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octuscle · 9 days

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Accountant wanted

Let's not kid ourselves: no one expected Dylan to have a career. He'd barely managed to get through school, and probably only got his bachelor's degree out of pity. But he really did look like he needed to be pitied. Slightly overweight, bad skin, a squeaky voice and an annoying laugh. Most of his fellow students who were not doing a master's degree had job offers in the bag before they had even started their bachelor's thesis. Not Dylan.

In the beginning, Dylan kept his head above water with his old student job. Cashier at the supermarket. Sometimes he was also allowed to help out in the accounting department. Sometimes he also helped restock shelves. Nothing you'd need a bachelor's degree for. Sometimes Dylan also checked the supermarket bulletin board, but aside from tutoring jobs or babysitting for babies or pets, there were rarely any offers. Until that one day. There was the note. Handwritten. Blotchy. Not quite grammatically correct. But it said “Accountant wanted”. And Dylan could do accounting. Sort of. While he was working, Dylan didn't dare to use the phone. But right during the first break, he called the phone number listed. Someone answered whose English was rather broken. In a mixture of Spanish and English, Dylan conducted a kind of job interview. However, his Spanish was even worse than the English of his interlocutor. But somehow it seemed to have worked, because in the end Dylan received a WhatsApp message “Come mañana at 8:00 oficina. We looking forward to seeing you. I'll send the address later.” Dylan was so excited that his puny little cock actually got hard.

The next morning, Dylan got up at 5:30 a.m. It was quite a distance to Little Cuba. And he wanted to be on time and look good. With his white shirt, unfashionable tie, and tassel loafers, he looked a bit out of place on the bus. But he was at the specified location at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Dylan. No one else. Dylan checked the location again, which he had received via WhatsApp. He was exactly at the agreed place. It was 08:15, it was 08:30. It was 08:45… At 09:30, a man on a motorcycle stopped in front of Dylan. “You Dylan?” Dylan's mouth went dry. The guy was a mountain of a man. Muscles, hair… Tattoos… Leather… The man got off his bike and gave Dylan a fistbump that nearly knocked Dylan to the ground. “Soy Enrique. Pero call me Lobo. ¿Qué pasa con esa clothes tan silly?” Opened the rolling grille of the store they were standing in front of. Lobo pulled Dylan behind him. He went to the back. Dylan stood a little unsettled in the empty room. A mixture of cafe, leather clothing store and motorcycle repair shop. It smelled of oil, leather and sweat. For whatever reason, Dylan got a hard-on again.

Lobo came back and put a pile of clothes on a counter next to Dylan. A pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a leather vest. “Take them off! Get dressed!” It wasn't a request, it was an order. Dylan looked around for a sheltered spot. But there wasn't one. And Lobo barked more than he said: Here! So Dylan stripped. Thank goodness Lobo wasn't watching because he was looking for something. When Dylan put on the jeans that were loose-fitting on his legs, Lobo put a pair of boots in front of him. Dylan shielded his soft pale man-boobs from Lobo's gaze. He could hardly take his eyes off Lobo's steel-hard, tanned pecs. Lobo noticed this and made his muscles dance. Small damp patches from his precum formed in Dylan's jeans. Dylan pulled on the T-shirt, which was actually a cut-off tank top, and the leather vest. A mirror hung next to the rack of leather jackets. Dylan looked into it. He looked so ridiculous. His pale, chapped skin didn't match the masculine clothes at all. Since he was freshly shaved, his double chin was even more visible. And the gelled parting just didn't fit in at all. Not with his outfit. And not in the store!

Dylan asked Lobo what he should do now? Lobo looked at Dylan as if he wanted to eat him. “¿Soy yo el maldito contable? ¿Sé usar este puto ordenador?” he asked. “Todo lo que necesitas está ahí, en tu despacho.” Dylan had to make an enormous effort. Dylan didn't exactly speak the Spanish he had learned at school either. But he replied, somewhat haltingly and with a heavy accent, “¡Lo tienes, jefe! ¡No te defraudaré!”

In the corner that Lobo called his office, there was a surprisingly new and high-quality laptop with a Post-It with “clave: Lobo” stuck to it. Not exactly a high-security wing, Dylan thought to himself. But then, he wasn't employed for IT security. There were a few pieces of paper with notes next to the computer. Maybe there was a folder somewhere where he could file the notes. Dylan opened a drawer. And dollar bills poured out of the drawer. Small, large, hot off the press, worn… There had to be thousands of dollars. Lobo called out to him that he would like to know what yesterday's takings were and what outstanding debts there were. Well, counting the money was still the easiest task. Dylan was done with that by lunchtime. Then he had 18,743.00 dollars neatly bundled on his desk. His hands stank of money. It was hot and stuffy in the store. Dylan's hair was wet with sweat. He was hungry and thirsty. Lobo called out to him to get some tacos. And a few bottles of beer. Dylan took 20 dollars from the pile, made a note in an Excel spreadsheet and ran to get lunch. For Lobo, himself and, just in case, one or two of the guys who occasionally came into the store between errands.

Miguel greeted Dylan with a fist bump and asked if he wanted the usual. Dylan replied “¡Claro, amigo! Para cuatro personas, por favor. Y dame una botella extra de cerveza, estoy sediento como un buey hoy.” The two talked about the usual while Miguel prepared the tacos at his street food trolley. Soccer, the cursed Republicans, motorcycles… A few of the other guys, who were already eating or waiting in line behind Dylan, joined in the passionate discussion. Gringos rarely strayed into this neighborhood. Especially when it came to talking shit about Trump, there was no need to mince words. One of the guys asked Dylan how he spoke ghetto Spanish so fluently. Dylan shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea. It was just the Spanish he knew not only from Miguel, but also from Lobo and the boys. And Lobo was now snapping at him on the phone in exactly the same Spanish. He wouldn't be paid to blaspheme and gossip.

Dylan said goodbye to Miguel with a fist bump. He would have preferred a deep French kiss. But Miguel was a prude. Too bad, really. Well, maybe Dylan would be able to suck off one of the boys in the store later. As the youngest in the team, he was the one furthest down the hierarchy. And as an accountant, he was worth less than the money collectors, pimps or protection racketeers on the team. The others chose when and how he was allowed to have fun. When he arrived with the tacos, he took a quick look in the mirror: yes, he was the gringo on the team. But he worked hard on his body, his language and his attitude. He did everything he could to fit in.

It was only a short bus ride to his apartment. He shared a room with a couple of guys who worked in one of Lobo's restaurants, with whom he laundered money. They were cool. They helped Dylan improve his Spanish, they always brought food from the restaurant in the evenings and if none of the guys from Lobo's headquarters felt like playing with the gringo, Dylan always had the chance to fill a hole or get one filled. Not that early though, the guys rarely finished work before 10pm. So Dylan took the opportunity, swapped jeans for nylon shorts and boots for sneakers and headed for the pull-up bar in the small park around the corner. Time for a little workout.

The next morning, Dylan's morning wood led him straight to the bathroom. The boys hadn't come home until around 02:00 and he didn't want to disturb them. But fuck, his morning wood was almost painful. He stood in front of the mirror, sucked in the smell from his armpit and jerked off with his other hand. Shit, he was 19 years old now, this permanent horniness of puberty had to be over by now. But…. No… It…. Was… FUUUUUUUCK! Not over yet. Dylan wiped the mirror and the sink clean. Shit, too late to shower again. The boys had probably dropped off the last day's takings by now and if he didn't finish booking them by the time Lobo arrived, there'd be trouble. So he quickly wiped his upper body with the washcloth, brushed his teeth and set off.

When Dylan arrived at the store, no one was there except Juan. Juan repaired the boys' bikes. He'd been doing that since Lobo was still shitting in his diapers. And now he was working on Dylan's baby. Technically, it wasn't his yet. But if the month went as he expected, it would be his bike by the end of the month. Finally, no more of this damn bus driving. He hated riding the bus, almost like he hated that his parents had given him that silly name “Dylan”. That's why he'd been nicknamed “Gringo” by Lobo and his boys right from the start.

17,776.00 dollars. Less than the day before. Lobo would be fuming. But Dylan's job as an accountant was done. All the income had been properly booked to the restaurant, the laundry and the motorcycle workshop. Even though he himself stank of sweat and musk, his books were all clean and tidy. Maybe he could give Lobo a blowjob to thank him when he arrived. And then Dylan would take care of booking the expenses.

Pic by @ki-kink

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #ai image #age reduction #leather tf #biker tf #thug tf #race change #racial tf

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 4 months

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something tells me our ghoulie would be fond of period sex (i’ll go to horny jail now)

Bloodletting

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,839

Warnings: smut (18+), blood play, bloody cunnilingus/bloody kisses, period sex, masturbation (male), rough sex, creampie, biting.

Notes: Can't lie, this was my immediate thought watching him tear into that bloody chunk of meat for the first time. I usually try to include at least a little plot, but this is basically all porn. Very fun submission to write; thank you! Please save a good seat for me on the bench in horny jail, I'll be in promptly.

Fun fact: orgasms can help relieve period cramps for some people.

Today had been a poor choice of start point for this long walk.

Normally, trekking across the bombed out western seaboard was strenuous and uncomfortable enough, the deadly sun baking seemingly the entire planet to a crisp, the cloying dehydration, the constant danger that something or someone was around the corner, ready to eat you. It was a far cry from the safety and monotony of the vault you'd grown up in. Usually, you were able to find lots of beauty on the surface, plenty of things to appreciate. But right now everything was just awful and uncomfortable.

Menstruation was such a nightmare topside. The proper products were apparently incredibly difficult to find anymore, leaving you to make the best of things with old torn pieces of clothing and less-than-ideal medical supplies. But these things didn't provide the absorption you'd long been accustomed to, and you kept having accidents the last few days, the result of a heavier-than-average flow. Normally, these things wouldn't bother you, but it was insanely annoying to constantly feel as if you were bleeding through basically the only clothes you had, doubly so when there was no place to clean them or bathe yourself most of the time. Besides, these pants chaffed terribly when they were damp.

Months back, you'd made the choice to ditch the vault suit. It was surreal and sort of sad feeling, packing away what had truly been a symbol of your identity for so long. However, it attracted far too much attention and caused trouble when people assumed they could take advantage of you, so you'd opted to start dressing like a proper Wastelander, boiled leather armor and denim pants. Right now, however, you desperately wished you'd been wearing the suit. The absorbent liner would have saved you some of this embarrassment.

The old ghoul had been telling you some story or another as you mounted a steep hill, your mind tuning in and out in frustration. You were sweaty, cramping, bloated, and bleeding on yourself, and all you wanted was a chance to clean yourself up and sit down for a minute. Eventually, the two of you came across what looked to be the abandoned skeleton of an old repair garage, just barely maintaining its tall stance against the horizon. As the two of you began to pass it by, you paused.

"I need to stop for a bit." you said, frowning at him as he turned his gaze to the position of the sun in the sky and back to you, confusion plain on his face.

"Whassa' matter?" he asked, "You're not usually this pussy about the sun anymore. Been long enough."

He was right, you were usually able to soldier on better than this. Today wasn't one of those days, though.

"I need like ten minutes alone, okay?" you snapped, short of patience. "I just...need it."

Your companion held up his hands in a silent, play-offended gesture of surrender, stepping aside to let you walk into the ramshackle little garage.

"Ten minutes!" he called teasingly behind you, prompting you to roll your eyes despite him not being able to see it.

Dropping your bag against the wall, you quickly toed your boots off so you could shuck your pants to the ground, groaning quietly at the bloody mess between your thighs. Digging some dirty rags out of your bag, you checked the spare canteen you kept undrinkable water in. Almost empty. You wanted to cry.

You could always ask Coop for some of his, since he was prone to drinking from questionable sources. He might even give you some, close as you'd become lately, thanks to a night of whiskey and Jet by the fire that had led to other forms of entertainment.

But you'd rather not have to explain this to him. As you did your best to scrub away the rusty red covering your skin, you wondered if he even remembered that this was something that happened to women. You had no idea what you were going to do with your pants.

Apparently, time had slipped away from you, as he appeared suddenly in the doorway a moment or two later, already speaking to you like he'd been standing there the entire time.

"It's been fifteen minutes, girlie. I'll have you know--" came his halted snark, quickly cut off as the two of you made eye contact, as he took in your nakedness below the waist. You felt a creeping sense of panic, a desire to flee out the broken window to your side. Neither of you said a word, and after a moment, he stepped forward towards you, softly gripping your wrist in his hand and holding it up to examine it. His honeyed eyes flicked back and forth between the soiled rag in your bloodied hand and where you'd been attempting to clean yourself up, briefly moving over to where your pants lay crumpled up on the floor.

"I'm--" you began, wanting to explain that you were fine, but you were quickly and decisively cut off from speaking when he lifted your bloody fingers to his mouth, sucking them between his lips with an obscene sigh. Your jaw fell slack as you watched him lick them clean, feeling like you were having some sort of erotic fever dream you'd wake up from any moment. Your hormones must've been working in tandem with the sun to drive you crazy.

However, it only continued to escalate as he seized you by the wrist, dragging you a few feet forward towards the rickety, grimy couch that leaned against the back wall, shoving you just enough to make you sit right in the center, a stale plume of desert dust filling the air around you as he rucked your hips up against his chest, your calves hooking over his shoulders. One of your flailing, still-socked feet knocked his hat clear off his head, sending it tumbling down to the floor, but he didn't even seem to notice, too preoccupied with running his hands along your inner thighs, smearing through the patches of drying blood there with fascination.

Your whole face burned white-hot, but you continued to watch him closely as his hands converged at your mound, one thumb tracing lightly over your now-swollen slit, just barely grazing your bud and drawing a hiss from between your teeth. However, instead of touching you there again, as you'd hoped he would, both thumbs traced down the line of your labia, parting them softly and spreading you open for his hungry eyes to see.

This new kind of attention made you squirm a bit at its intensity, the movement making your abdominal muscles clench just right to draw a trickle of warmth from between your legs, your face reaching supernova in embarrassment, but before you could pull away, he dove forward, his mouth sealing itself over your cunt and lapping wildly. The feeling was electric and ticklish and sent you clamoring to grab onto anything for leverage, letting out a screech that was half giggle and half moan.

He had done this before, gone down between your legs and licked and tasted and teased you until you couldn't handle it anymore, and always with great enthusiasm (and more than a little smugness, frankly), but never with a hunger like this. His thick tongue traced back and forth along your folds, seeking out every sanguine drop before dipping back down to your entrance, the wriggling muscle slipping inside with ease, drawing out another cry from you.

You were on fire, being teased more than you could handle; his tongue felt amazing, but largely avoided where you really wanted it to be, leaving you pushing and grinding your hips against his face as best as you could in your strange, folded over position. With one proper swivel, you managed to brush your clit against the bony ridge that sat at the top of where his nose would have been, scraping just right and sending you bucking right back at the same angle. The rough way you pushed against him was met by his hands curling under your ass, attempting to yank you even closer to his face as you felt that knot in your gut begin to tighten.

"Oh god, Coop, I'm gonna cum." you gasped, nails digging into his scalp as your thighs pulsed around his head. The older man, typically quite silent for most of the performance, let out a rather loud groan at that, and the sound was enough to push you right into a tense, crying orgasm, your little mewls ringing off the ancient concrete walls. If he were any other man, you'd worry about smothering him between your damp thighs, your scrambling hands pressing into the back of his head.

Fortunately, Cooper Howard wasn't just any man.

He continued to fuck you with his tongue through your climax, dragging it out for what felt like minutes. However, once you finally came down from that euphoric peak, he didn't stop, his tongue continuing to slather across you in full, wide strokes, his fingers moving up to tease at your oversensitive clit.

This, too, he had done before, this beautiful torture of keeping you constantly on the verge of a new orgasm despite still riding the wave of your current one. You both loved and hated it, feeling like every nerve in your body was alive with electricity, but simultaneously on the verge of pain from all the sensation. Presently, you loved it a lot more than you hated it, feeling the tight, cramping muscles in your belly relax just a little with your release. Glimpsing down at him once more, you could see that he'd tugged his hard cock free from its confines, jerking himself enthusiastically.

The ghoul's lips wrapped back around your clit, long, nimble fingers probing your saliva-slicked entrance. Two of them slid inside to the hilt before you even really registered their presence, causing you to hiss at the slight burn of the rad-rough flesh against your sensitive insides. The suction on your bud soothed the burn, allowing you to relax, and soon a third was added alongside the first two, quickly pushing you into another sudden and intense climax, washing over you like a tidal wave as he stretched you. When he eventually pulled his hand away, it was half-covered in red.

You were still trembling hard as he quickly worked his way back down your thighs, swiping up anything he may have missed. The sensation of his tongue running along your plush flesh made you giggle, earnest and breathless, but the sound was immediately cut off with a whine when he suddenly turned and viciously sunk his teeth into the meat of your inner thigh, not hard enough to break the skin, but damn near.

This, he had never done before.

Of course, you knew the man was intimately familiar with sinking his teeth into human flesh, but feeling them against you didn't frighten you as you expected it might, the sensation exhilarating and primal. The searing, pinching pain made you squeal, and one of his ungloved hands jammed up against your lips to silence you, filling your nose with the smell of iron and gunpowder. Come the morning, you'd be sporting a gnarly bruise there. The knowledge sent another hot tremble down your spine.

Unlatching his jaw from your leg, he pulled himself up to his full kneeling height, right even with you, a wild look in his eyes you weren't sure you'd seen before. So often he had the brim of his hat to obscure them, but now they stared, wide and glassy, into your own.

His fingers fisted into the already wild hair at the back of your head, pulling your forward into a passionate, metallic-tasting kiss. You could feel the way your face attempted to stick to his where he'd smeared your blood around your mouth with his hand. Quickly, he began to lean forward over you, pressing you into the mildew covered cushions as he pulled himself on top of you. The dry-rotted frame of the couch groaned loudly in protest at the additional weight, squeaking and sighing out curses as he repositioned your legs along his hips, falling right into place to rub his throbbing prick against you. Another throaty noise left you, strangled and awkward, but you were past being able to be embarrassed right now.

It distracted you just enough when the old cowboy dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his lips dancing along your pulse point, that you didn't tense when he pushed his way inside you, burying himself nearly to the hilt in one push. Both of you let out soft, satisfied groans as you stretched taut around him, clenching hotly already after all the attention he'd given you, his heavy breathing in your ear making every hair on your body stand on end.

For a short moment, he allowed you to adjust to his girth, warm hands pushing your shirt up to expose your breasts to him. His bare hands felt like they were everywhere, swiping affectionately against your face, tugging and pinching at your nipples, eventually settling into your hair, holding your head steady and forcing you to look at him as he began to fuck you. It didn't take long before he had you built right back up, the rub of his pelvic bone against you too good.

"Go on, gimme one more, baby. I know you can." he huffed, his warm breath tickling you just right. His thumb was suddenly strumming against your puffy, sore clit again, and tears brimmed in your eyes as your muscles seized once again, whimpering almost pitifully as you gave him what he wanted.

"Attagirl." he praised, running the blunted edge of his teeth along your throat as your body tugged at him. Your breathing was hard to control, making you see spots as he shifted your calves back over his shoulders, basically folding you in half once more as he pulled himself up higher and began to rut into you in earnest. The blunt head of his cock slammed into your tender cervix like this, making you jump and whine, but your legs only tightened around his shoulders, pulling him closer as he used your body to get himself off.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and the entire couch frame collapsed into a plume of dust, even worse than before, making you screech in shock. Cooper, however, seemed to barely notice, his pace not even slowing as he shifted you a few inches away from a busted 2x4 sticking out in your direction, pressing you harder into the cushions that were now trapped beneath you. Nevertheless, he did seem to be making sure you were okay in his own way, his wild eyes and insistent hands checking over every visible inch as he continued to pump between your thighs. When he dropped his mouth to your breasts, you throbbed around him, cooing as he sucked and nipped at your breasts.

"Fuck." he growled at the sensation, his hips slapping against you even harder, but in less coordinated strokes, his head heavily dropping back into the crook of your neck again, his entire weight resting on you now.

As you felt him begin to throb inside you, signaling his own release, you also felt those strong teeth latch onto the sensitive skin where your neck met your shoulder, digging deep into the smooth muscle as you screamed. You could hear your lover groaning loudly as he gave you a few more rough strokes, his teeth keeping firm at your neck as he pulsed every last drop of himself inside you. Beyond the pinching pain repeating itself, you could feel the burn of him sucking hard on the flesh between his teeth, trying to mark you up as visibly as possible. Remarkably, this was enough to push your oversensitive body into one last muted orgasm, leaving you shuddering against his chest.

Once his teeth released you, his strong arms wrapped around your body, carefully flipping you so that you laid across his chest, the leather of his clothing sticking eagerly to your sweaty skin. No one said anything for a few minutes, his fingers dancing along your spine, tracing the outline of the bite on your shoulder and earning a small whimper, which he chuckled at. Things were strangely blissful.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna need another fifteen minutes, boss." you sighed eventually, snuggling your face against the smooth leather of his vest and breathing in the smell of violence and sex.

"You can have ten." he responded, drawing a look from you until the hand that had been kneading away at your ass cheek slipped down further, rough fingers teasing at your abused entrance once more, pushing what was leaking out of you back inside.

"Oh? And what happens then?" you asked, trying hard to keep your hips still against his sinful hand and failing.

"Then we're going again."

#men who jerk off when they eat pussy go to heaven #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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bagsbutler · 4 months

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#bag cleaning singapore #shoes cleaning #leather bag repair singapore

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holylulusworld · 1 year

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Falling leaves - Flufftober 6

Summary: He’s a grump, but for you, he’s willing to change.

Rating: Teen

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: Y4: Holding hands

Square filled for @allcapsbingo (expired): O1: Pining

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, friends to more, general cuteness, Sunny vs grumpy trope

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

Words: 824

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Please for me,” you look at Bucky, who sits on the least comfortable chair in your apartment. Legs spread, and a grumpy expression on his face he glares at the colorful scarf in your hands. “I’ll look good on you. We will match. I made the same for me.”

“I don’t do scarves, doll. I’m not cold. It’s still warm outside,” Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He loves that you like to make things for him, but you’ll not convince him to wear a colorful scarf.

“Fine,” puckering your lips you look at Bucky. “I’ll wear mine and you can go in your leather jacket. If you get cold, I won’t keep you warm.” You point your index finger at Bucky. “Now. Let’s head out.”

“Head out?” He furrows his brows. “I thought you wanted me to come over to help you repair your sink. “Where do you want to go?”

You put your hands on your hips and huff. “I told you it’s the perfect day for a walk in the park. I want to collect a few leaves too. You were the one bringing my leaking sink up. Please don’t leave me hanging. I don’t want to go alone.”

Bucky watches you wrap the scarf around your neck. He smiles as you glance at him now and then. He’s not immune to your charm and already gets up from his seat to go for a walk in the park with you.

“I won’t wear the scarf,” he grumbles as you look at him. You’ve got this look. The one making his heart melt whenever he’s around you. “I mean it.”

“I know,” you try not to sound too sad. “You can wear your neck naked, like a real man.” You grab your bag and the peacock green slouchy knit beanie matching your scarf. “I’ll be warm and cozy.”

“You’re freezing all the time,” Bucky points out as you try to ignore he’s so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s your friend and nothing else you tell yourself once again. “Maybe we can have a hot chocolate or tea after you collect your leaves.”

You grin. “It’s a date,” you exclaim, taking Bucky by surprise. “We can have a slice of pumpkin pie or apple pie if you like.”

“Sure,” he watches you grab your keys. “I prefer apple pie. My ma made the best, but there’s this little bakery I discovered when I first came back to Brooklyn.”

You’re suddenly reminded of Bucky’s past. This city was his home before it was yours. He’s, just like his best friend Captain America, a man out of time.

“Look at all the beautiful leaves,” you smile widely as your eyes land on the colorful trees and the leaves on the ground. “Let’s hurry before someone else grabs the best leaves. I need them for my next art project.”

“We will get them,” he assures you. “Which ones do you want?”

“Uh-the pretties ones,” you shrug. “I’ll know when I see them.” You crouch down to pick the first leaf up. “Bucky? Did you hear me?”

You dip your head only to watch Bucky glare at a guy who crouched down to pick a leaf up. “HEY! Hands off the leaves! These are for my doll!”

Your eyes widen when Bucky storms toward the man to snatch the leaf out of his hands.

“Bucky, it’s fine. There are more than enough leaves,” you place your hand on his back to stop him from killing the poor guy. “Let him go.”

“He tried to steal one of your leaves,” Bucky argues, but he hands the leaf back to the man. ��Look for leaves somewhere else. This spot is ours.”

The man runs off, grumbling under his breath. “That was,” you grab Bucky’s hand and hold it, “very nice of you.”

“He tried to take the leaves away from you,” he dips his head to glance at you. “I can’t let him steal your leaves.”

You nod. “How about we collect a few leaves and have this walk we were talking about earlier?”

“Wait here. I’ll get the best leaves for you,” he runs off to look for the prettiest leaves. You watch Bucky for a while. He crouches down to pick up leaves, looking at peace. “Wait, I’ll help you.”

“That was nice,” on your way out of the park you are holding Bucky’s hand. You smile softly as he proudly carries the leaves you collected in a bag.

“Do you want to go home, or have some tea and a slice of pie,” he asks, hopefully looking at you.

“We can grab some pie and go to my place to have tea. Maybe you can stay for dinner,” you look up at Bucky. “Only if you don’t have plans for tonight.”

“It’s a date,” he says, squeezing your hand. “And tomorrow, we can go for another walk. I’ll wear the scarf too.”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #bucky barnes x you

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sugarspicenights · 2 years

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Angel Voices - Vash x Reader

4.1k words / minors DNI / takes place in trigun '98 canon

CW: reader has breasts, wears a bra, and has a vagina/vulva/clit, but no specific use of pronouns in fic (though one mention of "goddess"), no mention of skin color, hair color or texture. Both reader and Vash are written with the mindset of bisexual switches.

Use of nicknames like baby and good boy, mentions and descriptions of Vash's scars, oral (m on f + f on m), 69, f squirting on m's face, discussion of contraceptive method, piv sex (sitting with f on top, cowgirl, and missionary), monsterfucking (since Vash is a sentient plant; discussion of plant sex differences and weird plant cum), overstimulation, cum eating (only a little), brief aftercare (as there might be a fic part 2)

AN: Thank you to everyone for waiting on this! I wrote this with so much love for the original source material and I hope it captures the slightly goofy spirit of the Trigun 98 dub, both for Vash and reader 💖

Morning again…

Slowly waking, you scrunch up your face, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. From behind, you can hear soft, even breaths and feel a warm hand around your waist.

We must have fallen asleep after the mission…

Closing your eyes, you take in the sensation of Vash’s body around you: his left arm slung around your waist, fingers tucked slightly under your shirt and legs tangled between yours.

You had only meant to talk for bit and process the day’s adventure, but even one beer and leftover donuts from the morning was enough to relax Vash and make him realize just how much energy he had used up.

He was staying at a hotel down the road, so you offered to let him rest a minute before heading back. He had obliged, slipping his jacket off and removing his metal prosthesis, showing you just how much he trusted you.

When you had sat down next to him, petting his hair as he relaxed, you must have fallen asleep too, lulled by the repetitive motion and gentle hums from Vash. You were supposed to wake him up, but instead you were laying next to him, the closest you’d ever been to the man you had a huge crush on.

He really should have been able to figure it by now…

For all his “reputation” as a womanizer, besides some harmless flirting, you had never witnessed Vash make a move on anyone. He seemed to prefer the company of drinking buddies or a bag of fresh donuts more than a night with a woman.

You knew why, though.

Beneath the handsome and charming outer surface, Vash the Stampede kept a secret perfectly contained. You’d never guess it by a glance, but he was pushing 150 years old, and hidden under layers of crimson leather and cloth were relics of his past—scars, surgeries, repairs, and metal prosthetics.

With a flashy enough jacket, no one usually asked questions about what was underneath.

You hadn’t seen them for yourself more than a quick glance when Vash stretched and his shirt rode up, but you had heard about the extent of his injuries from Meryl and Milly.

The insurance girls had become your friends quickly, often hanging out together and commiserating over how much trouble you all got into around Vash and Wolfwood.

You didn’t mind the adventures. Sure, danger followed you at every step, but you always seemed to come out alright—Vash and Nick always found a way to turn things around.

Which is how you ended up here, snuggled in the arms of the infamous gunslinger, the humanoid typhoon, and the man currently pressed up against your back, half-hard and sleepy, holding onto you like a touch-starved lover.

You knew if Vash woke up right now he would apologize furiously and move away from you instantly, but you didn’t want him to leave.

You wanted to go further—spend the morning in bed and explore…

You don't know how to cross that emotional barrier yet, but have time to think, cheeks burning as Vash’s fingers ghost over your stomach, almost dipping below your underwear waistband. Sucking in a breath, sensitive, you move your hips slowly, closing your eyes and waiting for Vash to wake up.

Only he doesn't.

He lets out a few breathy moans in his sleep, holding onto you tighter and nuzzling into your shoulder. You lay there, blushing, feeling Vash’s cock swelling into your back and starting to pant softly. You're already so wet without being touched, but don't feel comfortable going any further without consent.

Fuck, this was going to be awkward.

“Vash?”

He only stirs slightly, still lost in his sleepy haze.

“Vash, wake up.”

“Hmmmm??”

You needed only wait a moment before Vash’s hand promptly flies away with an embarrassed “WHAAAAYAGHHHH!!!” and the string of apologies comes as expected.

Instead of accepting them, however, you shove Vash back down onto the pillows and climb onto his hips, raising a finger to talk to him.

“Stop that!!!”

He immediately shuts up, cheeks still flushed, and stares up at you, dumbfounded.

“I like you, Vash.” You go right to the point, bluntly, so he has no excuses. “I like you romantically… sexually… and I don’t want your apologies!!!! I want you to stay.”

Vash’s mouth pops open, looking you over to see if you're really telling the truth, then asks sheepishly, “Why didn’t you say anything before???”

Frowning, you remain in your position, looking down at the gunman. “Do you know how hard it is to get a moment with you alone??? I appreciate the gentleman act and all, but it makes it hard to get to know each other.”

Turning his gaze away, Vash mumbles out, “Maybe you don’t want to know the real me.”

Reaching down to take his face in your hands, you gently turn his head back toward you. “Look, this doesn’t have to be anything permanent. But I don’t want to waste the time I have with you. You’re constantly getting into trouble and I never know if I’m even going to see you tomorrow.”

His brows furrow, but gaze softens towards you. “The life of an outlaw isn’t a safe one. Danger and destruction follows me everywhere I go. And I don’t want you to be collateral.”

Reaching for his hand, you lace your fingers between his, squeezing tight. “I don’t know what today holds, but you’re here with me now.”

Vash looks like he’s tearing up, having resigned himself to a life of loneliness long ago. “Do you really want me?”

You break into a grin, all the anxiety you had felt lifting away. “I do. All of you.”

“I…” He starts, then hesitates, swallowing nervously. “I’m not all that pretty. My face maybe, but. I’ve been around a long time, you understand? And fought so many battles…”

You nod, dragging your hand out of his grip and settling both of palms on his stomach. “I understand. Meryl and Milly told me a little about your past… But I don’t care about that. I care about you. However you are.”

“Ah, shucks.” He laughs, carefully putting his hand on your waist. “You’re gonna make me blush~”

“I believe I’ve already done that this morning, Mr. Stampede~”

He grins, his playfulness finally returning. “Please, not my full name!! It’s just Vash to you.”

“Vash.” You say his name out loud once more, uttering it with reverence and adoration.

“My Vash.”

His gaze meets yours, tracking down to your lips, then back up. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, licking your lips unconsciously, then lean forward, setting your fingertips under Vash’s jaw and tilting your head. He meets your lips with his own, gripping your hip tightly as he whimpers into your mouth.

It had been far too long since he had been this close with anyone and your touch was electrifying.

Pulling back for a moment, though still desperate, Vash gets out between soft pecks, “Wait, wait. Lemme get my arm. Go to the bathroom. Wanna do this right.”

You sigh, sitting up. “Alright, hang on.”

Climbing off of him, you stand up and ask him to wait, then go to pick up his arm, making a little “oof!” sound as you return, struggling slightly with the metal’s weight.

Presenting the device to him, you watch as he aligns the locking mechanism, wrinkling up his nose as his arm reattaches, and letting out a sigh of relief out when he can finally move his arm again.

“I don’t usually take it off since it hurts to reattach, but my shoulder was aching so bad last night, I needed a break.”

You tilt your head, eyes traveling to his shoulders. “Do you need me to look at your shoulder? Did you get hurt?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll check it in the bathroom. Be right back.”

As soon as the door closes, you run to your drawers to look for lingerie, digging until you find a red bra, the same shade as his jacket, and a clean pair of bottoms. Shoving them into a cloth bag, you wait impatiently to swap places so you can surprise him.

Soon, Vash peeks out, hiding slightly with his clothes slung over his arm. He’s shirtless now with just boxers on, his scars fully on display. You walk over to him, kissing his upper arm and glancing up. “I’ll be right back. There’s water and snacks if you’re hungry.”

“Mhm.” Vash smiles, ruffling your hair affectionately. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Vash has half a pudding eaten when you finally return, dropping his spoon and his jaw when he sees you step out of the bathroom.

“You all good?” Clasping your hands in front of your stomach, you sway slightly, watching as Vash sets the pudding aside and rushes toward you, getting on his knees.

“You're the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in the whole galaxy…”

“That’s not possible, there are objectively prettier things than me. Like… the Horsehead Nebula.”

Vash laughs, still on the ground. “Nerd.”

Reaching out a hand to pat his hair, you drag your fingertips over his scalp, grinning down at him. “Dweeb.”

Grabbing the backs of both your thighs, Vash pulls closer as you shiver at the cold metal on your skin, a slight damp patch already forming on your panties. Mouthing over the cotton fabric, Vash inhales deeply, drunk on the smell of you. You look down, embarrassed, pushing his head away. “Vash…”

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“You don’t waste any time, huh? Is it possible you’re really a ‘ladykiller’ like the legends say?~”

“Mmmh.” Vash raises his eyebrows, squeezing your thighs and making you squirm. “No more talking.”

Tucking his fingers into your waistband, he yanks the material down and lets you step out, tossing the garment to an unknown corner of the room. The air in the room is sticky with the desert heat, but Vash’s hands on you are making you sweat even more, starting to pant hard as he ghosts his breath over your now-bare pussy.

He’s maddening, teasing you without giving you what you want, making you only imagine what his tongue feels like.

Instead of kissing your clit, he moves to your thighs, kissing and sucking faint hickeys into your skin. He can’t contain his own pleasure, moaning softly as he leaves gentle bites, making you jump and suck in a sharp breath as he moves closer and closer to your dripping cunt.

Grabbing his hair, you desperately pull him up onto you and he makes a surprised “mmpf!” as his nose bumps your clit. Your cheeks flush even deeper, finally feeling Vash’s tongue dart out and collect your slick, sucking messily as he traces his tongue over your folds.

When he’s teased you enough, he pauses a moment, looking up at you with sparkling eyes, pussy-drunk, then dives back down, finally wrapping his soft lips around your clit.

“Nnnnh!!!”

Bracing yourself against the hotel wall, you bring a hand to your mouth to stifle your moans, remembering there are other guests just across the wall. Hissing out a, “Vash!” you point to the bed, knees buckling slightly as he rubs his thumb over your clit and gives you a false-innocent questioning look.

“Need something?~”

“Can we—“ Interrupting yourself with another high-pitched moan, you try again, voice wavering. “Bed. Please?”

“Well since you said please and all~”

Wiping off his mouth and grinning, Vash stands, sauntering over to the bed and pulling back the covers, waiting for you to lay down first.

When you finally do, he stares down at you quietly, watching as you cross your legs, pull your arms over your chest, and look away, suddenly shy at the intensity of his gaze roaming over you.

“No, please, don’t hide.” Vash sits down on the edge of the bed next to you, tracing his fingers over the bottom edge of your bra. “You look so beautiful right now…”

Finally meeting his eyes again, your heart leaps, seeing his softer side come out—his smile is warm and sincere, making you smile in return, sharing his happiness.

As you study Vash a moment longer, you notice little details: his eyes are wide and full of desire, hair disheveled from your touch, and lips still puffy from eating you out. You can feel warmth blossoming in your chest and cheeks, silently drawing your heart closer to him.

Leaning up quickly, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans when your tongue finds his, exploring your mouth softly as he climbs onto the bed. One leg settles between both of yours and his hands reach for your face, neck, breasts—anything he can hold onto and get closer to you.

When you finally break for air, Vash is giggling with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?? This is great!!”

Laughing too, you pull the back of your hand over your eyes and grin, cheeks flushed and breath coming out in soft pants.

You had noticed lately that Vash had two aspects to his personality: the hardened, tough, expert outlaw gunslinger side, and the very playful, hopeful, trusting and almost child-like side. In this moment, you loved being on the receiving end of the latter.

Moving your hand enough to peek an eye open, you see Vash grinning down at you again, tilting his head curiously and waiting for you to catch your breath. “You all good??”

You nod and sit up, pulling him into a hug. “Just happy you’re here with me is all.”

Feeling the warmth of his skin against yours and his hands resting gently on your back, you calm down instantly, taking a moment to rest. This was the first time you had been close to his scars and you reach out, gently tracing over some of them, watching for a response in case you were overstepping boundaries.

He lets you keep going, however, watching carefully as your fingers trace his skin’s memories of the past—the metal grating, the permanent clamps, the burned patches, old bullet wounds, and healed-over gashes.

Pressing your lips to the biggest scar on his chest, you slowly kiss your way up to his neck while your left hand slips down his stomach to his cock, rubbing through his underwear as you continue your gentle barrage of kisses and nips.

Whimpering, Vash tosses his head back, arching into your touch. “Feels… so good!” He whines, tilting his neck so you have better access. With a grin, you lick a stripe up his pulse point, making him shiver and sending even more blood rushing to his cock.

“Don’t stop. Pleeeease.” Vash grinds against your hand, desperation bleeding into his voice. You squeeze his cock gently, making him let out a strangled “aaaah!” and lean his forehead onto your shoulder. “Baby, please… You’re killin’ me.”

Laughing softly, you free him from his boxers, tapping your fingers on the precum leaking from the tip and stringing it out, then slicking your palm over the head. His reaction is instant—whole body shaking and cheeks flushing hot as he unsuccessfully tries to keep his composure, letting out a loud “fuck!”

Using the collected slick as lube, you grip tightly around his cock, jerking the shaft slowly and avoiding grazing the head until he calms down.

“Good boyyyyy. Look at you being so good for me, Vash~”

He whines again, thrusting up into your hand and biting his lip, completely at your mercy. The greatest outlaw in history and he was absolute putty in your hands.

“W-what—” Vash chokes out while you continue stroking. “What about you??” Gripping the sheets, Vash closes his eyes and moans loudly when you lean down to flick over the head with your tongue.

“What about me?~” You look up at him, still holding onto his cock with your mouth open, drops of pearly pre on your tongue.

He huffs out a sigh, trying to compose himself. “You make it really hard to think, you know that?”

Nodding, you close your mouth and swallow, noting a slightly different flavor—more earthy, green notes than any you’d tasted before. Weird?

“I mean…” Vash reaches out and pulls you up into a kiss, then holds onto your shoulder. “What if we worked at the same time??”

oH…

“Are you sure?”

He grins again, nodding fast. Crawling up to the pillows, Vash holds out his hands and motions for you to scoot back towards him. You oblige, glad your face is hidden as he grabs your hips and pulls you to his mouth, immediately licking around the edges of your still-wet folds.

Letting out a pitiful whine, your focus falters momentarily, lost in the haze of pleasure Vash’s tongue is bringing you. You reach out to find his cock, having to stretch a bit to reach (since he’s so tall), but returning quickly to your pattern of stroking the shaft and teasing the head.

All you can do is focus on your rhythm as Vash continues to distract you with his flicks and sucks as he moans into your pussy. You can feel yourself getting wetter as both of you work, slick beginning to drip down your thighs (and you imagine, Vash’s face).

Crying out in pleasure, you pull away from Vash’s cock, clenching your legs as you feel yourself come close. “No, Vash’s it’s—!!”

You didn’t want to come so fast, but your body had other ideas, letting out a small gush of fluid as Vash teases your slit and rubs your clit, making you spill over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, feeling Vash sit up and lower your hips to his waist.

“Are you ready now??~”

You expect him to be upset or shy, but when you look back, he has another stupid grin on and looks happier than ever.

The humanoid typhoon sure was something.

“Ye-yeah, if you are…”

Vash finds a washcloth on the nightstand and dries his face while he watches you take off your bra, asking, “I don’t think we have any protection right now… Do you want me to pull out, or…??”

“I think that’s the only thing we can do? Unless you want to pause and go find some~”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I know I’m clean, I got a big checkup from the guy who made my arm just a week or two ago. Plus, we don’t really know if Plant DNA is compatible with human…”

“Hm?” He had said it so nonchalantly that you almost didn’t notice. “Plant? Like, the energy sources?”

Putting a hand to his chest, he nods. “I’m a plant. Not exactly the same variety as the ones in the power cells, but the same genetics. My caretaker Rem always said me and my brother were a ‘miracle’.”

“Can we talk about it more later?” You prompt gently, glancing down at his cock. “I’m glad I unlocked some Vash the Stampede lore, but I think we were in the middle of something??~~”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course.”

There’s a twinge of sadness in his gaze now and you move forward, taking his face in your hands again. “I can’t wait for you to be inside me, Vash. Please. Fuck me.”

Smiling softly, Vash eases you onto his lap and holds securely around your waist with his metal arm. With his other hand, he guides his cock to your entrance, going slow and giving you time to adjust to his size as he eases inside you. When he hits the base, he leans into your shoulder, cockwarming himself a few moments as you acclimate.

“Jeez, you feel so good…” Vash murmurs into your hair, sighing happily. You wrap your legs around his waist tighter, trusting him to keep you upright. He fills you snugly, but not so much it hurts, and you clench around him once, letting out a whimper as he still refuses to move.

Pressing your hips down, you grind onto his pelvis, rocking yourself slowly as you hide into Vash’s neck and moan softly. He keeps the moment slow and intimate, rocking his hips up into you, matching your pace and energy until you’re ready for more.

It’s all so intimate—the sweat-drenched skin, panting breaths, hands grabbing into hair, feverish kisses, and complete trust. You’re intoxicated with the way Vash treats you like a goddess; a being worthy of worship and devotion. The way he kisses your breasts, grabs at your hips and waist, the way he times and angles his thrusts—his every thought is of pleasing you.

Laying back, Vash lets you stay on top, moving his hands to your hips to help you ride him. Bucking up with increasingly desperate thrusts, he lets out strings of “ah!!!” and “nnh!” with every motion, matching your chorus of whimpering cries. As you ride him, you reach down to your clit, rubbing slow circles as Vash pounds your sensitive pussy from below.

You can feel your second orgasm of the morning build quickly as your legs shake, your endurance starting to wane even as Vash continues unhindered. Holding still, you quietly scream out Vash’s name when your peak finally hits hard, squeezing your breasts through the shockwaves to heighten your sensations.

He watches you, lost in bliss, and memorizes every moment for later. He’s never seen anyone look as beautiful as you do in this moment: face contorted in pleasure and every part of you caught alight in bliss because of him.

Vash is feeling overwhelmed in the moment too; it can take time for a plant to come, even though they’re highly sensitive, as their complex sensory and nervous system has to partially restructure to prepare for genetic transfer. Vash can feel his non-metal arm go slightly numb as he gets even harder, noting that he’ll need to drink more water and be out in the sun again to regenerate later.

“Hey…” Vash smiles at you, watching as you slump onto his stomach. “I’m still not quite ready yet. Can you take more??”

Raising your head up from his stomach, you give him a weak but happy thumbs up.

He coos softly, pulling you up to lay on the pillows, “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work. Just rest.”

Laying back, warmth still flowing out to your hands and feet from your high, you close your eyes as Vash lifts your hips to rest against his thighs. You soon feel his slick tip meet your slit and push forward, settling himself inside again. This time, however, the slow pace from the start is all but forgotten, Vash chasing his relief as he slams himself flush against you.

You can only focus on the sensory aspect of it all: the sound of his skin slapping against yours, the way neither of you can catch your breath, and how his grunts and moans get louder the faster he pounds.

Pushing toward your next orgasm, your clit is getting overstimulated by the metal of Vash’s thumb, mimicking your own motions from earlier and bringing tears to your eyes. You almost tell him to stop, but hold out, knowing he has to be close as he slows down, spluttering out, “I’m!!! I’m— nnh!!”

Sitting up onto your elbows, you watch as Vash pulls out of you, his tip bright red and swollen. He’s whimpering, almost crying, as he reaches down to swipe your slick onto his fingers and palm, making a fist and punching his cock through at a relentless pace.

“I’m so close!!! Gah!!! I’m! I’m coming—!!!” Vash is panting desperately, moaning out your name as he finally releases, splashing warm cum onto your stomach and thighs.

Completely drained, Vash shuffles on his knees to you and flops down, hiding his face into the pillows.

Sitting all the way up, you glance down at Vash’s cum on you and pick up a strand, analyzing it quietly: it’s slightly greenish in tint, a bit shimmery, and has a consistency more akin to translucent aloe vera than human cum. Popping your finger into your mouth, the same strange taste is still there—like lemongrass or cucumber mixed with a warm buttery taste.

Vash was full of surprises…

Looking over at your bed companion, you smile, seeing him already half asleep.

“Heyyyy, you did so good, baby. Rest, I’ll be right back…”

Petting his hair, just like the night before, you press a kiss to his forehead and go to clean up, leaving a sleepy Stampede to recharge until your return.

Do not repost or recc this work on tiktok / ao3 / wattpad, etc. It is meant for a tumblr-exclusive audience only 😚❤️‍🩹

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #n/s/f/w #trigun smut #vash smut #x reader #angel voices #vash the stampede

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