#but it turned out pretty well so I suppose it was worth it

[horsechestnut]

Me? Favoritism? Never.

Link to the other bat-kids!

[bisexualiteaa]

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT.

logan and y/n — where you are completely in love with a man older then your father by a good 100 years.. and whose in love with another.

- content warning age gap. nsfw. sh. angst. not really happy endings! pairings: older!logan howlett x xaiver!reader

spoiler: horrible yearning!

note this is my first piece of work so i hope it’s okay! i love logan sm i had to write something for him — and this is really angsty :) pls ignore if there’s any bad grammar! i’m a bit lazy rn, also with the timeline for this fic i have no idea when im going for. im saying 2000s-2010s just remember its a bit scrambled timeline wise cos i wanted my favs here!🤭 enjoy!

you hated when he was around. you couldn’t stand it anymore. your longing glances to him, the yearning looks you gave him which were never returned and only thrown back into your face when you saw how he was looking at jean the way you looked at him.. it had all been getting too much. at first you acted like it didn’t bother you and part of your school-girl crush deluded brain pretend you were just seeing things but as the weeks / months had passed you realised that was the furthest thing from the truth.

recently you couldn’t even bring yourself to glance at him because it hurt too much and that wasn’t even being dramatic, the aching feeling in your heart wasn’t worth getting a glimpse of his timeless beauty so every time he was around you bit down the urges swallowed your pride and acted as if he was nobody to you, just a good friend. a father figure, a teammate.

it felt rude at first, to you since you were the only one noticing it, how you just stopped all those little things you were doing but you couldn’t help it or stop yourself from being like that because it was too hard to deal with — loving someone so much with all your heart but you knew you couldn’t have them. you hated to admit it but it destroyed you and that little part of you right now was falling into a full blown rage as you sat on the sofa alongside logan and wade — charles, hank, scott and rogue being present in the room too.

“i just don’t get her.” scott said out, repeating the same line over again, still bitching about the fight him and jean had after they all got back from the mission — everyone could hear the screaming and scott’s harsh gaze when he entered the room just confirmed it all and the second,of course, logan asked a question after wade made a snarky comment that set off scott and he hadn’t stopped mansplaining it since.

“yea’ well certain people don’t.” logan gruffly spoke out as y/n couldn’t stop her eyes from moving over to him at his words, feeling a sense of hurt coarse through her like it usually did whenever he spoke about jean or implied her. everyone knew what logan’s comment meant and y/n could see how scott was biting his tongue, clearly pissed off like he always was around logan. for good reason.

the tension only grew worse when scott couldn’t help himself and made a comment right back at him, his eyebrows raised as he stood from his seat. charles attention turning right to scott instead of logan, “and what’s that supposed to mean, asshole?” scott spat out like his words were venom.

rogue rolling her eyes at his words as hank shared a little glance with y/n who was cursing the entire situation in her brain as she couldn’t stop herself from looking at logan — those very same feelings boiling in her body as she saw the way his mouth twitched and his jaw clenched. how protective he was getting over jean, a feeling y/n couldn’t help have been wishing for the past two years of knowing the man he would get like over her — sure in a friends way he might’ve done it before, at least that’s how she saw but it never like this.

y/n swore she could physically feel her heart aching.

“pretty sure you know what that means pal.” logan bit back harshly, his words falling to the same tone as scott’s did as scott scoffed at what he said as he bit back with full frustration as charles clearly wanted to get involved - a little grimance pictured on his face as y/n studied her fathers expression, him clearly knowing what jean meant to logan, as y/n looked away before her dad could catch her staring her eyes falling onto a pissed off scott who downed the drink he had in his hand, placing it on the table.

“she picked me.” was all scott needed to say as the weight in the room shifted heavily on logan’s end as everyone could see the way logan’s face dropped a little, that comment taking the little coy expression he had right away but y/n didn’t even bring herself to look, scott’s eyes taking her in as if he knew what she was feeling in this moment. his eyes meeting her own as y/n felt a lump form her throat — the tightness almost burning — as he tutted at how silent logan was before he walked out the room without another word.

with this the room fell silent. everyone knowing the feelings logan must’ve been harbouring right now, y/n especially, as she glanced over to him not expecting to be met with his brown eyes looking back at her as he took in her expression before he roughly got up without another word — going right over to the door.

chaeles couldn’t help himself as he spoke up firmly the second he watched logan head for the door, “logan—“

“just goin’ for a piss, wheels.” he roughly said back before the door shut right behind him.

“more like a bitchless weaping session.” wade couldn’t help say as he had left the room, hank and rogue not being able to help their little laughs from coming out as y/n bit down on the inside of her cheek limiting the feelings she was experiencing as much as she could before she stood up.

“—i’m going to shower.” y/n said out lowly, her words slipping out quickly as the others nodded or hummed in agreement, wades eyebrows furrowing as he clearly felt he knew more of the situation then the rest did but he kept that to himself.

“take some pics for me!” wade called back to her, earning a little look from charles as hank scoffed in reply.

— +ੈ✩‧₊˚

that shower was more like watching a re run of singing in the rain which y/n couldn’t help watch the entirety of for no specific reason before she eventually hoped in the shower. the faint sounds of her speakers being heard as she hummed along to the lyrics of the specific song as she felt the cold water glide down her naked body.

swallowing the pain-filled whimpers that were aching to escape her wet lips as she acted as if the water gracing against all those marks and burns on her skin wasn’t killing her inside despite her ‘little’ case of immortality. immortality sadly didn’t mean you never experienced pain and y/n was clearly the leading case proving that matter as she soon got out the shower after washing her hair and her body.

wrapping the towel around her dainty body as she took in herself in the mirror, the thoughts forming in her brain being within the ‘self loathing’ category as she exited her bathroom. her face falling once she was met with the gruff expression on logans face which turned to one of shock as his eyes scanned over y/n immediately. him swallowing his own spit as y/n hands immediately wrapped around her towel just to make sure it wouldn’t fall.

“lo— shit, i didn’t know you were here.” she quickly managed out, her face a bright shade of red as she watched as logan didn’t move his gaze off her figure.

“—wait.” not a single word escaping his lips as y/n walked over to her bed where her clothes were laid out for her.

y/n’s breath was hitched and she swore she felt all the heat rush to her face as she took in the way logan was just staring at her as she grabbed her clothes with her other hand, taking a few steps back into the bathroom before she swiftly shut the door. her mind a mess as she quickly put on her pajamas before she sprung over to the mirror to double check her appearance before she walked back out to her bedroom.

logan being in the exact same place she had left him — not a single word had left his lips and his facial expression was the exact same as y/n nervously smiled at him.

“what are you doing— uh, here?” y/n asked him swiftly, her words rushed as she swore she could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she saw logan slowly seem to come back to reality, scratching the back of his neck as his lips parted as he tried to say something.

yet it took a little for something to come out as y/n swore she felt something growing in the air as logan finally spoke, his gruff tone a little knocked back then usual, “was coming here to bitch about scott. didn’t mean to see anything i shouldn’t have.”

his words sent a little chill through y/n’s spine as she managed a little smile on her lips, no matter how fake it was she still managed it, as she looked at him. his first words being all the confirmation her heart needed in this moment as she held back her feelings as she felt her heart tense.

“it’s okay.” y/n rolled out quietly, her attention falling over to her bed as she walked over to the foot off it — sitting down on the edge of the bed as logan stayed in place, his arms crossed as he leaned against the fireplace in her room now.

“so scott, you wanna bitch?” y/n trailed off into as logan looked out the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts as he shrugged his shoulders.

“nah, not anymore.” he said, his voice low as y/n took in his hush voice — his words only adding to the building up tension that was making the air thick as y/n looked at him. her eyes taking in every inch off him and how he looked, her mind wondering how he’d feel.. how’d he’d taste.

yet her thoughts were immediately cut short.

“—you seen jean about?”

his words were like a harsh hit round the face as she felt a lump for her in throat, her mind tingling a little as she glanced over to the door. she hated this, every inch of this. she wanted to scream, punch him in the face. confess right there and there at him but she didn’t. she couldn’t.

no matter how much it killed her inside. every second without him being like a gun shot to the heart as she plainly looked back at him, a soft smile growing on her face which was so fake it was indescribable as she nodded to her bedroom door.

“her room, i guess.”

her low words were enough to make anyone know she was hurt yet of course logan didn’t, or he didn’t show he knew as he gave her a playful wink.

“thanks bub.” he said with a nod as he went to walk out the room — his hand on the door when y/n heard his muttered words.

“sleep well y/n.”

his words fell into silence as y/n watched him leave, the door closing behind him being the utmost reminder of how her feelings will probably never be acknowledged. and that harsh reality left her alone in her bedroom for the entire night and with every toss and turn her mind was on one thing and one thing only. him.

— +ੈ✩‧₊˚

[sescoups]

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist

word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)

summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.

a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3

“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”

“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.

Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”

“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”

Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.

“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”

“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”

You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.

The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”

The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.

“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”

You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”

His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.

“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”

“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”

The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.

You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.

The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.

It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.

While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.

Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.

“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”

You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.

“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”

He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.

You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.

“What the fuck, Nonnie?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”

“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”

The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.

“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”

“So good,” he nods earnestly.

You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.

“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”

He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.

You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.

The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.

“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.

“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”

“Nice.”

“You gonna work or rest, bud?”

Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.

“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”

“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”

He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.

When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.

“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”

“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.

“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”

Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.

“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”

“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”

He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.

“Sorry. That was TMI.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”

“What about?”

Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.

“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”

“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”

“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”

His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.

“What, are you offering?”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.

You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…

The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.

“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.

“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”

You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”

There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.

He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.

“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”

You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.

Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.

He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.

His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.

You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.

“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”

Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.

One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.

“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.

The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.

You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.

“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”

“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.

“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”

You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.

His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.

“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.

“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.

“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”

You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.

Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.

“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”

You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.

“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.

“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”

The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.

His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.

You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.

“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.

“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.

“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”

You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”

His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.

Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.

“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.

He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.

“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”

“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”

“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”

He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.

masterlist

a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3

[dcangel]

kinda hyper-fixated on riding stiles and calling him a big boy at the same time.

because this man boy would sit there underneath you, bottom teeth scraping at his upper lip as he tries to contain his pretty whimpers that kept escaping him. his fingers gripping, digging into the pudgy fluff of your hips and thighs. “y’so tight.”

your nails scratched at his v-line, deep red lines being left by pretty maroon nails—his favorite colors. “jus’so fucking big, sti…” you breathed out, “such a big boy, hmm?”

“mm-mhm.” he whines softly. stiles couldn’t believe how turned on he was by her dirty words, by how much he wanted to please her. who knew such an innocent, doe-eyed girl could spew such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.

you couldn’t help it, with the way he was stretching your walls and pressing those oh so good spots inside you that your own fingers couldn’t reach, how were you supposed to maintain that ingenuousness?

his nails burrowed into your soft skin, leaving little crescent shapes. his eyes were glued to where he disappeared inside you with each bounce and thrust. the wet squelching noises were squalid, and most times he couldn’t hear much else. only when his view was obstructed by your face did his pull his eyes up to meet yours. you flattened yourself against him; your stomach on his, and your breasts resting on his chest. to stiles, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact was worth more than words. it was the only thing that could bring him back to this planet after you overworked him.

you smiled when you saw those gorgeous brown eyes of his finally connecting with yours. “there we go.”

stiles was overwhelmed; you were on top of him, giving him so many sensations, so many things to touch or relish in. he couldn’t choose. you leaned down to darken the fading hickey right at the base of his neck, having given him one in that spot a few days ago. you simply didn’t see a point in letting it fade. he might as well have gotten it tattooed if he wasn’t so afraid of needles.

a deep-purple mark bloomed right over the spotty red one, and you made sure he would still be able to hide it with his flannels for a few days. your thumb wiped the spit from the bruised skin so you could get a full view of your work. stiles knew he’d be admiring the mark in every mirror he passed by, thankful that it was only one tug of a shirt collar away.

your hips rocked against his, not even pulling up anymore. you just loved the way his tip grazed your cervix—like scratching an itch only he could get—and how your swollen clit ground against his lower abdomen.

“you’re so perfect,” his words came from a place deep in his mind, so breathy, so pussydrunk, “i love you.”

knowing stiles didn’t even care for a response in return, not that he’d even be aware of one, you kissed his swollen lips (both his and your doing) to bring him back down to earth, even if only for a few seconds. you thumbed over the plush skin, purely admiring your boy, feeling both proud of and admirable of his prevailing state.

“you’re so good, sti.” the words weren’t really meant as a praise for him. rather, you said it because you genuinely meant it. “my big boy. fillin’ me up so well.”

you swore you saw something behind his eyes malfunction. his cock twitched inside you as he grasped at your hips, unintentionally taking control for just a few seconds so he could move you back and forth, his dick slapping against your spongy walls. your fingers pressed into his shoulders as you clung around him like a vice.

stiles was whimpering desperately and hastily, each one interrupting the next. it was so refreshing that stiles wasn’t afraid to let those sound freely flow from his pretty mouth or be loud for you. he didn’t care if his noises weren’t deep and guttural, although they certainly could be at times. and you favored either or depending on who was taking care of who; his whiny whimpers and soft moans coming out when he was desperate and being especially needy, or his low, throaty groans and praises when he needed to show you how much he loved you.

“i—shit,” he whimpered, high pitched and needy like you adored. “f-fuck,” stiles groaned deeply. it was so broken up, his voice so cracked, so desperate that it sounded like he was pleading. not pleading for a release, but pleading for forgiveness. you quickly felt his reason for pleading spill inside you: warm and thick.

“sorry, sorry, m’sorry.” stiles’ breaths were reduced ragged gasps as he clutched your waist, his arms finding their home around your body. “love you so much.”

you bit your lip at the gushing feeling flooding your already-filled hole. “hmnn, stiles.” you felt him bury his face in your neck, sweaty skin on sweaty skin as he murmured apologies and compliments of how good you feel.

it was moments like these that softened your heart even through such intimacy; moments where he came without warning or any signs, where his forehead nestled perfectly in the curve at the base of your neck, where he was reduced to muffled, strangled whines and sometimes apologies if he could muster them. and all because of a few words—of course with the help of being inside you, but you were sure you could probably just make him come with your words alone.

somewhere along the way of your cunt throbbing in time with his milked cock, and slowly lifting your hips only to drop them back down lazily, you found your own sweet release. stiles was slightly overworked, slightly overstimulated, but this was such a perfect sight in your eyes.

you took a peek down at where the two of you connected, and a thin, white-ish ring was formed at the base of his length. each time you lifted yourself up, strings of milky white liquid kept another physical attachment with him. the build up was definitely worth it in its own way, but the release was divine. as always, though. stiles, even when he may not be completely all there in the moment, always knew how to send you hurdling toward what you swear is the best orgasm each time. he’s definitely fought you before for who had the better orgasm, ending in round twos all the way to round fives. how you two managed to make it that far was a damn mystery as well as a miracle.

but right now, you were only focused on your boy—your pretty boy, and the alluring noises seeping from those pink, kiss-bitten lips. “’love you more, pretty boy.” you halfheartedly chaffed.

his response was the reason for the returning gibes: a small muffled whine of some muddled words. and stiles never failed to live up to any nicknames or unserious expectations you tauntingly gave him.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm: Mondays

Male Yandere Harpies x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, harpies, general yandere behavior, captive reader, spit roasting, cum in hair, aftercare, male harem, brief mention of being used as a cock sleeve by bull men.) Word Count: 500 (Here it is! I have had a solid wave of productivity lately answering old asks and now there is this, something I said I would do a long time ago. I said I would make a mini-fic/drabble with every group of monster men from my animal farm fic which can be found HERE.)

You sighed. It was early on Monday morning, the sun starting to stream into the window enough to disturb your sleep. You glared at your alarm clock and preemptively turned off the alarm that would go off at 10:00. It was 9:53. You wanted to cry. You had not fully recovered from Rory, Sev, and Bruc swapping you between them as a communal cock sleeve all day on Friday. You lamented your decision to be a monster man farmer with so many different species. You should have stuck to one or two. Oh well… no use crying over it now. At least you started the week off easy after your weekend break. The harpy men had pretty forgiving cocks. Ugh. Was that what it had come to? Judging how not awful your day was by the brutality of the cocks you were about to encounter? You scarfed down a quick breakfast then enjoyed your last few minutes before you were swarmed by the three harpies that called your farm home, Zan, Xilra, and Elry. They all looked similar, green and blue feathers in their hair, emerald green eyes to match, dark skin, with large angel-like wings sprouting from their backs and their legs ended in the way any bird of prey’s did. Sharp. Talons. When you stepped into the aviary your watch read exactly 10:30, you weren’t giving them a second more than you were forced to. It was like your one shred of resistance, even though it didn’t really matter very much. You also were too scared to be late after what happened the one time you were. You were sniffed out and fucked. Swiftly. As soon as you stepped into the large greenhouse-like domed building, it was like a miniature forest complete with all sorts of trees and plants, you were instantly pounced upon by the three monster men. They wasted not a single second in taking off your clothes and tossing them aside on the dirt while pinning you to the wall. “Hey come on! Those were just cleeeEEEEAAAAAANNNED. H-hey!” Two of them were biting, licking and nuzzling all over your neck while the third was using his mouth between your legs. “W-w-why do we always have to start the d-daaaay like thiiiiis??” “We love you little starling~” “Yes! And we must show you!” “We haven’t been inside you for a whole week love! It was torture~” “We must make up for the lost time sweet bird.” And that they certainly did. A week's worth of the pent up libidos of three tall harpy men unloaded on you and in you within hours. They spit roast you while you were on the ground before taking you in mid air. By the end of their breeding session with you you were exhausted. And this was supposed to be the easy day. At least they let you rest afterwards, washing the cum out of your hair and off your sore body before cuddling you and petting you while they sang sweet little bird songs and praised their darling little starling~

[lillotte17]

*throws more Veilguard Banter into the gaping maw of Tumblr and then flees*

~~

Solas: “I have another question, Varric. If I may?”

Varric: “Just the one?”

S: “For now. I must admit, I was surprised to see that you were the one they asked to make an attempt at dissuading me from completing my mission. Not to belittle our prior bonds of friendship, but if the intent was to send an agent who might presumably hold some power of persuasion over me, I…would have thought another candidate might have seemed like the more obvious choice.”

V: “Would it really have changed anything if she had been the one telling you to stop?”

 S: “I…do not know. I should think not.”

V: “But at least you would have gotten to see her again, right?”

S: “Perhaps.”

V: “Heh, don’t you worry, Chuckles, I’m sure you’ll get your chance. The fact that I was here instead of her is more of a fluke than anything else. She was more than eager to follow up on the tip that led us to you, but then the kid insisted on tagging along, and you know how it is.”

S: “…kid?”

V: “Right, the kid. You probably haven’t seen him either.”

S: “…No. I have not. Although, I would have thought that there would have been news if the Herald of Andraste had… Well. I suppose there is wisdom in striving to keep such affairs private. I certainly have no right to voice an objection.”

V: “Why would you object to seeing the kid again?”

S: “Again? I… You are referring to Cole.”

V: *snorts* “Well, yeah. Who’d you think I was talking about?”

S: “Never mind.”

~

Rook: “So, Varric, do you really think the Inquisitor is going to show up?”

Varric: “Oh, don’t worry, she’ll be here. She’s been searching high and low for Chuckles for nearly a decade.”

R: *whistles* “And she never caught up to him in all that time?”

V: “Once. It…didn’t end well. After that, a few of our agents came close over the years, but it turns out that the world is a pretty big place, and tracking a lone elf with a network of magical transportation mirrors on his side is about as tricky as you’d expect. It’s even harder when you’ve got a notorious reputation and half of Thedas has seen portraits of your face. One whisper of the Herald of Andraste entering a city, and all our leads would vanish overnight.”

R: “But…I thought the two of them liked each other?”

V: “I think that made it worse, actually.”

Solas: “You do realize that I am standing right here?”

~

Solas: “For what it is worth, I am sorry about your Bianca, Varric.”

Varric: “Oh, you know, what’s an irreplaceable keepsake from the woman I can never be with in the grand scheme of things, anyway? At least you didn’t turn me to stone.”

S: “Your anger is justified. I do not expect your forgiveness, but I would apologize for my actions, none the less.”

V: “Look, if I were you, my forgiveness isn’t what I’d be worried about right now. Someone else has a much bigger bone to pick with you than I do.”

S: “I am not expecting her forgiveness, either.”

V: “So, you’re not even going to try?”

S: “And what, precisely, should I be trying, Master Tethras? This is hardly the sort of situation to be solved by a bouquet of flowers and a well-constructed poem.”

Rook: “Maybe you could send chocolates?”

V: “I was going to suggest groveling, actually.”

[ghostssimp]

Aegon Targaryen//The Right One

As a daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were supposed to find a man who would take your hand in marrige. It's your duty to be wed away. Your grandfather Viserys, he made a royal gathering to find the best suitor for you.

The real problem is, you had one in your eyes.

Aegon Targaryen. Your uncle. It looked like history was repeating itself, thinking how your mother fell for Daemon. Targaryens always had traditions that others found weird, but to keep the blood pure, sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Even Alicent, who first was against it, was thinking of marrige between Aegon and Haelena. In the end, Haelena got married to Aemond.

As you stand in the corner of the room, you see how a lot of men are having their eyes on you. Eating ypu with the looks of desire and need for power. You were just a pawn to them. Greedy bastards only wanted to have a little part in the game of getting closer to the crown. The sad truth is that they had no idea what it meant to be on the top.

You're always watched. Can't have a moment for yourself. Every step that you take is carefully watched by everyone. Every desicion is important and there is no place for mistakes. And as for women? You knew you were here for them to just spread your legs and give them a new heir. They didn't care for you. They didn't want you for love. Just to use you.

"Pretty boring out here, isn't it princess?" There is a low voice next to your ear and you can't help but smile as shiver runs down your spine. "I should be honored, my prince." Your eyes met his lilac. "After all, this is for my engagement."

Aegon scoffs, his eyes scanning the place. "Yes, but to whom?" His eyebrow rises as he takes a step closer, brushing the lock of hair from your face. "Neither of them are worthy of you."

Your breath hitched as your lips parted for a bit."And who is it then? I am nothing but a tool." Aegon looks at you, something battleing inside of his eyes. They always seemed distant, but when he talked to you, it felt like everything made sense back.

You were the only one to understand his pain. To understand his preassure. Who said he wanted to be a damn king as his mother was expecting him to be? Who said he wanted this life? His mother was always preaparing him for the big role he didn't wanted. To hell, his father didn't even look at him and he had to be ready to be a king?

"You are so much more than that." His fingers grazed beneath your chin, barely touching it leaving a ghost feeling underneath. His thumb crosses over your lips. The feeling of his rough skin on your soft lips made you feel like it was supposed to be like that. For your lips to belong to him. To any part of him. He glanced away, clenching his jaw. He was in a deep thought as he walked off.

Your eyes follow him as he gets lost in a crowd. You felt like you should've ran after him. You wanted to, but you were sceptic.

"Why is such a lady standing alone?" My head turns to see one of the lords over. Tyland Lannister. You never liked Lannisters. In your eyes, they were just a one more pawn that wanted to become a closer to a king. Maybe even to become a king.

"Just enjoying the gathering, my lord." You give him a polite smile. You didn't want to engage the conversation, but he seemed too interested in you. "Well, the night is long, and the songs are delightfull like you. Would you give me an honor, and give me your hand for a dance?" He chuckled extending his hand out.

You clench your jaw your lips in a thin line. "I really don't feel like dancing, my lord." His face changed to a frown. "Oh, am I not worth of a dance with your grace?" Something bubbled in you with his words. Anger, for him to use a guilt card. You didn't want to make a scene. You were a royalty afer all.

"That is not what I said, my lord." You take his hand. "Of course I would like to dance." There was a smug smile on his lips. You knew what he wanted. His grip got more like a possesive one as he pulled you onto the dance floor. His other hand held the small of your back. It felt like he was holding you too tight. Like he held you with greed.

Despite you trying to hide your discomfort, Tyland pulls you even closer and held you tightly to him. The two of you danced in a dead silence. You started to look around the place, trying to find someone to save you. To get you away. Your eyes searching around, it seemed like you were looking for a specific person. "Something is on your mind, princess?"

You look up to him giving him a fake sweet smile. "Not at all." When you look away, your eyes finally meet his with a pleading look in them. Aegon as soon as he catched your eye, stopped in his tracks and seemed to process the situation. He starts to make his way towards you, his eyes never leaving yours.

As Tyland takes you in for a spin, you extend your hand and Aegon takes it pulling you away and swaying off with you in a dance.

Aegon seemed proud with a smug smirk on his lips. "Tief." You say under your breath, feeling how he held you much more gentle as the two of you took off in a dance.

Aegon laughs heartly at your statement shaking his head. "You seemed like you needed rescuing." You nod your head, gazing up at him."You stole my heart, you stole me from my dancing partner. What is next?"

Aegon grins at your words, enjoying the playful banter between you. He spins you around, pulling you back against him as you continue the dance.

"I'm a greedy man, my princess," he says with a smirk, his hand on your back slipping lower for just a moment before resuming its usual position. "I'll steal whatever I can get my hands on."

His eyes never left yours. There was a glint of something in them. "Stop looking at me like that."

Aegon raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider at your words. "Like what?" He asks innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrays him. You have to bite the smile that wanted to escape your lips. "Like I'm a dinner."

"Oh, believe me, my princess, you're a feast fit for a king." He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And I'd happily devour every last bit of you." He pulls you impossibly closer, his hold on you possessive but tender at the same time. "Can you blame me for admiring you so? You're far too captivating to ignore." A chuckle escapes your lips.

"Va moriot gīmigon se paktot udir, gaomagon ao daor?" You're always finding the right words, aren't you? His eyes glanced down to your lips as he leaned his head to the side. He hums, you knew he enjoyed when you switched to Valyrian."Ñuha jorrāelagon, you're going to be a death to me." His voice just above a whisper. it was raspy and deep as you look at him in a haze through your lashes.

He leans in closer, his own eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting yours again, a mix of fondness and desire in his expression. "You keep looking at me like that, and I'll have to claim my future wife right here and then." He mumurs softly.

Your lips part in a shock. "Since when am I your future wife?" He smirks smugly, pulling you in, his face just inches away from yours.

"Since now. I'm not letting anyone else claim you. You're mine to have."

[pushingdaisies1]

Its never too late baby . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Mutant Reader >_<

(✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> You were always someone who utilized your strengths. Physical and mental, you were a jack of all trades. You were a true hero to the students you taught within the school. Amongst the other X-men, you would always be one of them. But you had this little tick, that always annoyed Logan no doubt. You were a secretive person, too secretive for even his "standards." For others, you were a pillar of nurture and guidance. He saw your well-meaning nature from miles away. It was almost sickening to him how you would stretch your capabilities out to no end. He would never deny that he could be selfish. Sometimes it's more worth it to save your spine, than risk it for someone else. Though with the problems being thrown the team's way as of recent, he always saw you spinning your wheels. You wouldn't reason with him even when he of all people would lend you a shoulder to cry on. Even the students at the school could see it. With their childish snickers and big-eyed looks at your comfortable banter with Mr. Howlett whenever he helped with class. You were in love with the Wolverine. Again, out of all the Canadians - him? It wasn't something like a schoolgirl crush. It was an infatuation sort of deal. You burned for him mind body and soul. You would pretty much follow this scoundrel to the ends of the earth, even the end of your life if prompted. Which causes something to break between you two after you risk your livelihood for your family. The people that made up your heart, including Logan.

(✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> hi party people!! I saw so much of the sweet reception for my first ever logan piece , so tysm!! Genuinely from the bottom of my heart the love means so much. As I’m currently going through my x-men marathon time if you will , I’ve had this idea brewing for a while. Thankfully the resurgence of logan content has given me the push needed to formulate this yk! This isn’t a part two to my previous logan post. That will be coming very shortly, but this is its own thing. Timeline wise... erm.... idrk a good place to put this SIGH. I'm thinking like in between x2 and the last stand. also one last final note , the title I took from Chemtrails over the country club. specifically the one lyric - "it's never too late baby so don't give up." felt like an appropriate whimsy title, nd I have been hearing that song everywhere lolz. Anyways, toodles!!! ᐢᗜᐢ (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Descriptions of blood and graphic injury , they/them pronouns for reader !! , mentions of major character deal , Logan cares too much ... which could mean nothing , ur comatose for like the good first chunk of this , Jean and u have LORE!!!!! (not rlly but u and her have backstory beefers/her "passing" affect reader 100%) , mourning/grief, And that's on having no healing powers!! Buh-dun-csh!!

Your fall from grace was quick on the battlefield. This was supposed to just be any regular mission. You were using it as a way to clear your head after all. But you took a leap too far and now here you were, plummeting. The issue at hand was apprehended, sure. But you didn't leave the fight unscathed. Your vision grew too spotty for you to even make out your surroundings. Your hearing too even started to fog. Looking down, somehow or some way a large-sized piece of shrapnel metal had made it into your torso. Right in the sweet spot that was not in the lungs. Your legs began to wobble, losing your footing slowly but surely. You didn't realize your body was falling to the ground. The warm feeling rushing through you was the blood exiting from your hefty wound. It was ironic the last thing your eyes met before collapsing. Logan turned back around immediately once he noticed you weren't clamoring to the jet. His heart sunk to his stomach as he immediately sprung over to you. By the time your head had smacked against the ground, you went out. Your fingertips began to buzz, your fatigue lifting all of a sudden. All of the hurt and weight on your shoulders lifted? You felt freer than before, with a piece of debree stuck inside of your body no more. Even if some people regarded mutants as the next step in human evolution, a majority were still stuck with fleshy bodies. If only you were made out of steel. In this momentary unconsciousness, you thought about everything that went wrong. Your existence as a whole, joining the school. Moving up from student to teacher at Professor Xavier's school, like Scott and Ororo you were one of the first. Regarded as maybe one of the most useful of the bunch. No one could ever compete with Storm, the literal incarnate of a goddess. You thought of her as your eyes closed, embraced with the warm memories of your early days within the school.

The professor was never one to play favorites among his students. But when he searched you out and arrived with a less conniving Magneto at your door, it was clear you were special to him and his cause. From that day forward you were seen as a pillar of hope to a lot of the students. To some, you were like a mother, to others a guardian who would save them no matter the risk. To Logan Howlett - "The Wolverine", you were a coward. A coward that he admired. A coward he respected due to the ways you handled... stress in the simplest of terms. From the day he met you, he wandered around the halls of the mansion bewildered and confused. Something about you stuck out. He would've done something with this urge sooner if his eyes weren't honed in on another.

From day one you were not surprised how fast he fell and yearned for Jean. The woman you saw as your confidant, your best friend, she was magnificent. Smart and poised all in one with a strong set of mutant abilities. She was on the same power level as the professor, which made sense for their connection.

For living in Jean's shadow, you didn’t hate it. You were her right-hand man. Your balance was comforting, she was like your sister. The professor in small quiet moments of honesty to you liked to compare you to him and Magnus. When times were simpler they weren’t at opposing ends of the mutant kind spectrum. Yours and Jean's dynamic made you feel at ease with yourself. How could you worry? Your identity became a part of hers a long time ago. Logan saw more to that with you. Sure you could nag a lot of the time, and you always barked up his tree whenever he found ways to smoke on school grounds. But you just had this pull for him. He'd always find his way to see you first whenever entering a room. His brash and gritty attitude always got all mushy around you. He over time grew a lot more fond of the smallest details when it came to you. He was an amnesiac, his past only bits and pieces. But you made him feel grounded. You cherished his growth in ways no one else had. You were the reason why he was so drawn to the "now" of life. He needed that in times like this. He couldn't keep up for long after the realization that Jean was gone finally sunk in. Drowning at his one-sided attraction, the longing that he could've done more, you pulled him right out from that rut. Thank god that the two of you combined had horrible sleep schedules. His nightmares still stirred while you were suddenly afflicted with these with the memories of being on that jet when it wouldn't take off. That same pain rocketed through you every night as you were haunted by the sight of Jean finally swept into the oncoming flood. The feeling of grief ricocheted throughout the entire school. But you found your way to stay afloat. It was Logan, which you never thought of yourself admitting. But truth be told it was him. He was the most anchoring thing around you. Ororo distanced herself for the first month, while Scott cracked under the pressure of grief. Late nights dashing around the campus halls to the kitchen, out to the court where you two just talked. You had never seen him talk so much until you two became each other's support. It made you feel better seeing him smile more. Especially when it was at you. Again, you would never utter that truth EVER. At least that's what you thought. But his smile was a nice reminder of all of the light he held inside of him. As much as he despised ... everything, he was still so nurturing in his own ways. Nightmares were an excuse for him to be next to you. Nightmares were his excuse to hold you tight to his chest. The pain of loss was a collective "excuse" between the two of you to just .. be close.

Soon though, this ideal predicament between you both started to crack. Because even though she was dead, you still knew you would always be inferior. It may be all in your head but the hate kept you driven. It kept you driven but also mad. Small things would set you off soon enough. You knew deep down whenever he'd look into your eyes, it was a nice reminder of Jean. Even with how much he denied it when you came to him in tears, your bitter pain and grief clouded your judgment.

Logan saw that even with his help you were still hurting. He didn't want to get involved in it entirely as some of it was your own demon. But he saw how bad your spiraling was and still wouldn't accept his help. Not even from Ororo or Scott, not even the professor. Neither of you would admit who started the argument. It was late, and you were tired from pushing yourself to grade papers. Logan couldn't sleep and wandered his way to your classroom of course. The conversation was fine until he mentioned the problem. Your problem which you didn't want to deal with right now. As you were only running on a few hours of sleep. But even with Logan's usual "take and give no fucks" attitude, he knew he needed to push. You were slowly shutting yourself off this time, and he didn't expect himself to be a part of that mix. It was all a misunderstanding, but the two of you were angry and fire was thrown.

Your shared feelings were complicated. This whole ordeal with him brought out the "worst parts" of your love for him. He too was dealing with his internal dilemma. How could he move on from Jean and you were still latched onto the idea of her? It was a stupid question that was brought up in a Logan way, which of course caused the spat to escalate. His poor mistake was what he shouted. Already with the fear of waking one or even all of the students, you hated what he even dared to utter. "We're friends, you need to calm down about this whole obsession thing bub!" Originally you were thinking of just heading to bed. You were too tired to continue on with this constant bickering. But that's when you exploded on him. You regretted every last word you said to his face. Because it was you speaking your honest truth. About what you felt for him, about your hurt and your pain. How Jean was practically your lifeline. Losing her was like losing a piece of yourself. Especially since you rubbed it in about the kiss he and her shared. That you had seen and that made you sick to your stomach. A couple hours later she was dead. Your heightened emotions make you feel almost dizzy. The more you talked the more you realized his expressions distinct shift. As he was reaching out for you, you immediately swatted his arm askew. He didn't realize he hated to see you cry as much as he did until now. With broken sobs, you ran out of your classroom. The papers once stacked neatly were now laid messily all over your desk. You made sure to keep quiet. What broke your heart even more was a half-awake Rogue you ran into. She looked even more awake seeing your distraught state. Her feet tip-toed against the wooden floors of the hall before she looked at you. A big reason you and Logan were so close too, was because of Rogue. She was a good kid, he always rubbed off on her. He told you everything about how he and Rogue met. You were so enamored hearing him recount even the foggiest of memories. It could even be arguments with Scott he had, you'd just sit there with wide eyes as you listened. His word became your gospel. It warmed you to your core hearing him almost sound like a dad. He had looked out for her from the beginning. You always tried to do the same even when he left for Alklai Lake for answers.

It was so silly when she had practically pushed you and Logan to talk. She was just a kid and you two took up the almost suto role of her protectors. Friend or parent, she too found two trusted people to confide in. So you immediately went into "teacher mode" as soon as she saw you with watery eyes. She looked puzzled when her face met yours. You calmed down her storm of questions as she sputtered on and on. What's wrong? , is something happening? Are you okay? The hug you shared was one of the last meaningful hugs you had with another living being. You practically cradled her in your arms as you helped her calm down. She looked up at you, her larger brown eyes almost like the ones of a puppy. "Please don't be lying to me... y'know ah don't like liars." She whispered softly, her bubbly southern accent quiet. Your heart broke into a couple more pieces as you lied through your teeth. With a content nod, you bidded her a goodnight. Turning back to your room to drown your sorrow in god knows what. It had only been a good couple of months after Jeans' death that a mission arose. The X-men were laying low after everything at the base. For the school's and students' sake. But it was always on time when something bad happened for the team to fix. Old enemies came a-knocking and this time it wasn't Magneto. It was all supposed to be an in-and-out operation. You immediately clamored to get your hands dirty once again. You and Logan hadn't been talking for the last couple of days. Not even meeting in the dead of night to speak to another. You longed to hear about his afternoons subbing with Storm. This was your chance to regain some well-needed level-headedness. The thrill of doing what's right for a better tomorrow always made you feel better The mission even got Scott to come out of his puddle of mourning. Making you feel even better seeing your good friend so triumphant as he quickly clamored for his uniform. You and Logan didn't even brush shoulders as Storm and Scott dashed off to prepare the jet for takeoff. Everything should have gone fine. You should have all made it out alive. Every single one of you, that's what you had planned. Your lapse in judgment will always be your curse. Because now here you were, in the lap of the man that made your stomach churn. That made you feel LIKE that silly schoolgirl feeling you despised. Snapping back to reality, you realize where you are currently laid. Logan's eyes eased from his previous panicked look of fear as he saw you conscious. You were still bleeding but it seems that with quick medical attention either one of them got it to lessen. Your heart raced as you felt the warmness of his hands as they pressed against your cheeks. "Come on, there you go. Just focus on me." He cooed to your heaving chest. In the far back of the jet, you couldn't see Ororo or Scott. What you could see though was the remnants of blood on Logan's suit. He must have carried you off of the rubble and into the X-jet. Your smile was nothing compared to the horrid wince that left you. Finally, after this long moment of ease, the pain set in.

Going down to hold your gut, you shuddered as your vision all of a sudden wavered. You took in a sharp breath as finally, you noticed how in bad shape you were. Red filled your palm as you shuddered. Thankfully Logan noticed you and your shaky breath and immediately gripped your hand. Even in this state, you were currently in, you would always be able to focus on him. "I know, I know it's scary. You got hit pretty bad, but it's okay. Just focus on me and you'll be okay? I have you." He encouraged softly with that comforting rasp in his throat. His eyes were shaken and his lip was firm. Though his mood lightened somewhat because at least now you were awake.

You tried to speak but you were so weak. That same fatigue stung you as you stumbled over your words. He cradled you in his arms as he kept his eyes only on you. Your weary mind still around belittling you, another one of your eerily humane curses. He saw your chest quicken and lip quiver as your eyes began to lull, you were struggling. "Hey .. don't strain yourself - what is it?" He too began to worry as you saw his vulnerability bloom. Finally your chest steady as you took in one big breath of air. You let out the one thing keeping you from slipping back into rest in one huff. "Don't let me die, asshole." The asshole part came out more garbled from you after you coughed out your last words. Your last words before your eyes fell closed. For some reason, your hearing stayed for just a while longer. In and out, you could hear him cursing under his breath. The last thing you hear is Logan's panicked shouting at Scott, "Can this hunk of metal go any faster?!"

Finally, after so much pain, there was quiet. Peace and quiet after your constant heartache. You felt freed from the chains of reality. From birth to now, now seemed like your death. You left your current reality with a bitter-sweet smile as you felt consciousness swarm over you.

You couldn't feel how long you were out. Oh, but Logan could. Six weeks you lay in the infirmary. With some sort of miracle and hope, Ororo was barely able to stabilize you. The team rushed back into the mansion in panic as your wounds were assessed. But no, you couldn't feel the panic that coursed through your loved ones as you lay so peacefully. You didn't know your heart rate was being tracked. You were stable but anyone could guess it'd take you a while to re-reach consciousness. That your accident broke the barely well Scott Summers. But most of all it affected Logan to the core. He felt his world shake under him as he finally realized what had just happened. Something snapped in a man so stuck in his ways. Those words you said to him before you went back down. They were short but in the moment meant so much. Not to mention the fact that even Logan, so careless and free, was guilty. Every time he came back just to see you, he wanted to curl over and into you. Just like how he mourned Jean, he mourned you. Though .. he couldn't because you were technically still here. He may have not noticed it but everyone else could. The lack of your presence hindered him the worst. He missed the way you'd bother him out of the blue during the quiet time around the school. He missed you telling him about your life. He missed the shitty snort you did when you laughed too hard at one of his bad jokes. He missed seeing you happy. He missed seeing you move around. Pestering students for turning in assignments late or cheating. He missed the feel of your lips against his forehead when his nightmares of Jean flared up. He missed the way you looked at him. The way you saw him not only as a man but as himself. He didn't know how to admit it but he.. missed you. He missed you so bad and it was eating away at him. He spent hours out of his day visiting you. Like what you two always did when you were alone, he talked. About his day, what he ate, and even the lessons he overheard. The school got even quieter with you gone and he hated it. He felt bitter and broken, he didn't want to feel like that. He especially missed the way he felt with you. Almost like being on cloud nine. He finally understood the pain you felt when Jean died. This time on a more intimate level than he'd like to admit. He felt like the moon was ripped away from him after the sun. Now he was just the lonely tide, washing away against the shore until you returned. Ororo did all she could to help. All she could do was maintain your physical well-being as your body healed with rest. Logan hated the wait. The time you spent not walking around the halls of the school was maybe one of the worst times in his life. Since it hit him so deep on a real level. In this array of pain and even more guilt, he felt something dawn on him as you were still comatose. He was in love with you, Logan was in love with you. He felt like an idiot but the realization would always stay true. No matter how stupid he felt. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew. In the middle of his thought process, he heard the swift slide open of the infirmary doors.

Right now he was standing over you. The one thing that kept his spirits high about your recovery was the gentle rise and lower of your chest. He didn't have to look behind him to know it was Storm. She too had taken her time checking in on your unconscious form. He sighed as she walked up right beside him. She gently cupped the examination table where your body would lay. She looked down at her hands with a bitter-sweet smile on her lips. She looked over to Logan, who was at a pause with himself. She decided to finally break the long silence. "You know they'll be fine, right?" She hummed as she glanced up to look over you. He chuckled softly as his brow pinched. His chuckle came out more like a rugged scoff. "I know, this just feels weird." He sucked in a breath of stale air. "It was funny the first night you arrived at the mansion.." Storm drew up a memory of that fateful night. "As soon as I and Scott brought you in, they immediately volunteered to help Jean down here with your examination. They were always enamored with your set of abilities. You were one of a kind to them especially, I suppose." Now his hands gripped into the sides of the examination table. He looked down, in pity of you and himself. How could he be so blind? Storm butted in once more as she noticed his demeanor shift. "All I'm saying is, they'd be happy to know how much you worried." He nodded in response, reminiscing when things were good. From your first encounter to now, his heart warmed. "I'd do it for anyone else." He gritted out as he bit back a smile. The truth was he was still in agony about Jean's loss. It felt wrong to love you as he had longed for her after all of this time. But you felt like a whole different story. He didn't have to sit in agony knowing that no matter what his love would always be with another. You always gave him the time and day, hell even down to the minute to just be honest. He needed you at his side no matter what you were to him. Maybe you were more than a friend, maybe he was crazy about you, but you understood him. In a way maybe Jean never had. Ororo knew he needed more time so she complied with the awkwardness in the air. "I'll give you some more time. Rest easy Logan, they'd want that." She insisted before making her way out of the infirmary. He immediately looked down back at you, before looking back at the monitor tracking your heart. He sighed, biting into his lip. He stuttered the only thing that had been keeping him sane since he last felt your eyes open. "Don't fail me now dimples... I need you." He gritted as his teeth were practically ground into his gums. It has become a regular part of his routine now. Once the students were back in their dorms for the night, down to the infirmary he goes. He could never be tired of seeing you at rest. Seeing you okay and not in pain. He just wished he could hear you speak. He hoped that you could hear his pleas for you to wake.

As much as he longed for you he just bided his time. Like the fool he was, like the idiot he felt like when you made him so weak. You made him feel the most human he ever could feel.

That day was supposed to be a normal day. Classes had been more and more brief. After the loss of Jean and you being "put out." But he did not expect to see what he did next. Going into the elevator to head downstairs, to of course see you as always. He was ready to talk about what you missed away and so on. His chest tightened once he saw what was right in front of him. It was you, you were walking? You were awake and on your own two feet. Your midsection was still bandaged but at least you were standing up straight. But then it finally clicked. Wait, you shouldn't even be walking around right now?!

He immediately ran to steady you once your expression went more absent. "Welcome back to the land of the living." He roughly inquired with a small, pleased grin. "I feel like shit, so don't start with me Wolvie." You gritted out with that smile that made him too feel all good on the inside. Quickly, his arms calmly wrapped around you. He longed for your embrace for too long. It wasn't like you were fighting him when he enacted this. You wrapped your arms around him too. He made sure not to squeeze too tight with your bandages and all. A gentleman must stay mindful, he could recall you poking at him as he had a beer bottle half hidden in his jacket.

Your head gently rested in the crook of his neck. That quiet he hated so much before when seeing you in the infirmary was warmer now. He liked the peace and quiet between the two of you when you were there WITH him. After some minutes passed, you met him back face to face. You eyes lingered as you watched the way he swallowed in with composure. You had longed for him to see you. Finally, all the puzzle pieces were clicking, and with your luck all at once. You knew before this would have never happened. It felt wrong and almost hurtful for you to be doing this. But go big or go home I guess. It was you who initiated it, and he gratefully complied. Still keeping you steady, once your lips met his hand immediately went to cup your cheek. In the bliss shared, all of a sudden it felt right. The tender embrace of your lips with his felt good. It was hungry and it was liberating. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as quick gasps for air were taken. "I'm sorry." He uttered out, forehead against yours. "I know." You said with a sanguine look in your eye. "I love you." He uttered again at a rapid pace. "I know." You purred, your eyes looking back into his hazy ones. Things would always be complicated between the both of you. But deep down you had hope. Maybe not now, someday things could just be normal between you and The Wolverine. That's all you wanted and that's all you dreamed of. Yours and his timing by all means was horrible. So it wasn't surprising this delightful moment got interrupted by Scott of all people. You and Logan looked back, hands immediately darting off of one another. Time to address THAT later.

Scott's mouth fell agape as he began to regret coming down here in the first place. He readjusted his glasses with a small scowl. "Well hello to you too, and Logan." He turned his head to give him that same look. "Wanted to check on you but clearly -" He made sure to put a specific emphasis on 'clearly.' "That job has been overtaken by him.. I'll get Ororo." Before either you or Logan could interrupt him, Scott was already pressing buttons up to the main floor. Now that it was just the two of you bubbling laughs were shared. You felt finally okay. You felt like yourself after those months of nothing but remembrance. You and The Wolverine wormed back into conversation as you could finally talk BACK to him. Another thing you wouldn't ever admit was that yes, you did hear him. His gentle words would always be your favorite secret. After that display of affection though, your and Logan's bond never stayed just a little secret after that. Even after all the trial and error, and the more soon to come, you finally had another moment. Another moment that you could look at when you are older and with more grays on your head. Logan Howlett was yours, no matter how much the universe wanted to throw you around a loop. You'd always have him by your side, till the end of time. Nothing would stop you from cherishing this connection. Not even the burning phoenix crackling over the horizon. You and Logan against time baby.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3

[carlosainzgf]

friends with benefits - oscar piastri

warnings: smut with a sprinkle of plot :)

you were living with your best friend, oscar piastri. you were seeing a guy, but didn’t know that oscar had feelings for you.

one day after the guy had left your apartment, one again, he couldn’t take it anymore. he walked irretated into your room and glances at you.

“i swear. if he is sleeping in your bed and touching you, I’ll go insane”

“we just sit and watch cocomelon oscar.” you say sarcastically.

he rolls his eyes in frustration.

“oh yeah. totally… I’m sure.”

he leans against the doorframe watching you from across the room. his arms folding in front of his chest, making his biceps flex slightly under his shirt.

“why are so pressed about me being intimate with someone?” you question.

he huffs in annoyance.

“because I don’t want you to be with some dickhead, that only wants one thing from you”

he says, walking towards your bed and sitting on the edge of it.

“who says i want more from him?”

he looks at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing.

“don’t tell me you just want a ons with him” he replies, trying to read your expression.

“it’s okay to want just sex, Osc.”

he groans, annoyed at your answer.

“is that all you’re after then? you don’t want anything more?” he asks, getting up to stand in front of you

“not from him, no.”

he lets out a frustrated sigh, and paces the room in front of you, before turning back to you once again.

“why him then?” he asks, his voice a bit more firm than before.

“he only wants sex too, he’s nice enough and…good in bed.”

he clenches his jaw in annoyance as you mention how good the other guy is in bed.

“well why don’t you just come to me for that? you know that I would satisfy you properly”

“maybe you could. how am i supposed to know we never had sex. and aren’t we friends?”

“of course we are friends” he replies, still standing in front of you.

he rubs the back of his neck, trying to avoid your eye contact.

“then what? we’re gonna be friends with benefits now?”

he doesn’t respond to your question right away, his hands dropping to his sides.

he takes a few steps closer to you, moving to stand between your legs.

“something like that” he answers quietly.

“won’t it fuck us up? our friendship?” as much as you fancied him, you had to think this through.

he moves his hands to your waist, holding you gently. the contact of his hands on your skin is more intimate than you’re used to from him.

“maybe. but wouldn’t it be worth it?”

“let’s see.” i say and pull him in a kiss.

he melts into the kiss instantaneously, his hands moving around your hips, and pulling you closer to him. he’s always secretly wanted you, and he is not going to waste time now to get you.

he deepens the kiss, his body pressing against yours.

he pushes you back, laying you down against the bed. his body now on top of yours. he kisses you again, his lips moving down your neck slowly. you moaned at the contact.

“im gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna forget that dickhead ever existed.”

his words sounded like they came out of someone elses mouth. it was like the calm, collected and sweet oscar you always knew and liked has been replaced with a confident and hot guy.

he waisted no time and got to undressing you. you were left in your bra and panties. he looked at you like a man starved. he ripped his shirt off his body, revealing his slightly jacked body.

he kissed and sucked the parts of your breast that were not covered by your bra, his hand also wondered lower. stroking and teasing your clit over your underwear.

“oscar” you cried out. “need more…”

“im gonna give it to you, baby. be patient.” he chuckled. his cockiness getting you even wetter.

he kissed his way down to your heat. he couldn’t waist time by taking it off so he just pulled your underwear to the side.

“such a pretty fucking pussy.” he mumbled than dove his head down to kiss you clit. he was torturing you. kissing and pulling at your clit, ever so slightly. leaving you to be a moaning mess.

you tugged at his hair, growing impatient. he got the massage and got to working. he was eating you out like you were a feast and he hadn’t eaten in days. he was licking and showing his tongue at your entrance, then going up to suck and flick his tongue at your clit. his chin and your thighs were covered in his spit and your arousal.

“fuck, osc! im gonna come, fuck, don’t stop!”

and so he didn’t. he kept on what he was doing until you were shaking and practically begging him to stop and pushing him away.

he came up and kissed me, mixing his and your spit with your taste lingering on his tongue.

“ready for me, baby?” he asked.

you couldn’t put the words together. let alone form a sentence, your mind foggy, still recovering from you orgasm, so you just nodded.

he unzipped his pants and took if off, his boxers following. he was big. maybe too big.

he got back on top of you, stroking himself as he plunged to fingers in you. he thrusted his fingers in you a few times, stretching you out. when he thought you were ready, he pulled his fingers out.

you whined at the loss of his fingers until he tapped his dick on your clit once or twice than showing his whole length inside you, bottoming out.

“you’re so tight, baby. im gonna fucking ruin you.”

he gave you a few seconds to adjust but when you dugged your nails at his back he was gone. he started pounding into you without mercy.

the room echoed of you moans and cries, oscar’s groans and with the sound skin slapping.

“s’ big!” you cried out. he twitched inside you. he then leaned down to kiss you, suck at your neck, kiss your collarbones.

"need to cum," you nearly sob, the pleasure and pain making tears form in the corners of your eyes.

"so do it," oscar replies, his hand leaving your breast and immediately finding your clit, rubbing tight circles.

within seconds, you cum with a cry of his name,

your hands immediately fly to grip at his broad shoulders to ground yourself through your orgasm. the sound of you moaning his name and spasming around him sends oscar into his own orgasm, and you fall limp at the feeling of his cum warming you from the inside.

oscar pulls out of you as gently as he can, and you feel of both of your fluids seeping out of you before he gently pushes them back in with two fingers. he gets up and gets a towel from the other room the clean you up. oscar can't help but smile at your closed eyes and blissed-out expression, knowing that he was the one that fucked you into this state.

after tosses the washcloth away and settles into the sheets with you. you roll over on top of his, your head over his chest.

“only i get to fuck you now. understood?”

“loud and clear, osc. very loud and very clear.”

[misspygmypie]

Spring Rolls For Lando

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Max Fewtrell x reader (besties) Words: 1620 Summary: Y/N’s attempts to make spring rolls for Lando to make him feel better and Max saves the day. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Y/N stood in the kitchen, feeling increasingly overwhelmed as the ingredients piled up around her. She had watched countless YouTube videos and read recipe after recipe but nothing had prepared her for the chaos unfolding before her eyes. The rice paper wrappers kept tearing, the vegetables were unevenly chopped and the dipping sauce didn’t taste anything like it was supposed to.

Max Fewtrell was leaning against the counter, watching his and Lando's best friend, trying his best to hide his amusement. "You sure you don’t want to just order these? I can make the call in two seconds."

"No, Max," Y/N replied, her voice wavering as she struggled to keep her composure. "Lando loves these and after the weekend he had I really want to do something special for him. He’s always so supportive of me and I want to be there for him too."

Max noticed the slight tremor in her voice and softened his tone. "I get it, Y/N. But… you look like you’re about to have a meltdown. Are you sure this is worth it?"

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the pressure building in her chest. "I just… I just want it to be perfect. He deserves something nice after this race I thought this would be easy, but…" Her voice cracked and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Max’s grin faded as he realized how upset she was. He moved closer, gently taking the knife out of her hand before she could accidentally cut herself. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be perfect."

Y/N shook her head, her frustration spilling over as tears welled up in her eyes. "But everything is going wrong, Max! The wrappers keep tearing, the sauce tastes awful and I’ve made such a mess. I just wanted to do something nice for him and I’m screwing it all up!"

Max quickly wrapped her in a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing great, Y/N. You’re trying and that’s what counts. Lando is going to appreciate this no matter what."

Y/N buried her face in his shoulder, trying to calm down. "But what if he hates it? What if it just makes him feel worse?"

"There’s no way he’s going to hate it. He cares about you and he’s going to see how much effort you put into this. Trust me, it’s going to cheer him up."

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I just don’t want to let him down."

"You won’t," Max assured her. "Besides, if the spring rolls don’t turn out, we’ll just distract him with something else. Like ordering pizza. That always works."

Y/N managed a small laugh, feeling a bit of the tension release. "Thanks, Max. I’m just… I’m so bad at this and I wanted it to be perfect."

Max smiled and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "Perfection is overrated. And honestly, it’s pretty amazing that you’re doing this at all, considering how much you hate cooking."

Y/N sniffled again, finally allowing herself to smile. "Yeah, I guess I don’t have the best track record in the kitchen, do I?"

"Not exactly," Max teased, "but that’s what makes this so special. You’re doing something outside your comfort zone because you care. And that’s what’s going to mean the most to Lando."

After calming Y/N down Max glanced at the mess on the counter and rolled up his sleeves. "Alright, let’s do this together. We’ll make these spring rolls the best they can be."

"You’re going to help? I thought you were just here to laugh at my misery,” Y/N looked at him, surprised.

"Laughing was fun but seeing you this upset isn’t. Let’s turn this around."

With Max’s help, the kitchen felt a lot less chaotic. He took over the trickier parts, like handling the delicate rice paper wrappers, while Y/N focused on chopping the vegetables, much more evenly this time under Max’s watchful eye. They worked together, laughing as they went and slowly but surely, the spring rolls began to take shape.

"This isn’t so bad when you’ve got someone to help," Y/N admitted as she watched Max expertly roll up another spring roll. "I might actually survive this."

Max grinned. "Teamwork makes the dream work, right? Plus, I’ve made these a few times before, so I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Of course you have," Y/N said with a smile, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "Is there anything you haven’t done?"

"Cooking is all about confidence," Max replied, handing her a finished spring roll to place on the plate. "And a little bit of improvisation."

Soon, they had a plate full of neatly rolled and fried spring rolls that looked almost professional. Y/N couldn’t believe it. "We actually did it," she said, a mix of relief and disbelief in her voice. "These look so much better than the ones I tried to make on my own."

Max gave her a playful nudge. "See? Told you it would be fine. And look, no tears and no fires. I’d say that’s a win."

"Thanks, Max. I couldn’t have done this without you."

"Anytime," Max said with a grin. "Now, let’s get this place cleaned up before Lando gets home and thinks we fought a war in here."

They quickly tidied up the kitchen, hiding the evidence of Y/N’s earlier disasters. Just as they finished they heard the front door open. Lando was home.

Y/N exchanged a quick, nervous glance with Max who gave her a reassuring nod. She took a deep breath as Lando walked into the kitchen, looking tired but happy to be home.

The moment Lando saw the plate of spring rolls on the table, his eyes widened in surprise. "You made spring rolls?" he asked, almost shocked. "They look… amazing!"

Y/N blushed, feeling a mix of pride and relief. "Yeah… well, Max helped a lot."

Lando turned to Max, raising an eyebrow. "You helped?"

Max grinned and shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? I’m a man of many talents."

Lando shook his head in disbelief, a smile spreading across his face. "I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to pull this off. Not after last time…"

Y/N laughed, feeling the tension finally lift. "Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a while there but Max saved the day."

Lando walked over to the table, picking up one of the spring rolls and examining it with curiosity. "These look perfect. I can’t believe you guys actually did it."

Max leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. "I told you, teamwork makes the dream work."

Lando took a bite of the spring roll, his eyes widening in surprise and delight. "These are really good!" He turned to Y/N, his expression softening. "Thank you, Y/N. This really means a lot."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "You’ve had a rough race and I know how much you love these."

Lando reached out and pulled her into a hug. "You’re the best, you know that? And Max," he added, glancing over her shoulder at their friend, "you’re alright too."

Max chuckled, waving off the compliment. "I try."

As they sat down at the table Lando couldn’t stop smiling. The spring rolls were more than just food, they were a reminder of how much Y/N cared about him. He picked up another one, savoring the taste, and looked over at her with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.

"You know," Lando said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve been feeling pretty low after this weekend and this… this is exactly what I needed."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. "I'm just glad you like them, I was worried they'd turn out horrible."

"They’re perfect," Lando reassured her grabbing her hand, his gaze never leaving hers.

Max, who had been watching the exchange with a smirk, finally chimed in. "You know, Lando, this whole thing was Y/N’s idea from the start. She was determined to make these for you, no matter what. I was just here to stop the kitchen from burning down. She even got a bit emotional when things weren’t going right."

Y/N shot Max a playful glare but Lando’s expression softened even more. "You really did all this… for me?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit shy under his intense gaze. "Of course, I did. You mean a lot to me, Lando. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing after the weekend you had."

Lando let go of her hand, but only so he could pull her into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything. You always know how to make me feel better, even when I don’t deserve it."

Y/N hugged him back, resting her head on his shoulder. "You always deserve it, Lando."

Max watched them with a grin, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I’d say my work here is done. You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?"

Lando laughed, finally releasing Y/N but keeping one arm around her shoulders. "You’re just jealous, Max."

Max pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah, I’m just happy I got a free meal out of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help laughing along with them. Lando kept sneaking glances at Y/N, his heart full of appreciation for her. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have someone who cared about him so deeply, someone who would go through so much effort just to see him smile.

________

AN: Something not Noah/Lando related for once lol I just had to write a little comfort piece, he looked so sad in the cool down room 😥

Taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Alexia comes to ballet class

For some reason, Alexia feels nervous.

She's played some big matches. She's won some big trophies. She's scored some big goals.

But none of those moments ever made her as nervous as she feels now.

Your ballet school had sent home a leaflet just last week about having a parent-child day where parents could join in on practice with their kids.

Alexia had signed herself up without thinking before the realisation had sunk in about what she had done.

She hadn't danced in years, not properly anyway and left it all behind to pursue football. She wasn't quite sure she still remembered how to do that style of dance, let alone your style of ballet.

But, still, she had signed up and the awestruck look on your face when she told you was worth it all.

"Alright mummies and daddies," The too-happy voice of your teacher exclaims," We're so excited to have you here with us today. Why don't you go and grab your little one and find a spot at one of the barres?"

The whole class is sitting cross legged on the floor and Alexia can pick you out easily with your favourite leotard and the little braid Olga had given you this morning.

Alexia smiles at you, gently taking your hand as you pull her over to the spot at the very end of the mirror, just like your preferred space at your barre back home.

"Alright boys and girls! Now, first position!"

Alexia knows that one. She's pretty sure she's one of the only parents that actually does because she shifts into position while others look around in confusion.

"And now, plié."

It's fairly simple stuff but Alexia's not surprised. You're still little but you're doing exceptionally well. She catches sight of your determined little face as you bob up and down.

This is one of the better ballet schools for younger kids. Back when you first started ballet, Alexia didn't really care where you went so Eli had organised it.

Alexia feels glad that her Mama spent so much time researching because now that she's started visiting and chatting to the other parents, she knows that some ballet 'schools' are barely schools for young children, not really focused on teaching them actual ballet like this one is.

Throughout this whole exercise, you remain composed and calm the entire time. You easily shift in and out of the positions you need to be in and your teacher has nothing but compliments for you whenever she comes past.

You smile brightens each time and Alexia has to stop herself from leaning down to give you kisses all over your face.

"Alright boys and girls! Water break!"

Your focused face disappears from your features as soon as the water break is called and you whirl around to look at Alexia.

"I..." You seem a bit nervous, shuffling your feet. "Are you having fun, Mami?"

Alexia crouches down in front of you, gently pushing away some flyaways from your face. "I'm having so much fun, bambi."

"Really? I know it's not football but-"

"I don't need football to have a fun time with you," Alexia assures you, a soft kiss being pressed against your forehead," Do you know what we're doing after this?"

You nod. "Floorwork," You say seriously," Floorwork and then cool down and then home time." You chew on your bottom lip for a moment before you shyly ask," Would you like to be my floorwork partner, Mami?"

Alexia smiles. "I'd love to."

Floorwork sounds more intimidating than it is. All it really boils down to is the class going in pairs one corner to the other doing things like skipping to the beat of the music.

Alexia supposes it's a bit like conditioning in a way and holds your hand nice and tight as you both skip from one end of the room to the other.

Nearer the end, the teacher switches to turns and Alexia's a little glad that she's not the only parent that makes a bit of a fool of themselves.

To her credit, she, at least, manages to stay on her feet which can't be said for one dad who trips over his own laces and nearly smashes his face into the floor.

"Well done today, boys and girls!" The teacher says as everyone packs up," And well done to mummies and daddies too! I'll see you all next week!"

Alexia keeps a grip on your hand, swinging your arms as she heads out to the car, packing it up with both of your bags and buckling you into your car seat.

"I had a lot of fun today, bambi," She tells you as she heads down the familiar road towards the house," It was very interesting to see what your classes are like."

"You did very well, Mami," You say earnestly, nodding your head," I wish parents could always been in my classes. It's more fun when there's grown ups."

Alexia laughs. "If there were always grown ups then you'd never get anything done! The mummies and daddies will keep falling over and the whole class will just be everyone laughing at us."

You shake your head. "I wouldn't laugh at your, Mami. Promise."

Alexia smiles at you in the rear view mirror.

"I'm glad, bambi."

There's silence for a moment and then," Do you want to practice at my barre at home? For when parents can come back to class?"

"That sounds perfect."

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.

After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.

‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.

“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.

“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.

“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.

“He was not,” Eddie confirms.

“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.

“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.

Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”

Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”

“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.

“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”

There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.

“You two have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”

There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.

“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”

“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”

“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”

“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.

“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.

“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”

Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”

The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.

“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.

“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”

“Eddie…”

“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”

Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.

“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.

“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.

“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.

“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.

“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.

“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”

Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”

“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.

“Think so?” Eddie asks.

“Mm.”

“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”

Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.

Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.

-

It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.

It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.

In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.

“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.

“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.

“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.

It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.

Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.

“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.

“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”

In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.

“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “Eddie…”

“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.

“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”

“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.

It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.

“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”

“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”

“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.

“Steve–”

“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”

“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.

“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.

Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.

It hurts, but it’s fair.

“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.

Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.

“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”

“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.

“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”

That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”

“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”

“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”

It’s better than an outright ‘no.’

“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”

(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)

Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”

Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.

“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.

He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.

But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.

If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.

Part 5

-

Tag List (drop me a line if you want on or off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e

I did my best to catch everyone, but there were a few people Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Sorry if I missed you!

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do it With a Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

NOW POSTED

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Excerpt here:

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be this gorgeous, it’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.” 

He dusts the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.” 

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?” 

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.” 

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.” 

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to class its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will. 

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?” 

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?” 

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tilted floors and fall into the depths of hell. 

“She asked you out?” 

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!” 

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per say. But a sweet girl like Chrissy, one that bore pretty blonde curls, a sweet smile and a sweet disposition, this is like your worst nightmare come true. 

Thanks to the notion of living in a small town, you could recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out. 

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing. 

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, watching in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.” 

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?”

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.” 

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this isn’t a new habit of his. 

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?” 

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you tried to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing. 

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what is probably another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed. 

You smoked more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself. 

-

Final word count is about 24k so I think I'll post on the 15 to give my editor a fighting chance. If you want to be tagged let me know <3

[deanwinchestergf]

and why would an angel rescue me from hell? good things do happen dean. not in my experience. i'm not here to perch on your shoulder. i was getting too close to the humans in my charge. you. to everything there is a season. you made an exception for me. you're different. for what's worth, i would give anything not to have you do this. i learned my lesson while i was away, dean. i serve heaven, i don't serve men and i certainly don't serve you. but you guys aren't supposed to be there, you're not in this story. yeah, well, we're making it up as we go. i'm hunted, i rebelled and i did it all, all of it, for you. so what i'm thelma and you're louise and we're just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together? i need your help because you're the only one who'll help me. that's a pretty nice timing, cas. we had an appointment. what happened to you cas? you used to be human, or at least like one. but cas, you'll call right? if you get into real trouble? this is cas, guys. he has gone to the mat cut and bleeding for us so many freaking times, don't we owe him the benefit of the doubt at least? it sounds so simple when you say it like that, where were you when i needed to hear it? i was there, where were you? i'm doing this for you, dean. i'm doing this because of you. but we were family once, i would've died for you, i almost did a few times. i've lost lisa, i've lost ben and now i've lost sam. don't make me lose you too. cas, you child, why didn't you listen to me. you used to fight together, bestest of friends, actually. if you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time. the very touch of you corrupts. when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost. i'd rather have you, cursed or not. well, i'll go with you. i prayed to you cas, every night. cas, we're getting out of here, we're going home. i mean you kept saying you didn't think it would work, did you not trust me? cas, it's me. we need you, i need you. i won't hurt dean. cause you didn't trust me? you didn't trust me. please, man, i need you here. nobody wants him here more than i do. you gave us an order, castiel, and we gave you our trust. don't lose it over one man. you really believe we three will be enough? we always have been. his true weakness is revealed. you draped yourself with the flag of heaven but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. i'm glad you're here, man. how are you, dean? and then you'll kill the angel, castiel. now that one, that i suspect would hurt something awful. and when you turn, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. everyone except me. i'm not gonna send lucifer into battle inside cas, what if he doesn't make it? it's not an it, sam. it's cas. but you're always there, you know? i could go with you. you mean too much to me, to everything. i'm gonna cure you of your human weakness, same way i cured my own. it's a gift, you keep those. you mean we? yes, dumbass, we. we lost everything and now you're gonna bring him back. we got cas back, that's a pretty damn big win. just don't get dead again. it's good to hear your voice. so this is goodbye? but i swear if he did something to her, if she's- then you're dead to me. either get on board or walk away. i don't know what's god and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. dean, you asked what about all of this is real. we are. you used trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt, now you can barely look at me. i think it's time for me to move on. you didn't deserve that. since when do we get what we deserve? maybe if you didn't just up and leave us. i left but you didn't stop me. i should've stopped you. you're my best friend but i just let you go. and i forgive you, of course i forgive you. i'm sorry it took me so long, i'm sorry it took me til now to say it. you did it cas. okay, cas, i need to say something. you don't have to say it, i heard your prayer. well, here's to being right. you know what every other version of you did after gripping him tight and raising him from perdition? they did what they were told, but not you.

[wokelander]

L’AMOUR LOOKS SOMETHING LIKE YOU !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. dad-daughter incest, dad/daddy kink, groping, emotional incest i hope, dub-con

note. comm for @slovakbabe sorry this took so fucking long omg. I hope this is worth the wait 😭 writers block is hell so if anything is clunky.. omg. I changed the storyline like 7 times and landed on this so I hope it’s good!!! edited but ignore any mistakes or I’ll kms.. not fond of this so um 😓

Tonight is a big night.

Tonight you’re going to break a month-long dry spell.

Tonight you’re going to have a three-way, a four-way, a five-way and get fucked every which way.

Tonight you will not let dad’s stupid face weigh you down. Every time you look at him you feel guilty. Like you’re obligated to take on the task of towel-drying dishes while he washes them just like mom did, like you’re supposed to make his eggs how he likes them, like you’re supposed to massage his back and feet after work, suck his dick—

You book a table at a rooftop bar. You’re looking for guys with wallets fatter than their dicks, you’re looking to drain someone’s balls and their life savings, you are looking for someone a little older.

Older, like, old-as-your-dad older. You don’t have any problems with your dad, no issues or qualms, he takes care of you so well, and that’s exactly why you need someone in his age range.

You joined a hiking club in hopes of finding one, you were reading obituaries to find widowers, you started getting friendly with ugly men, you know how desperate they are—But it had to come to an end, you can’t price yourself that low.

Dad has always told you what you’re worth, and you’re deserving of someone who treats you right. No more splitting the bill, you don’t want to carry any shopping bags, and no fucking way are you paying for your own drinks tonight.

“Where are you going, young lady?” Leon hasn’t seen you all day, you grace him with your (always welcomed) presence at 9PM on the dot.

“Uh, out?” You place a hand on your hip, giving him a pointed look.

Huh. Okay. He has to go about this carefully; you’re like a powder keg. Maybe you told him about this but he wasn’t listening. Leon is only ever half-listening.

“What is that?” He lowers his reading glasses. “A headband?”

“It’s a miniskirt, dad?” You supply, raising your brow - you’re challenging him, that means, but Leon isn’t up for it.

“Yeah, no, I can see that.” He can see quite a few things a dad shouldn’t really ever be able to see on his daughter. “You got any, uh, regular skirts?”

“What counts as a regular skirt?” You take a step forward, the skirt shifts upwards, your everything is flashing everyone everywhere.

Okay, okay.

He can stand up for himself—Giving in the only option, he decides a mere second later.

“Listen, pumpkin, I’m not up for all that smart talk today.” Leon holds his hands up in surrender. You’re like your mom, deliberate and ballsy and everything that he isn’t. You could argue with your echo, Leon not so much. He lets you win when you’re right and when you’re wrong.

“Then stop, like, policing me, dad, I’m not a baby.” You’re his baby though, and that’s what really matters. It’s hard for Leon to see you like this. Since when did dolls turn into dildos? Barbie pink turned into what? Like, pussy pink? God, he doesn’t know—You’re just so big now and you’re getting away from him, out of reach.

One half of Leon wants to say ‘since when did you start shadowing a hooker’ and ‘I sent you to college, not the strip club’ but instead, he very patiently says, “I’m not trying to police you, baby, okay?”

All because he knows you haven’t been doing so hot lately—Also that’s just not a nice thing to say to a girl, and if Leon does say so himself he’s a pretty nice guy, he aims to be one at least. “You win, alright, sweetheart? It’s none of my business what you do, you go out and have a good time.”

“Thanks, daddy.” You beam and reward him with a kiss on the cheek. It’s the sort of kiss that reminds him to stay in his lane if he wants anymore.

You’re spoiled, but he’s made his bed so he’ll die in it.

He sees you out, trying his best to keep his eyes off your ass which as a father should be a very easy task, but it’s all in his fucking face.

“When are you coming home?” Leon asks, sounding more like an insecure housewife than he is a dad.

“Later, dad, don’t forget your meds,” you tell him simply, stepping over the threshold and into the dark, click-clacking in your gogo boots after blowing him a kiss.

“Later, sweetheart…” He says into the breeze.

It’s not fair. Whatever’s wrong with him is not fair. It might be that your mother, his wife, is faint in his head, nothing more than a poorly projected film.

And you’re right there.

So much older, tougher, prettier—You have an ass now, and god it’s a good ass. That’s not a bad thing to say about your daughter. Leon is appreciating what he gave you. You have a nice ass - it’s factual. Not wrong. Not sick. Not twisted or fucked up. Or any other thing, it’s just something he noticed. A change he picked up on as any good dad would, and Leon is a very good dad.

He attended every ballet rehearsal, he spent his days packing your lunch and learning how to style hair and he stepped away from the fucking President to be your father. He is a good dad, a great dad goddamnit.

Ass or no ass, Leon would love you no matter what—See, he’s a good fucking dad. He is.

God, if he really was a good dad he wouldn’t be spending his time with his back pressed to the front door, head bowed as he thinks about your ass.

You're more than your ass, you are, Leon’s proud of you—You’re the only thing he’s got to be proud of, he never went to college, but you do. And Leon’s never gotten through a novel, but you have. Truly, despite it all, you’re a good kid and you don’t deserve any of it - Leon’s moping ever since your mother passed.

He’s supposed to hold it together, but he's so tender he falls right off the bone, and you’re tough.

Didn’t cry when it happened, didn’t cry at her wake, you didn’t even cry when the two of you came home to silence. No dinner on the table, no sitcom playing on the TV, no black pumps kicked off by the door. You cried when you went to bed that night, and Leon heard it through the walls, and he is such a fucking pussy. He didn’t get up to hold you, he just sat there and listened and thought ‘I wish I could help.’

He brushes his teeth while mulling this all over - the possibility that he might be attracted to you. His wife. Those cheetah print panties on the floor, an inch away from the laundry basket.

(It wouldn’t be the first pair he's taken. Ever since your mother died her underwear drawer has become yours unbeknownst to you.)

Leon goes to bed early and he thinks about you—Not your ass this time, well, maybe just a little, that only takes up a fraction of his thoughts—More than a fraction ‘cause it’s a lot bigger than a fraction, and he wouldn’t insult you by insinuating your ass is only worth a fraction of his time, it’s worth a lot more than that—

He thinks about how you used to have gaps in your smile, and the dollhouse that’s gathering dust in the cellar, and your less-than-impressed face when he says anything ever. God, Leon could step on the wrong floorboard and you’d blow up at him, and he likes that part of you.

You’re so much like your mother and thank god you are, if you got anymore of Leon, he thinks he’d be a little less fond of you. When he looks in the mirror he only seems to like whatever he passed onto you. Whether it be your nose or your smile or something as little as a mole - Leon finds himself liking it more.

By the time you get home, Leon is sound asleep, your ass finds its home in your dreams among other things. The distant hum of an engine has him stirring, muscles relaxed but mind always alert, as if on a hair-trigger. Leon’s breath slows until it’s near silence, listening out for the slightest noise, anticipating a threat that hasn’t yet materialised.

The thump of your heels kicked off near the stairs for him to trip over, your heavy footsteps, your nails skittering over the wooden bannister as you try to get a hold on this inanimate and completely still object. He thinks you stumble halfway up the stairs, but you make it there safely, your bed creaks and Leon closes his eyes.

“Afternoon,” Leon greets when you press into him from behind, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his shoulder softly. It’s intimate, but he can’t really call it that.

“Please, it’s barely twelve, dad.” You kiss his shoulder again, it means nothing, but his heart feels light. “Did you take your meds?”

“Stop calling them that.” He shakes you off gently, gentle being the only manner he can handle you in. “Makes me sound insane.”

“Okay, well,” you start with patience that is far too mechanical to be human, “they’re important, and I don’t really want to pay for any hospital bills, daddy, we’ve had enough of those.”

Jesus. Daddy. Don’t call him that. That’s not fair.

When he’s not facing you, Leon’s resolve takes a little longer to crumble, it sort of cracks and wobbles and threatens its own stability, then he makes eye contact and it all comes crashing down.

He stays with his back to you, but you float around the dining table and pull out a chair. Bare-faced and older. Pretty, he finds you pretty. You’re not so cute anymore, not a harmless little girl or a sweaty-palmed teenager, you’re pretty the same way his wife was.

“I’ll take them, give me a minute.” He gives you a once over. “You look, uh, good.”

“What?”

“Like, for—You got home later, you don’t look tired.” Your complexion doesn’t look so bad either, no bloating, no puffy under eyes.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t drink that much.” You smile down at the table absentmindedly, like you’re thinking about something, about someone—Leon doesn’t want to know.

He wants to die.

He gets up to take his medication. Anything to get him away from this conversation that wasn’t really happening, it wasn’t going anywhere, but he’s smart enough to pick up on implications—He did not like those implications, he doesn’t like where his thoughts are taking him.

“Hey, dad, by the way, are you free today?” You call from the kitchen over the whizzing of the blender.

“Yeah.” It’s not loud enough to be heard over the blender, he does that on purpose because he’s feeling especially petty.

“What?”

“Yes! I said yes, turn that thing off when I’m talking!”

“God, okay, sorry, I was just asking.” You’re pouting when he returns - medicated and very pissed off, but the pout softens him right up. He’d like to kiss it away, but Leon settles for patting your head.

“Why, you need to go somewhere?” Leon cups your face, it feels different from all the other times. This isn’t being fond—It’s something worse, something so sinister it makes his balls shrivel.

“Mhm, I wanna go shopping.” You nod, batting your lashes at him, it’s something he would’ve taken as cute before, but now that’s—That’s hot.

He drops his hands before they drift downwards, grab at something he's not supposed to grab. Leon is not normal, nothing about this is right, but he is who he is.

“Get ready then,” Leon says, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your face, “I’ll be waiting here, okay?”

“‘Kay!”

Dad is looking a little pale these days. He hasn’t looked so worn out since mom died - that shirt does good things to his biceps though. You hope he catches some eligible widow’s eye, it’s what he deserves.

You feel a little guilty for forcing him to drive you around, to carry your shopping bags, but that’s what dads are for, and it’s not like he’s ever minded. Dad literally lives and breathes to spoil you.

“You can go get food or something, daddy, but can you give me your card?” You grasp at his arm, and there’s a faraway look in his eyes.

You wait for him to say yes like usual, but he doesn’t.

He shrugs and says, “I’ll come with you, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You should’ve just taken his card and got an Uber. “I need to buy, like, girl stuff dad.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I bought you your training bras, didn’t I?” Dad’s not backing down for once, and it’s the one time you desperately need him to back down.

“Yeah… Doesn't mean you need to come with me.” You don’t want him knowing what panties you buy, or what cup size you are - none of that concerns him.

“What, you just used me for a ride?” Leon’s good at making that face, the dejected face, the face the dogs at the shelter make when they know they’re going to be put down and you walk right past them to a cuter, fluffier pup.

“Pretty much.” You shrug, and he pinches your cheek softly. That’s as stern as he gets with you.

“It’s only a big deal if you make it one sweetheart,” he says, and then Leon does something he never does—Not in public at least. He takes your hand in his like he does when the two of you cross a street - it’s an instinct for him and embarrassing for you.

“Dad?” You say quietly, but he looks on ahead like this is normal between the two of you. Once upon a time it was, but not now. Not when you’re grown, you have a job, you don’t need your daddy to hold your hand. It does feel nice though, his hand is slightly bigger and it’s soft considering all those years of hard work. You give it a squeeze and the corners of his lips twitch.

What is up with him?

“Forty dollars for a pack of seven, what a joke.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth after that long, silent and slightly tortuous walk. “We could always go somewhere else, sweetheart.”

(Victoria’s Secret happens to be on the top floor and farthest from the entrance dad decided to park in. Did he want to hold your hand for longer?)

A girl lingers on that same pack of seven, her eyes are on your dad and she flushes a nice shade of pink when he looks her way as most girls are prone to doing. You wonder if you could find a bra in that colour.

While Leon frets over prices, you find a nice selection of bras and panties and head off into the dressing rooms. You’ve always hated the lighting in the fitting rooms, it makes everything seem so much darker, and you can never pick up on the undertones. Like, you’re looking for baby pink not rose gold or mauve.

“Your girlfriend went through here, sir.” You pay no mind to the voice of an employee.

Shoes scuff against the ground outside, the squeak of leather as someone takes a seat outside the fitting rooms. “Thanks,” says a man who sounds exactly like your father. It is your dad. That’s your fucking dad, and he just let someone call you his girlfriend without even correcting them.

What is going on? The handholding and now this?

Maybe he didn’t hear her, Leon never listens to you, so why would he listen to some random girl? You still feel weird. Like you’re coated in a layer of something sticky.

You hold your breath when you hear footsteps, and then the curtain is pulled open. Why do fitting rooms have curtains? What is so wrong with having a sturdy wooden door?

“Dad!” You gasp and cover your chest when he steps inside, backing you into the mirror when he closes the curtain behind you.

“Relax.”

“What? Dad—Get out, what are you doing? Do you want me to scream? I will scream, dad, I’m not joking.” The air is too thick to breathe in and your anger is spreading like a wildfire.

“I picked you some out,” Dad says so casually, like his eyes are not zeroed in on your tits. He holds up a selection of frilly bras and scanty panties and what is—Is this fucking real?

You’ve got to be having an awful, awful nightmare. Then he has the gall to touch you, and it’s really like dousing a hornets nest in gasoline—Oh, that’s real. This is real. He just touched you and you felt it.

“Sweetheart, don’t be angry.” Leon cups your face, his brows are pinched together in worry, the lines in his forehead are getting worse. Dad’s getting older by the second.

“They’re not… They're not even my size.” You’re paralysed by the absurdity of it all, you’re so upset you went numb, anger cauterised by that stupid fucking face of his. God, you’re whipped for dad the same way he is for you. He could give you a look and you’d just melt. You want to take care of him, you want to be there for him now that mom isn’t. Shit. What the fuck?

“Yeah, well, if you let me have a little feel, I bet I could guess.” Leon smiles his perfect white smile like there is nothing strange afoot—Like this is an everyday activity. A father-daughter pastime the two of you partake in often.

“Dad, what..?” Time itself seems to forget how to move as you stand there staring at him - with your tits out by the way.

“I… Sweetheart, don’t be mad at me.” Dad presses his forehead to yours, and his eyes are so gentle you find yourself trembling. How could you ever be mad at someone for giving you the world?

“I’m… Dad, I’m confused, I don’t understand where—You’re scaring me daddy.” And you know you sound like a little girl ‘cause his face changes and he takes you into his arms like you’re still the tiny pink bundle the midwife dropped on his chest so many years ago.

“Oh, baby,” Leon sighs into your neck, “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah…” You tremble in his grasp, this is the smallest you’ve ever felt in your life. “…Dad?”

“Yeah, pumpkin?” His hands smooth up and down your back, it doesn’t feel like it usually does.

“It was you wasn’t it?” Bras don’t go missing that fucking easy—Socks, sure, but underwear? Jesus Christ, you thought there was a pervert in your walls—There's a pervert in your house, and it’s you father.

“What… What was?” Leon’s face says one thing, but his eyes carry a muted suggestion. The verdict is? Guilty as fucking—Guilty as a a dude who’s committed vehicular manslaughter.

“My stuff, I thought—I seriously thought I was going crazy, or the washing machine was eating everything, but it was you, wasn’t it?” You ask him quietly, voice void of the anger you initially held. God, you feel bad for him.

“…Yeah, pumpkin.” Is all Dad says. “I’m sorry… I think we need to have—To have a family meeting.”

“Dad that’s… It’s just the two of us? That’s just a conversation.” You can’t help but laugh, Jesus, what is going on right now?

“Yeah—I just, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You can’t be mad at him, no matter how you behave, the tantrums you throw—You can’t be mad at him. You know dad could leave you behind in your annoyance, but he stays behind to placate you, and he always does that. Fuck. Holy fuck. Are you seriously forgiving a fucking panty thieving pervert ‘cause he’s your sad old dad?

“Yeah?” Dad asks, breathless and he’s looking at you so reverently—Can you look at someone like that? If you can, that’s how dad’s looking at you. Like you’re something to behold. Something pretty and worth it and he’s made you feel like this since you were little.

“Yeah.” You give a curt nod, and when he pulls back, Leon’s hands come to squeeze your hips, gliding up your sides to toy with the lace hem of a bra you’ve been wearing a beat too long—It’s all sweaty, you’ll have to buy it. Slowly, but surely, he takes your tits into his hands. “Happy?”

You can’t help but be amused by his pleased hum, and fuck—His dick is pressing into you, you didn’t need to know that your dad is hung like a fucking witch.

“You should buy this one, fits well.” Dad nods appreciatively, like he’s a bra expert and not a pervert.

“Oh, yeah?” You huff out a laugh, you can never help yourself around him. You’re just as weak as he is when it comes down to it.

You stop by the bathrooms after a trip to the food court where you treat dad to Shake Shack courtesy of his card, he waits for you outside, standing taller and brighter and happier. Was that all it took? God. This is weird. You wonder if by the time the two of you get home, Leon’s going to pretend this never happened and the two of you will have to live in knowing silence.

“Did you see him? The guy in Victoria’s Secret? The one near me?” You hear two girls conversing while you’re in the stall, staring down at the wet patch on your panties. “He was, like, fucking cute.”

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?”

“So? She could’ve been his daughter, he was, like, old, but hot old.”

“They were way too close for that to be his daughter.”

You step out of the stall wondering if you’re going to be his girlfriend or his daughter, you weigh up the options as you wash your hands, you’re still thinking about it as you hold the door open for the two girls.

Your hands are still wet, but Leon doesn’t seem to mind as he takes them in his. Their eyes are on you, and this little, jealous nagging part of you says go for it. Do it. So you stand on your tip-toes and kiss him. It’s barely a kiss by your standards, more of a peck than anything, but dad is fucking lovestruck. “I’m ready to go now, dad.”