here for part two.
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schrodingerscougar · 4 months
Text
Note: the 2nd part for this. fem!reader. cheating. i didn’t think you would like it so much, but since you did, here’s part two.
•••
Maybe if he watched you close enough, if he kept an eye on you while he was near, Simon would get the answers he was looking for. All he wanted was a glimpse into your mind, a glint in your eyes that would give away why you’d spent those nights by his side without saying anything about it.
The mission was slowly coming to an end, and he had overheard you and Johnny talk about your plans for your time home. The Scotsman offered to go on a short trip with you to Rome, visiting the city you’d read so much about in the past year or so. Going there was a promise you made to yourself on New Year’s Day and he was more than happy to help make it happen.
“Have you introduced her to your family?” Simon asked Johnny one evening when they went out for a drink.
The younger man gave him a confused look, but once the lieutenant motioned towards the corner of the bar where you were deep in a conversation with Laswell, his lips formed a flat line and he nodded a few times. “Yeah, well, I mentioned her once to my sister, and the next thing I know, my mother’s blowing up my phone. I’d rather keep her away from this insanity,” he explained.
“Wise choice.”
He hated this. He hated to know that Johnny was dating you, he hated to keep up this nice conversation with him, all while he was struggling to find out why you cared about him back then. His mind was full of stupid ideas again, that maybe you weren’t that deeply in love with the fellow sergeant. What if he was just your backup plan? What if the one you truly wanted was him?
Fucking hell. He was truly losing his grip.
“I’m going back to the base.”
Simon looked to the side, only to find you standing there with this adorable warm smile on your perfect, kissable lips. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Johnny taking your hand, his fingers lacing with yours before he raised it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on it.
He definitely didn’t have the right to be upset about it. Yet, he felt a pang of jealousy, and he was maybe even offended by the way Johnny’s blue eyes shined when he looked at you. His mind was telling him it should be him, even though he knew it was against the regulations.
“Let me finish my drink and I’ll walk you back,” Johnny said, but you just shook your head and told him he should take his time, have fun, and maybe he should talk to the others too. “You think I’m ignoring them? Well, I do spend a lot of time in the Lt’s company, that’s true,” he mused.
After he took a glance at the empty glass next to him, Simon had an idea. “I’m done for today anyway, I can go with her if you don’t want her to go alone,” he offered.
While Johnny seemed happy that he was kind enough to go with you, you looked hesitant. Unsure. Damn, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve said you looked scared for a moment. But why would you be scared? He didn’t do anything that could scare you.
In the end you agreed, so the two of you were soon out on the street, walking side by side. The need to reach out and take your hand poisoned Simon’s mind, and he decided to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. He glanced over at you every so often, enjoying the view that he wouldn’t see for a few weeks at least.
“Why did you stay by my side in the infirmary while I was recovering?” he suddenly asked, his eyes fixed on you to see your facial expression.
And sure enough, at first you looked shocked. “What do you mean?” you inquired innocently.
With a sigh, Simon came to a halt and grabbed your wrist to make you stop as well. “I saw you there. And the doctor confirmed that you spent every night there with me while I was knocked out.”
“Look, it’s—”
“Why? I need to know,” he pressed on.
You buried your fingers into your hair as you spinned on your heels to turn away from him. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to be alone,” you admitted.
Once he took a deep breath, he was quick to blow it out. “So you stayed out of pity?”
“No! I mean… God, Ghost, I don’t know, okay? It just didn’t feel right to let you lie there on your own, I didn’t want you to wake up alone, and—”
He shouldn’t have done it, but it felt so good. Because Simon launched forward, his big palm placed on the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. At first you were frozen from surprise, but then you returned his kiss, lips moving against each other in perfect sync. He had been waiting for this for so long that he couldn’t even believe it was happening.
He was only pulled back to reality by your voice after you pulled away and took a few steps away from him. “What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “Fuck, what the hell am I doing?”
“It’s okay, we can always pretend it never happened,” he said with an aching heart.
“You don’t get it, do you?” When Simon shrugged and shook his head, you walked back to him and poked his chest with your index finger. “I’m with Johnny, this is totally against the rules, and no matter how badly I always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you, this can’t happen again. But I know it happened and it’s going to torture me now.”
With a gulp, Simon nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he said with a sigh.
To his surprise, you put a hand on his now masked cheek, a move so gentle that he was beginning to get very confused. And when you pulled down his mask, things got even more confusing, because you stood on your toes and kissed him again. This time you let yourself go, your fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair as you moaned against his lips.
“We should get going,” you said once you let him go and pulled his mask back to its place.
“I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Instead of answering, you flashed a smile at him, making his life a living hell by playing an innocent angel. But then you curled your finger to make him come a little closer. “Neither do I. But we will have to figure it out.”
(part 3)
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helluvapoison · 4 months
Text
Make Me Weak
˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚
warnings: violence
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Everything you are she should abhor– and would if it was anyone else— so she doesn’t pretend to understand how you weave into her life so easily. That time is instead spent wondering how the fuck she’s survived both her hellish lives without you
• Velvette always felt she was owed the praise and compliments she got. Receiving them from you was an entirely different type of high to ride. Your candied tone and sickeningly sweet words clung to her like smoke and had her itching for more
• You massage her hands so she has no choice but to surrender her phone, only then does she realize how cramped they’ve become. You sit in her workshop during Hell Week, sending a mellowing wave that relaxes her chaos in the form of a simple thumbs up. You make up for not being on the receiving end of her camera by setting up aesthetic dates for her to capture instead
• Velvette captures your chin, “You put up with a lotta my shit, Dollface. I’m not great at sharing credit, but I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“But I didn’t do anything?”
“You’re my muse, baby. Gimme the word and I can have you on a billboard tonight. Fuck Joanne, the raggetty bitch, I’ll bump her and have you up there for all of Hell to see!”
Your smile falters to a grimace, your eyes telling her what she already knows. Vel doesn’t get why you hate the limelight. This conversation always ends one way and if she hears you say one bad thing about yourself, she’ll tear out her hair. With a sigh, she tucks you back under her arm and kisses the crown of your head
“Fine. I didn’t wanna share you anyways.”
Your light laugh makes her smile again
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Val does everything in his power not to allow you to witness one of his volatile moments. He has a very specific image of you in his mind and to a looser extent, you do too. You’re not prim or naive that you don’t know what he does, but his violent tendencies are something else to behold. You’re too sweet, too pure to completely join his world
• It’s never bothered him before, seeing that look on someone’s face. The one where their eyes go wide in horror because they know exactly what comes next but there’s no telling what would happen if the pedestal Val put you on crumbled because you saw him grabbing a whore by the neck and using them as an ashtray
• Truly, no indulgence he’s ever sampled has come close to taking the edge off him like one of your hugs. Softer than angel wings and more intoxicating than any elixir, you’re euphoria trapped in a sinner’s body
• “I almost feel bad for keeping you to myself,” Val purrs in your ear. He’s been laying underneath you for six minutes and already the shittiness of the day evaporated, “I could bottle and sell you. Make everyone in Hell as happy as I am.”
A nervous, bitter laugh escapes you
“You wouldn’t make much money, Val.”
“I would make millions, corazón” He argues seriously, though he has no intention of sharing you
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The irony is lost on him; someone as soft as you could bring him, an Overlord, to succumb. Below the surface, he’s more insecure than he lets on. He’s perfected the mask of a charming show host, developed it so well that it bleeds into his personality. So much so, that you make him glitch when he gets an inkling of self doubt. Your gentleness makes him weak and it terrifies him, fills him with the urge to push you away but your arms are so inviting that he lets himself be cradled by them. How could he do anything but?
• Rare are the days where he actually feels tired but those are the days he seeks out your affections. To him, you’re safe. You won’t judge him, you don’t pry for details, you’d never tell him to suck it up
• Vox lets himself sink into the couch beside you, tapping your thigh with a claw to invite you to come closer. You never fail to accept and deliver exactly what he needs. It’s bizarre how you know what he needs when he doesn’t himself. Turning to straddle him, you rest your head on his chest and hug him impossibly closer
• “You’re tense today,” You comment quietly, giving him a comforting squeeze.
“Come with me to set for once, you’ll find out why.”
Nuzzling into his chest as if trying to find his nonexistent heartbeat, you replied, “Nah. Sounds like too much of a hassle.”
“Exactly why I need you there.”
“Promise not to bring me on air like you’re always threatening to?”
A dry cackle escapes as he keeps his gaze towards the ceiling. Vox has this fanatical plan that you two could be the power couple of Hell, outranking Lucifer and Lilith (and lasting twice as long) if you would just sit at the same desk as him, deliver news and playful banter that would knock 666 News down a couple thousand pegs. You were worried someone wouldn’t want to see your face, you’d make his ratings plummet, you’d ruin everything he worked so hard to build. He hates when you spiral like that.
“No.” Vox mumbles honestly.
He’d prove you wrong like he’s done everyone else, one way or another
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satellite-evans · 8 days
Text
Caught in the Act
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Benedict and his wife, his muse, are interrupted by his mischievous sister Eloise during a private painting session.
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: fluff, Eloise being a tease
A/N:
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The Bridgerton residence was always buzzing with activity. Whether it was the younger siblings running through the halls or the older siblings preparing for yet another social event, there was never a dull moment. Amidst this lively chaos, Benedict Bridgerton found his moments of peace and creativity in his art studio, tucked away in a quiet corner of the estate.
It was in this sanctuary that he often invited you, his beloved wife and muse, to pose for him. Today was no different. The soft afternoon light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Benedict stood at his easel, his eyes intensely focused on the canvas before him. You reclined on a chaise lounge, draped in a delicate, nearly translucent gown that accentuated your natural grace and beauty.
"Benedict," you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety, "are you sure it's not too risky to do this here? Anyone could walk in."
He looked up from his work, his gaze tender as he regarded you. "We’ve done this before without any issues. Besides, the light in here is perfect, and you look absolutely stunning. Trust me, my love, everything will be fine."
You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, but if we get caught, I'm blaming you."
He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that always managed to calm your nerves. "Fair enough."
The room settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft swishing of Benedict's brush and the occasional rustle of your gown. You admired the way his brow furrowed in concentration, his hand moving with practiced ease. It was in these quiet moments that you felt closest to him, sharing a connection that went beyond words.
ust as he was about to add the finishing touches, the door to the studio burst open. Eloise Bridgerton, ever the inquisitive and outspoken sibling, strode in without a second thought.
"Benedict, have you seen—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. "Oh."
Benedict froze, his brush hovering in mid-air. You quickly pulled the shawl you had draped over your shoulders tighter, your cheeks flushing with mortification as you realized just how exposed you were.
"Eloise!" Benedict exclaimed, clearly flustered. "Ever heard of knocking?"
Eloise's shock quickly gave way to a mischievous grin. "I didn't realize I needed to knock in my own home. But now I see why I should."
You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. Benedict, on the other hand, looked equally embarrassed. He set his brush down and moved to stand protectively in front of you.
"Eloise, what do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I was looking for a book," she said, still grinning. "But I suppose it can wait."
Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, it can. Now, if you don't mind—"
"Oh, don't worry," Eloise interrupted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to your... art."
With that, she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click. You and Benedict stared at each other for a moment before you buried your face in your hands again.
"I can't believe that just happened," you groaned, your voice muffled.
Benedict gently pulled your hands away from your face, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm so sorry, my love. I should have been more careful."
"You think?" you replied, half-joking, half-serious. "I am never posing in this house again. That was mortifying."
Benedict hugged you tightly, his arms offering comfort. "I promise, next time we'll find somewhere more private. But you have to admit, it does make for a memorable story."
You couldn't help but laugh despite yourself. "I suppose so."
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Later that evening, the Bridgerton family gathered for an informal dinner. The aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of cheerful conversation and laughter. You sat beside Benedict, your hand resting comfortably on his under the table.
Eloise, ever the mischief-maker, caught your eye and winked. You felt a blush creep up your neck as you recalled the earlier incident. Benedict squeezed your hand reassuringly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin.
"So, Benedict," Eloise began, her voice dripping with innocent curiosity, "how's your latest painting coming along?"
Benedict shot her a warning glance, but she merely raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "It's coming along quite well, thank you," he replied evenly.
"Oh, I'm sure it's wonderful," Daphne chimed in, not noticing the undercurrent of the conversation. "Your work is always so impressive."
"Indeed," Anthony added, his tone more serious. "You've truly found your calling, brother."
Violet Bridgerton, ever the attentive matriarch, picked up on the tension. "Benedict, dear, you should show us your latest work soon."
Eloise leaned forward, her tone light and playful. "I suppose it's easier to be passionate when you have such a... captivating subject. Isn't that right, sister?"
You nearly choked on your wine, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I—um, well..."
Benedict shot Eloise a warning look. "That's enough, Eloise."
Eloise just smiled sweetly. "I'm only saying, you must find it very inspiring."
Violet's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Eloise, that is quite enough. Perhaps you should leave your brother and his wife in peace."
Colin, always quick to join in the fun, leaned back in his chair. "I'd love to see the painting. It must be quite the masterpiece if it has caused such a stir."
yacinth, always eager to be part of any conversation, piped up. "Can we see it, Benedict? Please?"
Gregory, not to be outdone by his younger sister, added, "Yes, show us! We promise to be quiet and not interrupt next time."
You buried your face in your hands again, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Oh my goodness," you murmured, mortified.
You truly never felt so embarrassed in your entire life.
The conversation shifted to other topics, and the rest of the family seemed unaware of the underlying tension. You couldn't help but steal glances at Benedict, admiring his composure. Despite the earlier embarrassment, you felt a deep sense of pride in being a part of his world.
After dinner, as the family dispersed, Benedict took your hand and led you outside to the garden. The night air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. He guided you to a secluded bench, where you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
"I'm sorry about Eloise earlier," he said quietly, his eyes searching yours.
You shook your head, smiling. "It's alright, Benedict. It was bound to happen sooner or later."
He chuckled softly. "True. Still, I wish we could have more moments just for us."
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "We will. And until then, I'll cherish every second we have together, even the interrupted ones."
Benedict turned to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. "You are my muse, my love. And I am forever grateful for you."
The moonlight cast a silvery glow over the garden, creating a perfect backdrop for the tender moment you shared. Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt an unspoken promise pass between you—a promise of love, support, and a future filled with countless more beautiful moments, whether they were stolen in secret or shared with the world.
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literaila · 4 months
Text
midnight happenings
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru wakes up and looks for you
warnings: references to things that none of us will understand (kidding), little angst, mostly fluff, nightmare and such
last part | next part
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*
year three
"satoru?" you whisper, blinded briefly by flashing white hair.
your door has been creaked open--like you usually keep it in the dead of the night--but the hallway light is on, illuminating the body in front of you like a ghost. 
you could be dreaming, still, but your head hurts from the sudden interruption, so you know you're not. 
he's like a monster lurking in the dark. waiting for a moment where you're vulnerable before he attacks. he's always been better at patience, remaining in one spot for a millennium, than you have. 
but still, you sit up, because you've never been afraid of him. you blink, trying to recognize his cobalt-aquamarine eyes in the dark. they are still so bright, it's a bit shocking. 
he inches closer, not saying a word. 
there is no smile on his face that you can see. no hint of mischief in his movements. usually, when he creeps into your bed this late, he's looking for something unobtainable. something you know he won't take and you won't give. 
but tonight his eyes are brief matches in the dark, lighting and flickering out, waiting for you to understand. 
and you do. 
"are you okay?" you whisper, not wanting to break the hesitation between you two. you don't know where it goes next, once that bubble pops. your voice is groggy and slightly dry.
"sorry," he responds, the only real answer you need. 
satoru doesn't apologize for anything except his sheer audacity. 
you sit up even further, flicking your light on. 
the both of you flinch at the intrusion of your lamp. but you don't look away from him, brows furrowing. "can't sleep?" you ask, instead. as if it will get you somewhere. 
he shakes his head. 
you watch him for a moment more, long and lanky in your room, his throat bobbing as he swallows. 
then you pat the space next to you, folding your legs underneath your body, trying to remember how to read him this early in the morning. 
satoru doesn't say anything, but he's quick to respond, crawling into bed next to you without a look at you. clearly, he doesn't want you to change your mind on this. 
it's the quickest you've seen him move in a week. 
you watch as he curls himself under the expensive bedsheets--ones he bought--probably scoffing at the color choice internally, but he doesn't look back. 
his eyes are stuck on the duvet like the pattern is going to jump out and attack him. 
you don't have a single thing to say. no question to ask to put the two of you at ease, no witty remark to keep you afloat when satoru seems to be dredging through the water. 
and still.
"you look tired." 
"yeah," he murmurs. 
"did you--" you shake your head. "did you finish the rest of the sesame cookies again? sugar rush?" 
his head lulls over to you, and there's a brief, anxious smile. "of course not," he says. 
"then why are you still awake?" 
"missed you. it's lonely in my room." 
"it's been..." you turn towards the clock. then back. "four hours." 
"too long." 
you smile, slightly, understanding this deflection better than anything else. "you're like the kids," you muse, "coming to cuddle in the middle of the night." 
"smart ones, those two." 
you lean closer to him, eyes falling to his hands, which are raking through the covers like he's going to discover that you've hidden something in them. you can almost see them shake. you swallow. "do you need to talk about something?" 
his eyes dart towards yours. "what? no." 
"okay." 
"do you need to talk about something?" 
you shake your head. "no. i'm good." 
"okay. good." 
you bite your lip as he looks away, focused again on any inanimate object you have in here. the floor, the ceiling, your dresser, or the bouquet he bought you rotting on it. you sit there, watching his hands trail over the sheets, his eyes flick over the walls, his mouth move like there's something stuck inside--something he can't quite say. 
so you do it for him. "i couldn't sleep, either." 
his brow raises. "i heard you snoring from across the hall." 
"i do not snore, satoru, please don't insinuate ridiculous things." 
his lip quirks. 
you sigh, making a show of rolling your eyes. "anyway, i get it. how come it's always so cold in this house?" 
"because you told me that i shouldn't install a different furnace in every room." 
you hum. "could've gone with a fireplace, though. some ambiance. spice this place up a little, you know?" 
"i don't think i'll be taking your interior design advice," satoru answers, looking at you--all of you, finally--his smile a slight thing. 
a hint at the boy you're used to, his frustrating demeanor. 
"another mistake you're making," you tease, smiling back. 
and you watch it--as his face shifts, momentarily, like 0.2 seconds is enough for him to process every emotion that's ever flooded through his body. his eyes dart away, his mouth folds, and satoru goes back in on himself. 
and you know it was the wrong thing to say. 
"hey," you whisper, words coming out before you think about them. "i like it here. even if it is cold." 
"yeah?" 
"yeah. with you and the kids. and this giant bed that serves no purpose for one person." 
"that's why i'm here," he says. 
"oh, of course." 
"have to make sure you're respecting all of the mattress space." 
"well, i wouldn't want the mattress to be unappreciated," you lean your shoulder against his, sighing when his head falls on yours, stepping stones leading to one another. "would i?" 
"you're welcome." 
"very observant, satoru." 
"it's the eyes." 
you laugh hard enough for him to feel it, for your body to shake against his--like it might ground him back to the world. pull him from the water and shake him off.
you don't quite know who this satoru is, because he's not really yours. but he's not the man who could wipe everything out in an instant, if he just wanted a little break. and he's not the man who's dealt with that alone, without any person to help, no one to ask any questions.
maybe he's a child, again. one you never got to meet. 
but it feels a little impossible. 
you swallow, after a moment. then you move your head back, shifting so you can properly look at him. "you sure you don't want to talk about it?" 
satoru looks back, his eyes an expanse of sky and pain, mirroring some parts of you. he doesn't shake his head, doesn't nod. "i..." he whispers, like an answer. 
"was it a nightmare?" 
this time, he nods. 
"i get them, too. sometimes." 
"yeah?" 
"why do you think i end up in tsumiki's bed every couple of nights?" 
"i thought that was a girl thing." 
you smile, leaning to nudge your forehead against his. "nah, tsumiki's just a good cuddler." 
"how 'bout megumi?" 
"please. i think he'd probably dislocate my shoulder in his sleep if i even tried. at least now that you showed him the hand-to-hand stuff i told you not to." 
satoru raises a brow. his eyes are close enough that you can feel his eyelashes fluttering. "everyone needs a little protection from ruthless midnight cuddlers." 
"who's going to protect me from you?" you ask.
this time, you get a full-blown grin. a satoru special, just for you. "no one," he says, "you're stuck with me." 
"don't i know it." 
you tilt your head back, remaining a couple of inches away, but breaking the contact. 
satoru watches. his eyes are so focused on yours, that it feels like some sort of manipulation. 
but you know it's not. 
or, at least, not any sort of manipulation he can control. you've dealt with satoru's sweet eyes and addicting smiles since you were a teenager, and there's no escape. 
"you know," you whisper, blinking rapidly, trying to fall away. "it helps to talk about it. sometimes. remind yourself that it's just a dream, and nothing more." 
satoru looks down, watching your lips as they move. he could be asleep with how still his face is. so unlike the usual expressions you dread to watch, the neverending shifts in behavior. the quirks and quips falling from his horrid mouth. 
"it's not..." he shakes his head, leaning back. "it's not really a dream." 
"what do you mean?" 
"it's--it's always things that have already happened. memories, i guess. it's not a nightmare." 
or maybe it is, goes unspoken. 
"oh." 
"so, i don't think... i mean, i can't wake up from real life, or whatever." 
your body stills. you want to tell him that if he talked about it, it might go away. that his memories are pushed so far back that they're intruding on reality. that he needs to let it go, let the past fade like a scar. still there, but unburdening. 
but you know that satoru won't listen. if you know anything about the man--anything from the seven years that you've spent with him, watching him react to the constant battle of living--it's that. 
he's not going to listen to you. he never does. and you shouldn't expect him to. not when he knows that you can't understand, that you never really will. 
still, the words rest on the tip of your tongue, like a dagger ready for the plunge. 
"it's okay, though," satoru shrugs, suddenly. brushing his entire existence off as if it's removable. "it's fine." 
"it's okay if it's not." 
he blinks. "i know," he says, almost defensively. "but it is." 
"okay." 
satoru swallows, his fingertips brushing on the bare skin of your leg. you haven't been this close to him for a couple of months, since he stopped coercing you into staying the night. it's strange, the environment of the two of you. an inadaptable habitat. 
"sorry," he whispers. 
"it's okay. it's fine." 
"okay." 
"i have nightmares about megumi a lot," you say, short. "he's always doing something stupid. something you would do." 
satoru tilts his head. "like what?" 
you roll your eyes. "forgetting to turn off the stove and setting us all on fire. drinking out of the milk carton. or bringing home a curse just because." 
"i only did that once. i wanted your opinion on something." 
"'do you think it's eyes are green or brown? maybe hazel?'" you mock, shaking your head. 
"it was a dire question," his lip quirks. 
you shake your head some more. "but when i wake up i always remember that megumi isn't stupid like you. he thinks things through." 
"hey," satoru chides, but he doesn't really care. 
"and sometimes," you say, again, even softer. "i have dreams about you. about you doing something stupid, like always, but..." 
the rest goes unsaid. it's not an idea that needs to be verbalized. not a belief you hold in the pit of your heart, a fear you've experienced too many times. 
satoru leans closer to you. "i know," he says, instead of an apology, or some type of comfort. "i get those too." 
so you wrap your arms around his shoulders, almost unconsciously, leaning in as you let satoru hold you up for a moment. like he's done all of those other late nights. you hug him close, unsure if you'll ever really break the distance between the two of you. 
but you can feel it as satoru's arms wrap around your waist, squeezing with you, differently than he usually does. his breath is soft against your head, a break in the dark. 
"i know," you whisper to him, an echo, and it should be enough. 
but you're not sure that it--that this, the proximity between the two of you--will ever be enough. 
that thought fades into the night, though, like every other sleep-deprived whisper you've shared with satoru. it won't be worth it to bring it up again in the morning. so you won't, and neither will he. 
but you'll hold him now. like a promise you can keep. 
*
when you wake up in the morning, your fingers are curled around satoru’s.
every part of you feels achy. like just being this close to him has infected you with another disease—some curse you won’t be able to shake off.
and you only realize this when two heads are standing above you, watching you closely.
“are you awake?” tsumiki asks you, like your eyes are not an indication of anything.
“doesnt that hurt?” megumi frowns, immediately after. “gojo is heavy.”
he’s referencing the man that’s partly on top of you, his mouth leaving a sure mark on the skin of your neck, breath hot and wet.
you blink rapidly, trying not to flush under the feeling of him there (literally under).
“you guys hungry?” you say, wincing at the sound of your own voice.
they both nod.
“okay, just—“ you sigh, hands raking through satoru’s hair. “gimme a minute to wake him up. go get your backpacks and i’ll make breakfast.”
tsumiki nods and steps back. megumi’s brows furrow at you. “we have to leave in thirty minutes.”
you roll your eyes. “i know, megs. i’m up.”
he shakes his head. “not you,” he nods. “don’t crush her. i have school.” he tells satoru, sternly, and then walks away, dragging tsumiki along and out of the room.
satoru, who’s eyes are wide and open, so close to yours that they are almost nothing.
“hey,” he whispers, grinning.
*
next part | series masterlist
a/n: for all of you that think i hate satoru, he's my baby
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sourlove · 26 days
Text
YANDERE ROCKSTAR HEADCANONS 🎸
TW: UNHEALTHY REALTIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF SUBSTANCES AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE, YANDERE THEMES
AN: Sorry for the wait, my darlings. enjoy <333
READ PART 1 HERE
Yandere!Rockstar who likes the way you look at him, like he hung the sun and the moon stars in the sky.
Yandere!Rockstar who has no choice but to take you along with the band, Jailbird, on tour. After all, what's an artist without his muse?
Yandere!Rockstar who never shows you off. He just doesn't anyone to get the opportunity to steal you away after all. You don't mind though. You're more than happy to play the role of his 'assistant' is that means you get to be close to your favorite musician.
Yandere!Rockstar who spoils you in private, fucking you into the mattress and leaving bruises that decorate your skin for days. He adores you, his little starlight, and whispers his love for you in the dead of the night.
Yandere!Rockstar who takes you out when the band is in a new city to new, interesting places. The two of you giggle together as you disguise him so you won't get mobbed by fans. It's risky, but it brings you closer.
Yandere!Rockstar who loves when you tell him how much you love him, and his music, and his body, like you worship him. It drives him crazy, the way you follow him around like you need him.
Yandere!Rockstar who rewards you when 'Y/N', becomes his most popular song yet. The band throws a small party when the numbers come in, and that night Axel kisses you in front of everyone for the first time. Everyone is cheering and laughing but the only one you care about looks at you, only you and tells you that he loves you.
"You're all I need, starlight. My little good luck charm."
Yandere!Rockstar who starts to be a little more open about your relationship. Now, he talks about his inspiration for 'Y/N' and it's connection to his first song, 'Starlight'. He talks about how he needed a single push with with both songs, the second push being you. He doesn't give all the details but it makes you feel warm inside. Axel had finally acknowledged you.
Yandere!Rockstar who no longer makes you pretend to be his assistant to avoid any questions. Now, he dresses you in designer clothes and everyone who knows you, knows you as Axel's girl, the Y/N.
Yandere!Rockstar who becomes even more famous all of a sudden, his music reaching corners of the world you would have never thought of. He can't take you everywhere anymore. It's too inconvenient, he says, to drag you all over the world. Just be a good girl and wait for him in the luxurious penthouse he bought you, okay?
Yandere!Rockstar who slowly starts getting more annoyed the more you ask him to come home. He's busier than he ever was before and has to get a new album ready while still on tour. You obviously don't know how difficult it is for him, since all you do is mope around all day and wait for him.
Yandere!Rockstar who buys a different house for himself when his tour eventually ends. It's just so the grand parties he throws don't bother your peace. But he spent so much time there it felt like he only came to your place when he wanted to change clothes and take a quick nap.
Yandere!Rockstar who buys you more clothes, more accessories and designer trash when you complain. How could you possibly want any more than this? The world is at your feet, you can have anything and everything you want. Everything, except him.
Yandere!Rockstar who didn't bat an eye when you left, too lost in the high of drugs and fame to care about his old girlfriend who was nothing like the models and celebrities he now had at his beck and call. Sure, you had a nice run, but all good things must come to an end, no? Lucky you, you even got a song named after you. You didn't feel so lucky. But you manage to pull yourself together and move on.
Yandere!Rockstar who starts to feel a bit off. He can't put his finger on it though. It bothers him when he gets to his penthouse and it's a mess from a party. It was never like that before. It used to smell like home cooking and fresh flowers. What changed?
Yandere!Rockstar who becomes restless. It's like he's constantly searching for something that used to be there, just in his peripheral, something he always had but never really noticed until it wasn't there anymore.
Yandere!Rockstar who can't write any more songs. It's like he can't string together a cohesive lyric anymore. His band, his manager, everyone gets frustrated with him because they don't understand. They don't understand that something is missing.
Yandere!Rockstar who feels so lonely. There's thousands of people who would give themselves to him if he so much as breathed in their direction. But no matter how much sex he has, how many fucked up, short lived relationships he enters, there's an empty void that nothing can fill.
Yandere!Rockstar who almost gives up. His music has no meaning now and he can't even mourn what would have been in the privacy of his own home. Because everyone, so oblivious to his turmoil, still wants to party with the star.
Yandere!Rockstar who, in a drunken tirade, turns to a model that keeps latching herself to him asks her what she thought of his music. She liked it all, of course. But what's your favorite song, he urges. She thinks for a while and finally mentions a popular song in one of his albums. It's good. A really good song. But Axel frowns and asks, what about Starlight?
Yandere!Rockstar who immediately remembers you. Sweet, loyal you. Because you would never scoff and dismiss Starlight as 'that cheesy song'. You knew how important it was. You were the first to hear the song and see it for what it really was, to see him for what he really was. Starlight, 'Y/N', every single song he had ever written was a love poem to you. The only problem with his new songs was that you were what was missing.
Yandere!Rockstar who got his manager to dig up your information, the woman would do anything to keep Jailbird up and running. Axel barely even thinks of the details or perhaps of what to say to you. All he wants is to see your face and for you to look at him like you always used to, like he was your everything.
Yandere!Rockstar who wanted, more than anything, to have you love him again. And this time, he swore he would never let you slip out of his grasp again.
FIND MY MASTERPOST AND ALL MY LINKS HERE
Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed. It took me a while to get inspo so I really hope you guys liked this.
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Text
Ride the Lightning
Pairing: EddiexFemReader
Request: I've read a lot of eddie fics, but I've never read a "sit on my face" fic. If you could write something about that, that would be great.😅
18+ Only
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"Sit on my face."
"Wh...what?" you mumbled, struggling to focus, your mind in a post orgasm haze after Eddie had worked your pussy with his fingers like a goddamn maestro until you were seeing stars. Your muscles were still trembling, tiny ripples underneath your skin.
"You're my princess," he mused, lying back, that mane of hair covering the pillow. He ran the palm of his hand over is face. "And this is your throne. So be a good girl and sit on my face."
Was he serious? Of course he was. Eddie never said anything he didn't mean. You were a bit hesitant, wondering if you would smother him, but you trusted Eddie. He'd opened you up to a lot of new things when it came to sex and you had yet to be disappointed.
"I'm waiting, sweetheart," he sang, raising his head, eyebrows lifted. "Why isn't that beautiful pussy on my face yet?"
"Uh...okay..." you agreed, crawling up his body. You placed one knee on either side of his head, hands gripping the headboard in an attempt to keep yourself from covering his nose and mouth. You had no idea how to do this but you didn't want to kill him.
"Princess, if you're going to sit on my face, then fucking sit and ride it. None of this hanging in mid-air bullshit. I'm not gonna suffocate, I promise. And if I do, well going out with my face buried between these thighs sounds pretty damn perfect."
Fingers dug into your flesh, dragging your hips down so you were firmly on top of him. You tensed, wondering if he could breathe, but then his tongue was teasing your entrance, his nose running over your clit and you groaned, the sound deep and long, eyes fluttering shut.
Your fingers gripped the headboard for dear life as his tongue entered you. And his nose, fuck, that nose, it rolled over your clit again and again. Your hips rolled with it, seeking out what you needed and he rumbled, a sound of appreciation beneath you, that rumble rolling through your body, sending tremors of pleasure straight where you needed them.
"That's my girl. Ride my face, princess. Take what you need," he told you, nose still nuzzling against your sensitive bud. "Fucking smother me with this pussy. I can take it."
"Fuck..." you groaned, rocking your hips over him. Eddie had his tongue out and you rolled across it, from entrance to clit and back again. His nose and tongue, the combination of the two, were sending your pleasure center into overdrive.
You keened, back arching and felt Eddie groan, only spurring you on more. Your hips rotated, swirling his nose around your clit in circles. Following your lead, Eddie's tongue slid inside you again, fucking you long and slow. His hands gripped your ass, not controlling your movements, just moving with you.
"Eddie...fuck yes..." you gasped, your stomach coiling tightly as your body let you know you were close. You removed one hand from the headboard, tangling it in his hair, gripping hard, pulling it away from the scalp and he growled, fingertips digging into flesh so hard you knew you would have marks and that only made this that much fucking hotter.
Eddie loved to talk during sex. He loved to give commands, to give praise, to ask you how you felt. He couldn't do any of that with your pussy currently gagging him and it gave you a sense of control you'd never felt before. It was such a goddamn turn on. You were usually the quiet one, the one who flushed when he'd ask you to talk dirty. You never took control but right now, you were thinking you could get used to this.
"Shit, baby. I'm so close," you breathed, driving yourself against his face harder and faster, chasing the high you knew was just beyond your reach. His hands slid along your stomach, up to cup your breasts, taking a nipple in each one and teasing it, rolling it through his fingers and that was it. "Fuck!" You screamed, back arching, your body shook once, twice, three times as you rode the waves of release.
Whimpering softly, your body relaxed, feeling like one of those inflatable air dancers at the car dealerships after all the air is let out. Eddie nipped playfully at your thigh, eliciting a squeak from you as he slid his hands under you, helping you to lie down next to him.
"You did so good, beautiful girl," he praised, running the back of his hand along your cheek, his rings cool and pleasant on your fevered flesh. "It was so fucking hot watching you use me like your little toy. Did you love that? It definitely sounded like you did."
You nodded, struggling to find words. They were like dry sand, solid and there but unable to form into anything. If you tried, it all just sifted away back into a pile on the ground.
"Mmm...my princess looks spent," Eddie mused, his hands taking your arm, lips trailing over flesh, tongue swirling in the crook of your elbow, before teeth were nibbling at your collarbone. And already, your body was humming for him again even as your brain was telling you that you needed sleep. "But I think you've got more in you because, baby, I'm not done with you yet."
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loupetlapinn · 1 month
Text
𝟐:𝟑𝟕 𝐚𝐦
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t/w: intox, dubcon, noncon, coercion, forced breeding if you squint kinda maybe idk, unprotected sex. a/n: MDNI. basically a continuation of my drunk post lmao. this is Also unbetad. also i may be delirious. felt cute might delete later. synopsis: just a . . . casual drink with cheol pt 2. w/c: don't ask. feel free to block me.
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His breath on your neck has you squirming in place, the humidity spreading over the expanse of exposed skin.
“It’s like this is what you wanted all along,” his condescending voice echoing in your ear. 
Your reply nothing but a whimper as his fingers slip over slick folds, teasing.
“You poor thing.”
Every syllable sliding off his tongue seeps their way into your ears, numbing your senses further. You offer a small whimper in your current state but it does nothing but encourage his attentions. Firm hands soothing over bare skin, tracing over curves and slopes as your chest rises and falls.
“That's it, baby,” he purrs, bulbous head of his cock teasing your quivering entrance. “Taking me so nicely.”
Your breath stuttering, eyes rolling back as your clumsy limbs arrange themselves. Desperately grasping at the closest pillows, knuckles blanching with the stretch of every inch sinking into your barely prepped heat. 
“So fucking wet,” he muses, the pad of his thumb circling your hypersensitive clit as you jump at the sensation. “I’ve barely touched you . . . That’s all it takes? A few drinks and you’re drenched and spreading your legs so easily for me?”
“Cheol . . .” mumbled words and muffled noises follow, slurred “mphm’s” and short little gasps following as your eyes roll back. Repeating his name until you’re able to do so with a hint of coherence rather than a jumble of noises strewn together. “Cheol . . . I-I’m not—” you hiccup your words, trying to keep your train of thought. Which was practically impossible from the warmth of alcohol thrumming through your veins and the incessant throb of Seungcheol’s cock as he bullies his way further inside of your fluttering cunt.
“Not what?” he coos. If you had any presence of mind, you might’ve noticed the condescending tone that laces his every word. The smug grin that pulls lazily at the corners of plush lips, dark gaze hooded and hungry as he takes in every minuscule reaction you have to offer through your thick haze. “Big girl words, c’mon.”
He can’t help but snicker as your mouth opens but nothing intelligible follows.
“You know how long I’ve been thinking of this?” he grunts with a rough snap of his hips slapping against the flushed skin of your thighs, earning himself yet another pitched mewl from your lips. “This pretty little cunt wrapped around me— Fuck. Gonna cry for me this time, mhm? Or will I have to try a little harder?”
“Seungcheol ‘m not . . .” you fist at his shirt, eyes screwed shut as you can’t handle the way the room spins as you squirm beneath his broad frame, “. . . n-not— can’t . . .please, Cheol, please.”
“Not what, baby, mhm? Can’t what?” he mocks, eyes transfixed on the swell of your breasts as they jostle with every move, “It seems like you can. Look at you, greedy, taking my cock like this.”
“H-hurts, Cheol, it hurts.” Your hand haphazardly slapping around to find his hips, trying to push at him. If anything, it only encourages his ruthless pace.
“Hurts?” A thick brow arches, a firm hand snatching your jaw as he peers through dark lashes, scrutinizing you. “You want it to hurt?”
Glassy eyes that peer back at him only make his dick twitch in your vice like grip. Watching as you attempt to shake your head as his grasp is nearly bruising, squishing your cheeks to pout your moistened and bruised lips. Lips he can’t help but smash his own against, ignoring your noises of disapproval as his tongue intrudes past the seam of those lips of yours. His hips as relentless as his mouth as he drills you into the bed. A considerably violent slam eliciting a rather loud cry from you that he hungrily swallows down between your sloppy lip lock.
He only pulls away to mouth his way along your jawline, dipping lower and lower with every lave of his tongue and graze of his teeth. A hand coming palm over your breasts, squeezing, guiding a pert mound into his mouth to suction lewdly around it. The filthy noise almost rivals the debauched squelch of where your bodies fused together.
Your body felt like a live wire. Everything was happening too quickly all at once. Even you couldn’t believe the noises that only continued to fall from your lips.
“Fuck . . .” A finger of his once again snakes down between the both of you, finding your sensitive clit, “Want you to cum on my cock, I know you can.”
The noises you make as he pushes you closer to climax only drags him along with you. Your writhing beneath him pouring fuel on the fire. “Don’t fight it, baby. You’re squeezing so tight, I know you want it.”
“Cheol— Cheol, please!”
He’s enraptured with the way your body trembles and quakes beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you. Choking out a few grunts at the way you seize around him so drastically.
“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked,” he hisses, fucking you through your release without remorse. “Gonna make a mess of this cunt.”
It was almost as if he plows forward with renewed energy, determined to follow through on his word.
“W-wait . . . Wait, Cheol, pull out. I’m not on birth control. Please.” There they were, those pretty tears, Seungcheol knew you had it in you. Crystalline as they begin to trickle down blotchy cheeks. “Pull out! Cheol, please, I can’t . . . I can’t!”
“You can,” he insists, “but, you are.” Between your tears, your pleas and the cry of his name as it sounds from your mouth. There isn’t an inkling of a chance Seungcheol was pulling out, definitely not now. “I’ll show you.”
His release spills past your entrance with the sheer amount that floods your abused walls, quivering weakly around him as he catches his breath above you. Rocking his hips gingerly into as he gives himself time to come down, feeling him gradually soften before he’s slowly dragging his length from your core.
“See,” his fingers root in your hair, guiding your face to look downwards. Your eyes following his blearily as his cum leaks from your puffy cunt.
“You can after all.”
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lots-of-pockets · 4 months
Text
Braids
Pairing: Nat x you
Words: 1100
Warnings: none
Summary: You and Natasha had only been together for a few weeks when you ask to braid her hair.
Notes: Yikes. It’s been a while. I’m so sorry. I hope this cute fic makes up for it.
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The atmosphere was almost peaceful as both you and Natasha lounged on separate sides of the couch. You were idly watching her from the corner of her eye as she focuses on the laptop screen in front of her, hands distractedly flickering through the pages of the book you were planning on starting.
She was clad in one of your hoodies along with a pair of grey shorts; her hair down and a little mused from the way she would continuously run her hand through it. You often found yourself wondering if it was as soft as it looked. How soft it would feel in between your fingers.
You see, you and Natasha had only been together a little over four weeks, so the tentative relationship you did have was still very new. You'd held hands once or twice. Kissed a few times more. Chaste pecks that never trailed off into anything more. But that was it. No hugs had been given, and you'd yet to know how it felt to hold her body against your own.
Though you longed to hold her in your arms, you found that you didn't quite mind waiting. Good things come to those who wait after all. Well, that and the fact you knew months before you'd started dating that she was a very guarded person, and that wasn't going to change just because the label on what you were was different.
"I can feel you watching me, you know." You hear her speak, and your eyes flicker away from her hair to her face. Her eyes, you notice, remain on her computer screen, but the tiny smile present on her lips does not go amiss.
You sigh contently as you turn in your seat to face her, your back now pressed against the arm of the couch whilst your legs sprawl out in front of you. "Just admiring." You admit, your voice a mere murmur.
Natasha's fingers still on the keyboard of her laptop as her eyes finally meet your own. The emotion in them was undecipherable, just like always, but they do soften at the sight of you sitting before her. You couldn't help but melt slightly at the sight as you reach over to the coffee table and set down the book you never did get the chance to open.
Eyes once again meeting her own, you finally bring yourself to ask the question that had been on the forefront of your mind since you'd sat down.
"Can I braid your hair?"
You brace yourself for the rejection, but much to your dismay, it doesn't come. At least, not straight away. Natasha simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape as though she was attempting find a plausible answer to your question.
She clears her throat, eyes flickering away from you for just a moment before they return.
"Braid my hair?" She seems to finally find her voice, the sound of it alone making your heart race.
You nod, swallowing the sudden tightness in your own throat. Natasha stares at you for a little moment longer before she nods. It was just once, almost unnoticeable, but it was all the confirmation you needed. With more confidence than you felt, you let one of your legs fall to the floor and pat the now open space in between them.
Natasha hesitates for only a second before she was setting down her laptop and scooting herself towards you. As she settles, you place your hands on either side of her waist in a silent question. It was only when she nods again do you tug her backwards just slightly, the insides of your thighs now settled snuggly on either side of her hips.
"Good?" You question in a mere murmur, and she vocalises her agreement with a soft hum as your hands begin combing through her hair. It wasn't necessarily tangled, but you didn't want to accidentally snag any loose strands like you tended to do with your own hair. Soon, you'd parted the top her hair into three thin strands in preparation to start the intended dutch braid.
A comfortable silence seems to settle upon you, and you can't help but smile softly when you feel Natasha's hands rest almost tentatively on each of your thighs. You risk a gentle kiss against the back of her head, immediately rewarded by the feeling of her body relaxing completely against you.
"Nearly done." You reluctantly break the silence as your fingers begin to quickly finish the braid, and Natasha hums in acknowledgment as you grab the hair tie off of your wrist and secure it with ease. As you bring your now unoccupied hands back down to your lap, you watch as one of Natasha's own rises to feel the top of her head. It lingers for just a second before a satisfied hum escapes her lips.
"Dutch?" She questions knowingly, and you smirk slightly as you nod your head and place another kiss to the back of her head.
"Good guess." You muse, and Natasha looks back at you with a smirk of her own.
"It wasn't a guess." She tells you simply as her head settles against your shoulder.
"You're just that good huh?" You tease, craning your head slightly to you were more or less face to face with her.
"Damn right." Natasha smirks as she leans forward to affectionately graze the tip of her nose against your cheek, the appendage scrunching up cutely when you press a gentle kiss to it, and you roll your eyes fondly as your arms settle around her waist.
Tight enough for her to feel secure, but loose enough that should she choose leave your arms, she could do so without issue.
Your heart races when Natasha settles her hands atop of your own, choosing wisely to ignore the way they tremble slightly with what you could only assume was nerves. Instead, you simply press your lips against her forehead hoping to alleviate whatever fear may be there.
"Nobody likes a smart ass." You murmur as you pull away.
"No?" Natasha grins slyly as she turns herself in your arms so she was more or less cradled. You accept the change of position with ease, keeping one of your arms beneath her whilst the other loops around her stomach to meet the other that had come to rest on her hip. "You like me."
You sigh heavily in fake exasperation, "Unfortunatel-Hey! What was that for?!"
**
I hope you enjoyed 😊
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forever-rogue · 1 month
Note
you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…
i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!
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AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️
Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader
Warnings | language; gun violence
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.
More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.
You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.
The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.
“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”
“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”
“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”
“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”
“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”
“Why?” 
“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”
“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”
“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.
You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed. 
He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.
“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”
“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice. 
“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”
“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”
“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”
“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”
“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”
“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”
“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”
“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”
“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”
You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”
You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.
“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”
“Darlin’-”
“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”
Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father.  Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.
“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”
“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”
“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”
“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”
“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”
“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday.  She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”
“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”
“Hmm?”
“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.
“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”
“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”
“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”
You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.
But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy. 
“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”
“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down. 
“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”
“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.
“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”
“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”
“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”
“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”
“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d  be enjoying this, “but I will.”
“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground. 
It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming. 
Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.
“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”
“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”
Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.
“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head. 
“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”
“No need to thank  me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”
“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”
“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”
“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”
He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately. 
Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.
You took it without hesitation. 
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