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azrielbrainrot · 10 months ago

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Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should be seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him as the other went to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #my writing

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lovverletters · 1 year ago

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Been waiting for this lol

*Ahem* I introduced Yan husband! Finally, after years of waiting and stalking and murdering (if that's cool), he finally has you! He worships you every day and reminds you how lucky he is, and he tells everyone how he's so lucky and how you're perfect!

Yandere! Husband

A/N : Thanks for requesting! Hope you like it, 🌻 anon!

T/W : soft yandere, stalking, implied murder, non consentual photographing, stealing items, this is late asf

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Honey, do you remember how we met?"

[Name] asked their husband of 6 years as they flip through their old journal, reliving their countless embarrassing, bitter and sweet memories of their youth.

They had been sifting through the storage closet earlier when they stumbled upon a box containing their old belongings dating back from when they were still studying in high school until they got married to their husband, Derek.

"Of course I do, it's the day I met the love of my life" He says with a smile on his face.

"Psh.. you're so cheesy Derry" [Name] swatted their husband's shoulder playfully, flustered at his words.

"What? I'm being honest. Every moment spent with you is unforgettable" A dark glint was present in his eyes as he uttered his reply.

How could he ever forget the day he met his beloved [Name]?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Derek had been in his senior year of high school by the time he met [Name].

They had only recently moved to his hometown and enroll to the high school. He could still recall their timid expression as they asked him for directions, at that moment Derek brushed off the encounter as a one time thing.

He was graduating and they were a junior, he'll probably won't see them again.

Until Derek started to bump into [Name] more frequently albeit it being only a coincidence. [Name] would notice his presence and greeted him with a small wave everytime they pass by each other in the hallway or waiting in line during lunch.

Eventually, he finally spoke to them one day. It felt odd for him to be around them yet never uttering a single word.

It was the best decision he ever made.

"Uhㅡhey" Derek cursed himself inwardly for choking on his words.

[Name]'s eyes widened, spooked to hear him talk to them. They mustered up a crooked smile after recollecting themself to reply to him.

"Derek, hi. Sorry, I was on my phone that I didn't notice you behind me"

From then, something shifted in him. Their conversation faded into a white noise in his ears as his thoughts became fixated in [Name]'s voice.

He had heard them speak before but it felt different when they're talking to him. Their voice engraving itself into his brain like an earworm.

It doesn't stop there, their interaction expanded as their friendship blooms. [Name] would seek him out on subjects they were struggling on despite having other student who would eagerly help themㅡ his heart swells with pride knowing that it's him whom they're relying on.

Derek would also began inviting them to his football practice as an excuse to invite them for an ice cream laterㅡ and to also flex his athleticism in hopes of receiving praises from them.

He's not stupid, he knows that he likes themㅡ loves them. Maybe he had been a fool for underestimating his feelings for them.

It had been an unfortunate timing that he had never been able to confess to [Name] as his graduation passes and he was wrapped up with preparing for his higher education.

Those times away and distance from [Name] were hellish. Derek felt his sanity wanning with each day passes and his thoughts were constantly thinking of [Name].

What are they doing, Where they're at, Who they're withㅡ They don't have a partner don't they? They didn't replace me did they?? I'll kill that bastard who took my placㅡ

He finally cracked after stalking through their social media page and seeing the other student having grown close to them within months of his absence.

Derek decided that he's had enough sitting around in the sidelines with an aching heart. He'll make his move and insured that [Name] will be his.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"I then drove back to back from my university to yours for years until I finally had enough and decided to ask you to move in with me" He traced the picture they took on their first day moving into his house.

[Name] snorted and pinched their husband's cheek, laughing as they teased him.

"Silly, you, I can't believe you rent out an apartment just because you can't be away from me anymore"

Derek huffed and flipped to the next page, tracing [Name]'s photo as he always does everytime he sees it.

"I love you too much, it hurt's to not be around your presence. I feel like I was going to die with each hour passes without you"

"Mmh sure, how come you never died after leaving me everytime you have to go back?" [Name] attempt at poking at their husband again.

Only to receive an unexpected answer.

"I never left" Derek uttered. No elaboration whatsoever.

Silence follows after as the cogs in [Name]'s brain turn to process what their sweet stupid dork husband just said.

Derek closed the journal shut and stood up, planting a kiss on their temple.

"I'm going to prepare dinner now. You better come and eat when I call you before continuing your clean up! No buts and ifs, okay love?" He gave them another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.

Come to think of it, Derek had re-entered their life at a time where their newfound friend tragically passed in a mysterious incident. [Name] had been devastated and clung to Derek for comfort before it eventually delved into them being in a relationship with the man.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect if they had to be honest. It's almost as if he had planned it.

They shook off the thoughts and continued sorting through the old boxes when one of the contents surprised them.

It was the items they thought they had lost or threw away. But how could Derek have it when they had lost it before they begun dating. The polaroids were also odd as Derek weren't around during their senior year when it was takenㅡ if the dates marked was correct.

"Honey! Dinner's ready"

They'll ask him about it later.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere #tw: yandere #gender neutral reader #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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simpee9000 · 8 months ago

Text

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

---

-Next Part-

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i9messi · 4 months ago

Text

Hard to get — Oscar Piastri

You're a rookie, always determined to prove yourself on track, but Oscar is constantly underestimating you. He is annoying and has ben like this since you were fifteen.

word count — 2,6k

note: rivals to lovers. oscar is childish and annoying. warnings: misogynist comments made by a journalist. oh, and a car accident. i think i don't forget anything. feedback and reblogs are well appreciated.

MASTERLIST

“Why do you keep looking at him?”

Charles was standing beside you, your gaze didn't move away for a second from the certain driver who was a few meters away. Nothing but hatred in your eyes.

Charles loved to laugh at the fact you didn’t get along with Oscar. He thought it was a childish and stupid fight, where neither of you accepted you were being silly. The Ferrari driver was the one who tried to keep things cool, after all, Oscar was his adopted son and you were like his younger sister.

On the other hand, Lando just laughed and encouraged you to keep fighting.

“He’s looking at me!”

“And you’re looking at him, no need to complain.”

“I hate that stupid face and his stupid hair….”

Charles smiled even more.

“And his stupid voice… Oh, what more?” he added, jokingly.

“Charles, don't try to be on his side.”

“I'm not! This is a stupid fight and you should act like adults, not like kids.”

“Nevermind. Good luck in the race.”

You walked away and put on your helmet. The race was about to start. Starting behind Lando and alongside Carlos, you thought you were doing well in your first season as a rookie. But, bad things were, Oscar was behind you and you knew that could only mean something terrible.

Both were competitive since you had met, always fought for the lead and you didn't think this time would be different. Your relationship was reaching a point where you felt that at any moment everything would blow up.

And Oscar was the one to blame.

He must have noticed somehow that you were thinking of him, because he came to stand closer to you. To annoy you.

“Oh great, it’s you again.”

“I just wanted to wish you good luck.”

Your gaze kept on him, not believing for anything in the world that your greatest rival since you were fifteen really wished you good luck.

But Oscar didn't finish talking, because he smiled machiavelliously.

“...You’re obviously going to end up behind me. It must be a nice view from behind.”

“Me behind you? That’s funny. Last time I checked, you were two positions behind me.”

Oscar was mad, you could notice that for the way he was looking at you, with his teeth biting his lips. For a calm boy, he always showed all his emotions when he had a conversation with you.

“We’ll see how this race ends and if you really deserve your seat.”

“Go to hell, Oscar.”

Oscar smiled and touched your shoulder.

“See you later, princess.”

The race started moments later. Despite the pressure you had to give a good result for your team, you also enjoyed being able to drive the car at high speed. Nothing was like formula one, it was unique. You kept up a good pace and thought that if you fought hard enough, you could get to the podium. Oscar was behind you, but as Lewis was struggling for position and to overtake the aussie, he was busy with more important matters than bothering you. So for the moment, you were fine.

However, on lap nineteen, everything ended for you. You hit the wall on a curve.

“Damn! I’m sorry, guys.”

You were angry with yourself, with Oscar and everyone. You knew it was your fault, because that curve had been difficult for you in each lap and even though you practiced it dozens of times, a mistake had caused the car to move and you could not stop it before the impact.

“Are you all right?” they asked on the radio.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Mad as hell, but fine.”

You got out of the car and the medical staff took care of you to check that your injuries were minor. Once they finished, you locked yourself in your room to try to calm down. You were angry, sad that you failed the team and your ego was hurt.

You heard someone knocking the door, you opened to see the face of your PR manager.

“I know you don't want to talk with anyone, but you have some interviews to do.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

Much more calm than moments ago, you went to the area where a lot of journalists were waiting to ask what had happened in the race. Oscar was there and you saw his evil smile. He was probably happy about your crash, and you hated him for it.

“Hi.” you said to the first person you saw, a man in his forties.

“So how do you feel about your own mistake in the race?”

Some journalists were like sharks, waiting for a drop of blood to attack. A sign of weakness.

“It wasn’t the result we wanted and... I talked with the team and they know how sorry I am. I hope the next race result will be different.”

However, the man insisted.

“We can see that women don’t know how to drive properly after all.”

“Excuse me?”

He didn’t give you time to fight back and tell what you really thought, just kept talking as if the only thing that mattered was his own voice.

“Do you think your team will replace you? You’re not having the result they expected you to have in this season, there are rumors that Perez is gonna take your seat. I doubt you’ll keep the car for the rest of the season.”

You swallowed, stopped looking at the journalist and just turned your head to the side. His words had been like daggers in an unhealed wound.

“I have nothing to say. That's my team's decision.”

You passed to the next person, this time it was a woman who was patient and kind with you. Yet the words of the man kept on repeating in your head. Keeping the seat all season was a hard job, you knew how fast a team could get tired of a driver and how the dream could end in a matter of hours. You wanted to stay there, you wanted to prove what you were capable of.

The interviews ended and you kept your head low, staring at the ground. You walked away and did the worst thing you could have done at that time, you opened twitter. There were a lot of aggressive tweets against you, saying that you were a disappointment to women who wanted to earn a place in sports. But you didn’t want to be anyone’s model or inspiration, you just wanted to be yourself, doing a sport you loved since you were a kid. Why was it so difficult?

Locked in your room, you heard a knock on the door. Someone calling your name.

“It’s Oscar, please open.”

Oscar? What the hell was he doing there? Surely your nemesis wanted to make you feel even worse than you already were. If the press were like sharks, Oscar was a crow.

“Go away.”

"I want to talk with you."

He did not stop knocking the door. Exhausted, you opened the door and saw him. Still wearing his race clothes, his hair was messy and he looked at you as if he had seen you for the first time in those years that you knew each other.

Did he look at you with concern?

“Your tears kill me, I don’t like to see you cry.”

There was still a trace of tears in your face and the only person you didn't want to see them, actually saw them.

“You are an amazing driver and you deserve the seat more than anyone else in the world. No one has the right to make a mean comment about you.”

You wanted to fight, you wanted to get angry with someone. That someone was standing there in front of you.

“So, you think you're the only one who has the right to underestimate me?”

“That's not…”

“Since we met you’ve made my life miserable. You say bullshit about me. What the press and people said about me is more of the same. You’re no different from them.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

He avoided your eyes, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

“Just go, Oscar. I don’t need your pity.”

For the first time, he didn’t insist. He just left. Later that day you started thinking about what it meant for Oscar to come to talk with you.

Lando texted you, saying that the guys were going to the club. Just a few minutes later, Charles sent you almost an identical message, telling you that it wouldn’t be the same without your presence. As much as you were not in the mood, you accepted the invitation. Tomorrow you had a meeting with the team and you knew that that same night you would not be able to sleep. At least you’d have a few drinks and then go back to your room.

Charles came to pick you up at your hotel and together you went to the club, there you met a lot of familiar faces and among them, it was Oscar. None of you said a thing, but there was a strange vibe. The other drivers ignored the situation, and if they felt the tension, they acted as if they had not.

“Let’s dance.” Lando grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You looked at Charles for help but he just smiled at you.

“Go!”

Lando danced with you, but you felt a glance on you. It was Oscar, who drank a glass of something and kept his eyes on you.

“I don’t know what happened between you two but you should talk.” Your friend said in your ear, as you kept your gaze on Oscar.

“I don’t want to talk to him, he’s despicable.”

“But he’s constantly in your head.”

“That’s not true,” you tried to argue, but you knew that was true. Oscar was always in your thoughts, living rent free in your mind. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him.”

“If you fight, remember to talk loudly so I can record you on my phone!”

“Stupid.”

Lando laughed.

After what happened today, you thought you would try to be the adult in the relationship (even though there was no real relationship) and try to at least have a mature conversation with Oscar. You approached him, who was sitting next to Charles and Carlos.

“Oscar, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

That was different. Oscar always said something annoying but not now.

You led him out of the club, until both ended up sitting in his car.

“Do you want to go talk to my hotel?” he suggested, not really knowing where to go. You didn’t want the cameras and people taking pictures of you together, because everything could be misunderstood.

“Uhm— sure.”

Oscar drove carefully until you ended up at the hotel where McLaren was staying. The way to his room was a bit awkward, where maybe you expected him to say something but he didn’t. Oscar stood silent.

Already in the room, you sat on the bed and he stood still two meters away.

“I know you hate me because I’m a woman in sports and you think women don’t deserve a place.”

“That’s bullshit. I don’t think that. Women deserve to be in sports as well as men.”

You raised an eyebrow, confusion showing in your face.

“And why do you hate me so much?”

It was a question you wanted to ask him since the first time you met, that day when he told you that you didn’t deserve to be there and that you would surely cry on the first lap.

“Because— are you sure you already don’t know? It’s pretty obvious.”

“What is obvious?”

Oscar finally spoke, his cute eyes kept looking anywhere but you.

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was fifteen. At first, I thought it was because you were beautiful and you were the coolest kid around but I know it’s deeper than that. I kept thinking you would never notice me and I was trying so hard to catch your attention, so I guess I did what I had to do.”

“So you tried to catch my attention, making me hate you?”

He looked at the floor, avoiding your gaze, ashamed to acknowledge that he had acted in that way.

“It sounds stupid but it was the only thing that came to me at fifteen. When time passed, I couldn't suddenly say that I didn't hate you anymore and no longer wanted to fight with you. It was funny to fight before a race, knowing that it would make you go crazy and say horrible things to me. I liked to think that I drove you crazy.”

You thought about it, until you just said what you thought.

“You’re an asshole, Oscar.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

There was a rare silence, finally his eyes met yours. After so many fights, so many years in which the only things that came out of your mouths were negative aspects from each other, for the first time you were trying not to be bad with him.

“Oscar…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was seventeen. No one knows.”

Oscar’s face looked surprised, a smile coming out of his lips.

“It took two years? See, I’m still faster than you in every aspect.”

He smiled and you smiled, a joke that was offensive and harmless at the same time. Now you understood everything, Oscar was never like a polite cat with you like was with others, he was aggressive and childish. And it was all because he had feelings for you.

“We’re two idiots.”

“We are.”

It was the first time he agreed with you, after all.

You stood and walked a few steps in his direction, Oscar kept in his place. There was a lot of tension in the room, but something had calmed down after both confessed your secrets.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said to you in an almost imperceptible murmur. “and so hard to get.”

“Do you still think I’m the coolest kid around?”

He smiled. “You are, you always were.”

His lips were really close to yours, hoping for a kiss you didn’t know what it could mean. Not when you had spent years hating each other. There was anticipation, there were lots of mixed feelings.

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, as he drew his hand to your cheek.

“I do, that never changes.”

Your lips barely touched when you heard someone knocking the door.

“GUYS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PLEASE DON’T KILL EACH OTHER.”

It was Lando and with him was Charles, screaming as loud as they could. Both accents made the situation funny as hell and also the fact you weren't trying to harm yourselves, you were two seconds away from kissing.

“OSCAR, DON’T DO ANYTHING TO MY FRIEND!”

Before they did anything crazy, or called security, you and Oscar got away and opened the door. Lando looked at you suspiciously.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Charles kept his gaze on Oscar, also with a suspicious face.

“Why are you blushing?*

“We were fighting.” He said, not admitting the truth.

“Yeah, and I was winning.”

Oscar stopped looking at Lando, to only focus on you.

“That’s not true, I was winning. You’re dumb, you can’t win.”

“Oh, Oscar shut the fuc…”

“Calm, calm, calm down.” Charles grabbed you by the arm and pushed you to his side as he pulled you out of Oscar’s room.

When you turned around, you saw that Oscar gave you a smile. A sincere smile, something you had rarely seen. Hell, you were crazy for him.

#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri 81 #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri story #oscar piastri x female driver #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 fandom #mclaren

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pretend-theres-a-name-here · 3 months ago

Text

Everybody at the party seems to know somebody (who’s not me) pt. 2

Continuation of Part 1

2919 words | Set before the events of s3 | Rating: G (maybe T&up) |

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time Steve runs into Brown Eyes he’s freezing in an itchy, too small pair of shorts.

He hasn’t seen him in—well he doesn’t know how long because keeping time after inter-dimensional shit goes down for the second time gets pretty difficult for him, but he knows he hasn’t seen him in long enough to forget what shade of brown his eyes were or maybe it was just dark and he never really got that good of a look in the first place but that didn’t really matter because he thought he would never see him again, he was supposed to never see him again.

Steve’s parents came back for all of three days to lecture him about hospital bills, bills he only had because the kids couldn’t tell their parents about the Upside Down. They didn’t ask about the scar that ran down his left arm, they didn’t ask why he was wearing medically prescribed glasses to numb the headaches they didn’t know he got and they didn’t ask if he was okay. The conversation ended with his father telling him that if he wasn’t going to college then he had to get a job to pay back the bills.

So here he was, elbow deep in ice cream that dried in flakes on his skin and pulling at the hem of shorts that couldn’t be his own. Robin must’ve mixed them up again. Hers fell to her knees and she had to pull them up with a huff whenever she moved.

“Hello and welcome to Scoops Aboy!” She chirped at the kid standing in line, only just able to hide the dead eyed stare she’d had on a second ago, “What flavor can I get for you today?”

The kid stared before pushing one sweaty finger against the glass at the chocolate bin. They were out of chocolate.

Steve sighed because he knew he would be the one who would have to get it from the back freezer when the kid threw a fit and he knew he would be the one who had to clean the glass back to shining.

Robin was desperately trying to sell any other flavor to the kid, “It looks like we’re all out of chocolate, big guy. How about some banana extravaganza?”

The kid shook his head, “Chocolate!” He shouted, voice squeaking. Steve rubbed his temples.

“Hey, dingus, do we have chocolate in the back?”

Steve trudged over to the freezer, bracing himself for the chill, and threw open the door. Carefully arranging the leg of the break room chair to wedge between the door because it got stuck when it shut and the inside handle was frozen over.

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. Exactly one tub of double chunk-o chip chocolate ice cream sat on the shelf. Frozen to the metal, because of course it was.

“Okay, you can do this, just go out there and…be ice cream.” Jesus Christ. Talking to ice cream, Steven, talking to yourself in a dingy freezer.

Steve shook his head, rubbing his eyes to dispel his father’s voice. Steve blew into his hands, rubbing them together so he didn’t get freezer burn for a week—because that was something that happened when the ice cream sat on the shelf for too long—and tugged the bucket down.

When he managed to pry the tub of ice cream off the shelf Robin had already convinced the kid to get another flavor.

“Thank you so much, Steve,” He dropped the tub on the counter, rolling his eyes, “It means a lot that you go into the freezer with all your migraines and concussions for nothing.” Stop whining, Steven, Harrington’s aren’t babies.

Robin just stared at him, deadpan, and Steve scoffed, grabbing a scooper to replace the chocolate ice cream. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her or anything, she was just weird. That was mean, he wasn’t that guy anymore, he was better than some high school peaking idiot now. He should apologize. He should apologize for a lot lately and so far he can’t say any of it, maybe he’s not so different from the asshole who stood by while his friends—

Robin dropped her scooper and shrugged off her vest, tossing her hat onto the table in the back as she walked past it, heading for the door.

“Hey, wait, where are you going? You can’t just leave me here.” Steve called.

“Lady problems, dingus.” She didn’t even have to look back for Steve to know she was smirking.

Can’t even take one shift alone, Harrington men are supposed to be independent, Steven. He could—he would be fine on his own, he could handle this, it was just a few kids in a line that got longer and longer and—he was fine.

“Hello and welcome to Scoops Ahoy, what can I get for you today?” He droned on, customer after customer.

It was nearing the end of his shift when it happened. Steve was grumpy and the lithonia lighting really drills into your eyes, goosebumps dotted his arms and legs.

He was seconds away from filling his hat with ice cream and throwing it over his eyes to combat the headache forming and to top it all off some kid had dumped their banana split down the front of his shirt because it was ‘too cold’. The scratchy material of this stupid sailor costume was sticking to his chest, sopping wet and catching on the scar on his shoulder as if he needed another reminder that it was there, as if it didn’t already throb every few days just to show him he’d never really be okay again and he wanted to cry—if he hadn’t been in public he would’ve been sobbing on the floor. Get yourself together, Steven, you’re a working man not a pathetic little girl.

The bell rang again and he gave himself a second to prepare before lifting his head and facing the customer.

“Hello and welcome to Scoops Ahoy, how may I help you on this fine—” Steve looked up, breath catching when he saw a familiar face, hazel—they were hazel, “—day.”

“Uh…” Brown Eyes’ eyes darted around, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey.” Steve said, sounding more breathless than he felt but that was stupid, stupid, stupid, fucking hey, “I…uh, I wasn’t expecting—” to ever see you again, to ever think about that night again but that’s lie because it’s all I can ever think about. Because Steve had told himself to forget about it, give up on whatever had happened and live a normal life but now—

“Look, man, I didn’t even know you worked here,” Brown Eyes was putting his wallet away, “if I had then I never would’ve come here, I swear.”

“You wouldn’t?” He hadn’t meant to sound so pathetic. Pull yourself together, Steven, have we taught you nothing. Pathetic pathetic pathetic.

Brown Eyes’ eyebrows crinkled, “No?” But he sounded confused which Steve couldn’t blame him for.

He’d been confused a lot since that night. Confused about why he let the gap close, why he pushed forward—why he liked it because that’s not something that happens to him. He liked girls, just like every other guy in this godforsaken town who liked girls, he had to because he and Tommy kissed once in fifth grade on a Saturday night after baseball practice just to see if it would feel different and Tommy had pushed him away gagging. Tommy had told him that his dad was right and boys shouldn’t kiss boys because it was gross so Steve didn’t think about why it didn’t feel different and they never talked about it again. Hadn’t thought about it again, until he was ducking under arms and following strangers to get away from Tommy years later at a party he wished would end and maybe it wasn’t as gross as he told himself it was. Maybe—maybe he—

Steve heard the back door open and slam closed and took his chance, “I’m taking my break, Robin!” He yelled as he grabbed Brown Eyes’ wrist over the counter and pulled him around it, walking them both to the freezer and passing an exasperated Robin.

“You already took a break, Dingus, you can’t just decide to take another!”

But he didn’t stop and she just rolled her eyes.

Brown Eyes was glancing around frantically, “Listen I’m sorry! I’ll leave you alone, dude, I get it! You didn’t mean to kiss me, I stupidly thought that was what was happening. It won’t happen again, I swear, man!”

The freezer lights were blinding and the faint buzz was more grating than usual. If Steve were thinking about it he would’ve known he was dizzier than he should have been. If he had been thinking about it he would have picked up on the beginnings of a migraine worming its way in.

He wasn’t thinking about it, unfortunately, because Brown Eyes was still rambling and he was really cute when he was nervous but Steve wished he wouldn’t. Because Steve’s been doing some thinking since that night, thinking about why it didn’t feel so gross when Tommy kissed him, thinking about why he felt like he’d been strung up and gutted when Brown Eyes took off. He’s been doing some thinking and he’s pretty damn glad he did it before he had to face Brown Eyes again.

The second time they kissed was no more coordinated than the first—probably less so because Brown Eyes was mid apology and Steve flinched when the freezer door slammed shut—

Shit.

Brown Eyes hadn’t moved. He just stood there, mouth hanging open—well opening and closing and then opening again like he didn’t know what to do with it—eyes wide and confused. Because—because Steve kissed him, what the fuck was he thinking? Harringtons aren’t fucking queer Steven. And they weren’t, they weren’t.

What would your father say? And for the first time since he’s ever really thought about it it was his mother’s voice.

“I’m sorry.” Steve whispered, backing against the cold metal shelf, “I’m sorry.” He muttered again because he didn’t know what else there was to say.

Maybe it was the plummeting feeling in his stomach that did it. The swooping and the dull thud of his heart against his ribs—he didn’t know. But he was doubling over so fast his already throbbing head spun, falling on shaking knees, not fast enough to swallow the bile before he was emptying whatever was left of his stomach into an empty tub of ice cream.

There was a panicked squeak behind him, “Uh, are you—should I—“ and then he was crouching down beside him, “I didn’t realize I was that bad of a kisser, Jesus, Harrington.”

And Steve couldn’t help the snort that fell out of him even though it made his nose burn and his eyes water.

Brown Eyes hadn’t stopped fidgeting, “Sorry, sorry, that was stupid—I don’t know why I said that, just nobody’s ever thrown up around me and I don’t really know what to do. I guess rambling’s not the most comforting thing in the world and I can’t stop talking. Do you—should I get—I should go get napkins, probably, right? I’ll do that, yeah, just…wait here—”

But Steve reached out, stopping him with a hand on his wrist because he’d been so caught up in his own head that he forgot to stop the door and maybe he should have felt embarrassed for wiping his mouth on that stupid hat but, “Can’t go anywhere, man. Door’s stuck.” He breathed.

“Shit.” Brown Eyes swore.

“Yeah.” Steve sat up, wincing at the bucket and pushing it away, “‘’Sides, I can handle myself.”

“Right, no, obviously—“ Brown Eyes kept spinning a ring around his finger, tapping a pattern on his knuckles, “Has that—does that happen a lot?”

Steve huffed, leaning his head back against the metal shelf and closing his eyes as the sharp pain spiked behind his eyes, “Migraines. Happens if I ignore them.”

Brown Eyes slid down the shelf, he had a chain link hanging from his belt and it clacked steadily down. He opened his mouth again, barely took a breath before he was closing it and then seemed to shake off whatever nervous energy clung to him.

“Why’d—uh, why’d you ignore it?” He asked, and then, “Oh. Shit, man, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Dude,” Steve let his head tip, ear stinging where it pressed into the cold metal of the storage shelf, to look at Brown Eyes, “It’s not your fault, not like you knew about it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right— obviously. No way I could’ve known, I mean it’s not like we know each other.” He was still moving. An almost jumpy motion to the way he spun his rings, pulled his hair in front of his face, tapped his foot against the tile floor over and over, “I mean we do—or I do. Figure you’ve heard rumors but never put a face to the name, huh, Harrington?”

And Steve caught the almost hopeful way Brown Eyes said his name, the hopeful but shame-filled and god if he didn’t know about shame. The longing that curled bittersweet in his stomach every time he was reminded of a life he could never be brave enough to take for his own. The overwhelmingly dreadful certainty that he would only ever live to settle down, to buy a house and start a family and die a peaceful death beside some woman he liked well enough because technically it wasn’t out of the picture for him.

Because maybe all this thinking he’s been doing has opened his eyes to the parts of him he was suppressing but it didn’t make the other parts, the parts that wanted a family and small little porch that overlooked a garden that won best in show at the neighborhood fair, just disappear. And he knew the path his life would take him down and he accepted it because he was scared, a fucking coward. Fought fucking demons and you’re still afraid, Steven, always afraid. So he ignored it, the hope. For now.

“’S not like you ever told me yours.” Steve hadn’t meant to sound so pissy about it, he wasn’t owed the guy’s name just because they kissed. Never be anything better than a high school bully, Steven, we raised you better than this—

But then Brown Eyes grinned, snorting a little in surprise. Leaned in fast, close enough Steve could feel their breath mix between them and just looked at him like maybe he was going to finally tell him. Or kiss him again. And honestly Steve would welcome either option.

“Maybe I like the mystery.” Brown Eyes was enjoying this entirely too much.

Steve was about to respond, shoot back some snarky reply because that was okay to do now, it would be reciprocated, when he heard the yelling.

“Hey, dingus! Your children are here!” Robin. She pounded on the door, “Jesus, d’you seriously get stuck again?”

Steve sucked in a breath, ignored the sharp pain that speared through his head as he scrambled off the floor. He caught Brown Eyes’ eye, the resignation in them, and only had a second to feel guilty about what must’ve looked like the embarrassment of being caught together. Only had a second to reach out, thought maybe he could grab his hands—it’s not you, it’s not you, it’s the fear, it’s always the fear and I can’t do a damn thing about it. But that sounded far too much like a break up to say to somebody you’ve only kissed twice. Somebody whose name you don’t even know. It’s not you, it’s me, because I don’t even know you but if I did it’d still be me.

The door swung open, Robin keeping it from closing on them with her foot, “What the hell are you doing in here, dude?” She asked, “We’ve got customers. Your tiny friends.”

“Right. I’ll—uh,” Steve glanced back at Brown Eyes, helpless to say anything as he pushed himself up and made for the door.

“Thanks for the tour, man but I should really get going.” No, no, wait, not now please wait, Brown Eyes tipped his head at Robin in a little curtsy as he read her name tag and it would’ve been endearing if Steve’s heart wasn’t pounding in his ears, crawling up his lungs and choking him, “All the gratitude for freeing us, lady Robin. See you around, Harrington.”

Except you won’t, Steve wanted to call out, I graduated, I don’t know your name, stay stay stay—

“Steve.” Robin clapped her hands, “Small children. Waiting for you at the counter.”

When Steve looked back at the door Brown Eyes was gone.

“I got that, thanks.” He muttered.

If he gave Mike a little less ice cream in his free sample when the kid told him he was ‘watching the door wistfully’ he didn’t notice. And if he blamed his sour mood on his headache then it wasn’t technically a lie.

And if anyone noticed anything about it, they didn’t comment.

When Steve got home he hung his jacket up in his closet, bumped the door with his hip by accident and sucked in a breath when he saw the shoes. The ones Brown Eyes left at the party. The ones he’d kept, stupidly telling himself he would return them if he ever got the chance only he’d had the chance and he hadn’t said anything about them.

Now he never would have the chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 3?

Fun Fact: I got so much second hand embarrassment from writing Steve throwing up that I had to stop writing for 2 days

PERMANENT tag list (open):

@yesdangerpls, @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse, @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin, @tinyplanet95, @gatorguy777, @grtwdsmwhr

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pretend writes

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supernova41st · 5 months ago

Note

Hear me out... TF2 mercs with an easily flustered s/o, like so easily flustered even purring out petnames makes reader bright red and stammering like a school girl with a crush

Blush Crush! ᥫ᭡⋆࣪

Tf2 x Flustered!Reader

A/n: I know I made a poll and everything but this req was so cute I just had to make it!! I tried not to do the wattpad “her face was blushing bright red” stuff so I just said rosy a whole bunch. Enjoy!!

Warnings: None

Medic

❥ Definitely takes him some time to catch onto what’s happening.

❥ You had admired him from a distance since he seemed more attached to his projects than some lovey dovey crushes, but that didn’t stop you from yearning!

❥ Once it was your turn to take the Uber surgery your pulse had been rushing since you sat in that waiting room

“Let’s see.. your blood pressure is pretty good”

“Oh stopp! 🤭”

“..alright then”

❥ He did notice how rosy your skin gets when you’re in the same room, and whenever anyone mentioned his name.

❥ If he Ubers you you’re always on straight PANIC MODE.

‘gasp Oh my god. okay okay, is my stance good? Forget that-do I look good?? I don’t wanna die in front of him but I also don’t want to look stupid!! His eyes are practically glued to me right now! Oh, he’s dead.’

❥ Once he did catch up to what was happening he felt embarrassed himself for not noticing sooner since it seemed so obvious.

❥ Has no idea what to make of it, this guy spends his days experimenting on beheaded spies what do you want him to do?

❥ All of a sudden he was the one blushing and getting all flustered.

❥ He started avoiding eye contact while healing you, kicking the dirt all shyly 😭

❥ He’d deliver love notes via Archimedes, you can barely read it tho cuz he has that doctor hand writing <//3

Scout

❥ oh em gee 😒

❥ Don’t even get him started, he loves making you blush and giggle

❥ Scout is quite bold so as soon as he saw your face turn slightly rosy he became so flirty

❥ He’d do the classic lean against the wall type flirting before matches just to feed his ego before entering battle

“Yeah I’ve been hittin’ the gym recently, gotta get these babies ready for the summer”

“Oh wow! You’re so cool, Jeremy..”

❥ The rest of the team feels like a disappointed dad. “You could’ve done better” type shit

❥ Scout would steal your kills to look like he was “saving” you, you’re too flustered to notice

“Whew, you okay (Y/N)?”

“Oh my god, thank you Jeremy…”

❥ First date was at an arcade so that he could impress you with winning some claw machine prizes *he ended up losing 5x and you got him something instead

❥ Neither of you can get enough of each other, especially after dating. You two are always linking pinkies while the team goes over a plan of some sorts

❥ Y’all are that one hallway couple in high school.

“Alright team, we read- euah.. 😟”

“Sorry Engineer, just giving sum goodluck kisses”

“Eugh creepy, could you get neutered you dog?”

Engineer

❥ Engie does catch on to you being so flustered around him but he sorta doubts himself because he’s unsure if it’ll be a distraction from his work life.

❥ After a few weeks he thought “Hey, why the hell not?”, with how hard you were crushing on him, he was sure that soon enough you’d guys be together

❥ He is quite old fashioned, he’s the type to show up to your door step with flowers and would ask to go out for milkshakes

❥ On your first date he got you a bouquet of flowers he sculpted from metal

“Aww you got me flowers? How sweet..”

“Sure did sugar, my love for you oughta wilt away once it does.”

“….”

“..you good?”

You died.

❥ At least you were able to give him his sunflowers. His favorite kind!!

❥ He’s happy he was able to build up the guts to put himself out there again, he adores you, thinks you’re cute for the most part but also charming in a way.

“So do the sentries build themselves or?”

“Nope, I just gotta be quick with buildin’ then between fights, keeps me sharp”

“You’re so amazing Engie! I could listen to you talk all day ༯”

❥ You’re lucky he finds your swooning cute, otherwise he’d probably build some sentries to make sure you weren’t watching him sleep at night.

#NovaWrites*#fanfic #tf2 #tf2 x reader #x reader #medic x reader #scout x reader #enginner x reader #scout tf2 #medic tf2 #engineer tf2 #team fortress 2

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kamiversee · 1 year ago

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 13 || The Unexpected

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, sexual tension, & smut.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU RUSH OUT OF THE building completely flustered with an embarrassed expression written all over your face.

Perhaps after dealing with men who so easily compliment you and fell for your flirtatious traps you'd grown accustomed to not being turned down. Getting dismissed by a man like Toji Fushiguro isn't exactly something you planned for.

It won't stop you from showing up next week and trying again but it will leave you embarrassed and shamefully horny.

You strolled down the campus pathway, heading toward where your car was with your head stuck on what had just happened. The man seriously just told you to get out. You thought you had managed to seduce him at least a little but now you guess you were wrong.

So distracted with your thoughts of what just happened, you nearly miss as a familiar voice calls your name. Your lashes flutter as you blink a few times and look around the area to spot the man who'd called your name.

Your brows push together when you don't see anyone. Okay, now you're hearing things-

"Right here, gorgeous." Geto suddenly whispers into your left ear.

The sudden sound makes you jump and you move your hand to smack his chest for scaring you. He chuckles at your reaction and you give him an annoyed scowl.

"Suguru, don't scare me like that!" You huff.

Geto snickers at you, "Sorry."

A pout takes over your expression and the sight furthers his amusement.

"You're so cute," He hums, raising a hand to pinch your cheek. You immediately smack him off. "Oh c'mon, don't be like that. You didn't even send me a text after our date... How do you think that makes me feel?" He says with a sudden frown.

You blink. "Uh..."

"That's not nice, y'know. Leaving me all high and dry." Geto continues as he shakes his head at you.

"I just thought..." You trail off for a second and the man leans toward your face suddenly.

The words you were going to say fall off your tongue completely as Geto abruptly begins to study your facial expression.

"You alright?" He asks.

You try leaning away, "Yes, why?"

"You look..." His eyes narrow, "I dunno, horny?"

"H-Huh?" Your heartbeat spikes in alarm. If he can tell, does that mean Mr. Fushiguro was able to see that as well? "How the hell can you notice something like that?!" You question the man.

"Darling, I spent an entire night seeing you with that exact same facial expression. I don't think I'll be forgetting it anytime soon." Geto reminds you.

You grit your teeth slightly, "Is it... Is it that obvious?" You mumble.

The man in front of you grows surprised, eyebrows raising and a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "I mean, to me, yes. Though, I wasn't expecting you to admit it so truthfully."

You freeze. Shit, you just told on yourself. "Uh.."

"No need to try lying about it now." Get said with a shrug. He then stands straight up, "What-, actually, who got you all worked up?"

"Uhm..." Your eyes dart off to the side. Why the hell would you tell him anything-

"Was it Mr. Fushiguro?" Geto guesses. He was going based on the building you just left and who was likely to be in there.

Your eyes fly right back over to the man, "How the fuck-"

"Did you forget that I know about the list...?" He reminds you with a slight chuckle.

"You..." A sudden thought rushes to your mind. "Holy shit, you do, don't you?"

"Yeah, so-"

"Shouldn't I be pissed with you right now?" You ask as you remember that Gojo said Geto had videoed you the night of your date.

He scoffs. "What for?"

"Didn't you record me??" You question.

For a moment, Geto stares at you as if he's contemplating something. Then he swallows, "Uh, no."

"No?? But Gojo said-"

"He lied."

"He..." Your head cocks back in surprise, "He what?"

"He lied. I never recorded you." Geto says honestly.

You scowl at the male, "Bullshit."

"When would I have had time to do that?" He scoffs, "I could hardly think straight with the way you were sucking my-"

You move a hand over his mouth and look to your left and right. "Shut up," You snap at the man. "No need to put our business out there like that..."

Geto chuckles beneath your palm before lightly taking hold of your wrist and pulling your hand away. "My bad. But seriously, when would I have recorded you? And if you want," He moves to pull his phone out, "You can check my phone."

You stare up at him, glance down at his phone for a second, then look back up at him. "You could've sent it to Gojo and then deleted it from your phone." You point out.

"True but, I didn't," Geto says.

You fold your arms, "And how am I supposed to believe you?"

"What reason would I have to lie?"

"I don't know."

"And what good would blackmailing you do me? I'm not Satoru." Geto tells you.

He has a point, but you're still unsure if you want to trust him. "You're his best friend though."

"We're two different people. Completely opposite of each other." He hums.

"Okay..." You say, batting your eyelashes at him. "That doesn't prove anything or make me want to believe you any more."

"Alright," Geto sighs, "What if I offer you comfort?"

"Comfort...?"

"I can only imagine how alone you feel in your situation."

Fuck, he's right. You swallow, "I..."

"You can't tell Shoko because you feel embarrassed, can't talk to Satoru because you 'hate' him, and I'm not sure if you know anyone else that you'd comfortably want to talk to about this." Geto points out flawlessly.

You simply stare at the man with hardly any response to that. He's right, after all, you have been feeling ridiculously alone in your predicament.

"I obviously can't make you believe me about not recording you but, you can trust me." He claims.

You remain unconvinced, "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate me like Gojo?"

"Because if I was trying to manipulate you, I would've done it already."

"Uhuh, sure you would've."

"I'm serious. I only approached you today because I wanted to talk to you about this."

"Yeah right."

"I don't know what Satoru has going on in that head of his but even a blind man could see that what he's doing isn't right."

Your eyes suddenly light up, "Are you saying you're going to help me out of this?"

"No."

"But... you could if you wanted to," You say as you raise a brow, "Couldn't you?"

Of course he could. All Geto has to do is tell you the truth about the situation. "What makes you think that?" He asks.

"Suguru..." Your eyes narrow and you lean closer to him accusingly, "You know something that could get me out of this, don't you?"

"N-No." Geto stammers.

"Liar."

"Alright, let's say hypothetically I did... I wouldn't be able to help you out without fucking myself over."

You blink. "Huh, how?"

"Do you really think Satoru is going to be happy with me ruining his fucked up little plan?"

"Well, probably not... But you're his best friend!" You emphasize, "He'll forgive you."

"Perhaps." Geto hums, "But I don't think you realize, you're not the only one Satoru's willing to blackmail."

"...He'd blackmail you too?"

"Maybe. And if not, he'd probably go out and tell people things about me I never intended on sharing..."

"Kinda like how you're a dirty little pervert?" You blurt out teasingly.

The man halts for a second, then he snickers. "Yes... Like that."

"Speaking of which... Do you still have my panties?"

"I do," He smirks and moves as if he were about to pull something out of his pocket, "Want em' back?"

"Y-You don't just walk around with them, do you?"

He laughs at your facial expression, "No."

You sigh, "Thank god. A-And yes I want them back."

"Come over one day and take em' from me." Geto taunts.

"Not happening."

"That's what I thought," He chuckles. "Anyways, back to what I was saying, you can trust me. I can't help you out of your situation directly but maybe I can help you through it."

"Really? You'd do that?" You ask, smiling at him slightly.

He stares at your expression, "Sure."

"Wait... in exchange for what?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying." Geto sighs, "Here, I can even suggest something for you."

"What?"

"Satoru's paying you right?"

"...Yeah?"

"Ask him if he'll pay you for each time you sleep with someone," Geto suggests.

"You mean like," An eyebrow raises, "If I sleep with someone more than once?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"But why would I sleep with someone twice...?"

He shrugs innocently, "I mean, right now you're horny and I'm standing right here..."

"I..." You blink, "Suguru do you want to have sex again? Is that why you're trying to help me?"

"Okay, no. That's not why I want to help you, though the sex would be a nice bonus... I've been thinking about how you probably feel." Geto says. You can feel the genuine care in his voice but you're still wary of trusting him.

"So, what, you wanna be my therapist?" You reply with a playful scoff.

He chuckles, "You sound just like him, y'know."

"Don't compare me to that asshole."

"Sorry. But if that's what you wanna call me, sure. I can be your therapist." He shrugs. "Now," Geto moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pull you close to his side. He then tips his head down to your ear, "Tell me what has you so aroused right now?"

Steadily, the two of you begin walking together.

You swallow, "You want the details...?"

"Sure, why not?" He responds rhetorically.

"Pervert."

"C'mon, what happened in that classroom?"

With a roll of your eyes, you give in, "The professor is fucking hot, that's what."

Geto scoffs, "Yet I'm the perv."

"You are."

"But... you're the one fantasizing about a teacher fucking you..."

"I-I wasn't..."

"Really?" He smirks, "You weren't thinking about getting on your knees and being like 'please sir, just the ti-"

Heat rushes to your face, "Stop it."

Geto starts laughing at you, "Shit, I'm right aren't I? That's one of your dirty little fantasies, isn't it?"

"It's not."

"You can be honest with me, I won't judge."

"...Okay, so what if it is..."

He pauses his words for a second. The man's eyes are all over the side of your face as you keep your gaze forward. "I personally think that's hot," Geto tells you.

"Of course you do." You chuckle.

"What do you mean of course??"

"Slut."

He frowns, "That's your second time calling me that."

"You like it."

He falls silent.

"See? Can't even say you don't."

Geto abruptly whispers your name into the crown of your ear, his voice lower than you expected it to be. "Careful now, darling."

You scoff, "Why?"

"Cause, you're turning me on."

You swallow. Your lower lip gets caught between your teeth at his sudden claim and you can't ignore the fact that your arousal has yet to go away.

"You uh... Do you think Gojo will actually pay me for sleeping with someone twice?" You question, slowly turning your head to look at the man.

Geto meets your eyes and both of you have the same exact thing in mind. The tension was so very obvious.

He didn't need to say anything and neither did you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

This was unexpected. You have no idea how you let yourself get in this position. Damn Geto and his way of convincing you to trust him.

Well, it's not a bad thing that you're trusting him. He made some very valid points, especially the one about him being the only one who knows about your situation and won't judge you for it.

Yet, none of that would've made you think you'd end up in the back seat of his car with his head in between your legs and his tongue deep in your cunt. Good god, the man eats you out like he'd be waiting to do so.

"Fuck Sugu," You breathed out.

The loud sounds of him sucking and slurping on your folds filled the car air. His tongue moved so sloppily over you, lapping up every drop of your wetness like there's no tomorrow.

It was all too much and too little at the same time.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," Geto groans, his voice vibrating against your clit and making your back arch off the seat slightly.

You've got your fingers tangled in that beautiful head of hair of his, unconsciously tugging at it every now and then. The way he'd wrap his lips around your sensitive bud has your lip quivering with moans pouring from your mouth.

Geto flicked his tongue over it and then shifted slightly to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit. Those large hands over his were tightly gripping onto the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread no matter how much you squirmed beneath him.

He pulled his jaw back slightly and peeked up at you for a second before sticking his tongue out and pressing it flat against your wet cunt. Geto slides one of his hands up along your thigh while slurping your taste into his mouth.

Pulling away from your pussy with a loud pop, you hear him swallow. "You've gotta let me get these off you," Geto pleads, referring to the pretty lace stockings you had on.

"W-Why," You stammer as he moves to kiss over your sex.

"Mgh," He moans into you. "I n-need em'" Geto tells you, his voice desperate.

You were unaware but the man's cock was bulging against his pants and he'd been dry humping his car seat to get some kind of friction as he ate you out. You gasp as he moved to rub his thumb over your clit and his mouth focuses on your insides.

A breathy chuckle leaves you, "Need em' f-for what...?" You voice out in between a moan.

The man couldn't even respond to you as he needily worked to please you. Geto's tongue was buried so deep inside your pussy that you think you were starting to see stars. Along with his thumb, you felt his nose brush up against your clit as he pressed his face into your sex.

An arm draped over your mouth, "Y-You're makin' a mess... ngh, Sugu... hah..." You moaned out to the man.

You could feel the way he smiled at your words. The hand that's still on your thigh slides up and one of your stockings is suddenly stripped from you in an instant.

"Mmmgh... I know," He whispers. His face was so wet from you but he didn't care, simply shoving his tongue into your sopping hole regardless.

Confusion takes over your expression for a second but when Geto pulls away and spits on your cunt to further the sloppiness of it all, your brain fades to mush.

That one stocking of yours is soon used for the male to relieve himself. Another loud popping sound is heard as he pries his lips from you and lifts his head. His eyes are so low and lustful, his tongue hangs slightly out of his mouth, and the bottom of his face is coated in your slick.

Geto licks his lips, "Hah... I have class soon," He hums before sitting up.

Two of his fingers slot into you abruptly to make up for the lack of his mouth. "Hnngh... A-Ah, then why'd you w-want to..." Your words fade into a whine as he curls his digits up into your g-spot.

His other hand hastily works to free his cock from his clothes and you hazily watch him hold your stocking in his mouth for a second. After his dick is freed from restrictions, your cunt clenched around him at the sight of Geto using those stockings of yours to jerk off-- shamelessly moaning at the contact of the soft fabric to his shaft.

Your jaw drops at the sight, "You're so... f-fuckin' dirty," You say meanly, words going straight to the man's cock.

Geto tosses his head back, one hand working to please you and the other moving to relieve himself simultaneously. "F-Fuck, mgh... keep, shit, keep talkin' to me like that." He requests.

The fingers thrusting inside you increase in pace and you feel a thumb swat over your clit. "Ha-ah, you're so nasty Sugu..."

"Yeah?" He flashes a smile, "Fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep degrading me like that."

"Mm-mmh... look at you, ngh-, getting off with my stocking..." Your eyes roll back a little, "So filthy-, fuck." You squeak out as your climax approaches.

"Agh," Geto groans, the jerking motion of his hand growing faster as his precum smears along his length.

The situation was so lewd-- Geto jerking off with a clothing item that'd just been wrapped around your leg for hours and his free hand eagerly fingering you as he did so. Your legs steadily drew together while the squelching sound of his two thick fingers plunging into you hit your ears.

It sounded so messy and sloppy. Your moaning and Geto's groaning were filling the car and fogging up his already tinted windows.

Your orgasm crashed over you when the male swiveled his digits around inside you. His eyes were on yours as you did so, large hand pumping his cock with vigor at the sight of you.

"Oh f-fuck," Geto moaned, his voice slightly pitched.

Your eyes were glossy as your orgasm died down but you clearly saw as the man slid his fingers out of you and brought them up to his mouth. You watch those pretty eyes of his rollback once your taste is on his tongue again and he groans against his fingers as he too reaches his peak.

Geto sucks your slick off his own fingers and cums hard into his hand and all over your stockings. The sight of his body shuddering slightly and a string of saliva connecting from his fingertips to his lower lip as he pulls his hand away from his mouth is something you drink in entirely.

You carefully shut your legs and innocently stare at the mess the man has made of himself. "You're gross..." You say teasingly.

"Hah," He pants slightly and glances over to you, "Am I?"

"You just came all over my stocking..." You say with a scoff, "Perv."

"S'that your new nickname for me or something?" Geto asks.

"Yeah, it is." You say with a sigh. After which you shut your eyes and grin, "Gojo better pay me for this or you're in trouble."

"I'm sure he will." He responds simply.

"If he doesn't..." You begin moving to sit up, "You'll owe me."

"Oh, so you're a full-time whore then?"

"N-No but... I need the money," You mumble.

Geto looks down at the nasty mess he's made of himself and chuckles, "I'll pay you if you come clean me up."

You blink, "Are you serious...?"

"Maybe."

You think about it for a second but when you look down at the pitiful sight of your cum covered stocking wrapped around his length, you frown.

"Nah, I'm good." You say simply.

Geto rolls his eyes, "You're no fun."

And with that, the two of you respectively begin to clean yourselves up. You ended up texting Gojo and asking him that question of yours. To which he responded with a bunch of follow-up questions regarding if you had just slept with his best friend again.

When you told him yes, he ended up leaving you on read and simply sending you more money. A smile had grown on your face when you realized that fact bothered him to the point where he couldn't even respond to you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Knowing that you could hook up with anyone on the list more than once and still get paid for it was something that oddly made you quite happy.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you did two things. First, you and Geto ended up talking more than you expected to. He'd give you decent advice on how to seduce Toji and you used every bit of it.

Secondly, you attended that one class and endured a private lesson every Monday while getting riskier and riskier with your flirting.

Each lesson ended relatively the same nonetheless, Toji would say that it's been enough time the very second you had this certain look in your eyes. He learned to steal himself for the way you look at him or the questions you may ask and ever since that one time, he's never allowed you to tempt him again.

You used every ounce of advice that Geto continuously gave you-- maintain your posture, give him bedroom eyes, respond in ways that make the man feel like he's in control, etc. Surprisingly, Geto's advice was really good.

You notice subtle changes every time you use his suggestions and you're pretty sure it was all working. Slowly but surely, Toji was growing closer and closer to crossing that line with you.

After that spontaneous hook-up you had with Geto, you found yourself doing it a few times actually. It was always random and sometimes you didn't even bother to ask Gojo for money because having a fuck buddy was kinda fun.

And no, you didn't forget about the walking green flag that is Choso Kamo. The two of you went from texting every few days and a few phone calls to texting every single day and multiple phone calls. Although you couldn't tell him about the list, you were growing very close to him in terms of friendship.

In your mind, you had Geto to rant to about the list and Choso to talk to about anything else. You had started to feel comfortable in your situation. Well, to a certain extent of course.

There was always this little voice in the back of your mind screaming every time you flirted with Mr. Fushiguro but aside from that, you were slowly getting more and more into this role of yours.

You still actively ignored Gojo unless it was about the list, Geto was a good fuck every now and then and he'd listen to you complain whenever you needed to, Choso was just this little ball of sunshine who you wanted to avoid hurting at all costs, and Toji was...

Okay well, the man was completely fine up until the fourth week of your lessons with him.

It was the first and only time you had arrived late. You missed the entire lecture and arrived at his classroom just as the man seemed to be packing up to leave.

Toji was standing at his desk grabbing a few things but he paused when you came rushing into his classroom. Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to regain oxygen in your lungs.

Your eyes were noticeably low, your face flushed with emotions, and your top was noticeably undone. With your hands on your knees and your body hunched over slightly, you panted heavily to catch your breath.

"M-Mr. Fushiguro, I... hah, I'm sorry I'm l-late." You huffed out.

The man was quiet as he stared at you. Slowly, you stood straight up and began to fan yourself off.

"Fuck," You curse. "Sir it's so hot in here."

Toji blinked at the sight of you slightly sweaty and still out of breath. With a scoff and a light shake of his head, he turns and takes a seat at his desk. "Did you run here or somethin'?" He asks, voice deep and husk like always.

You nod your head, "Y-Yeah."

Was that entirely true? No, but, you weren't going to tell him that.

As you look at the older man you notice that his gaze is slowly trailing down your body. That little stockings and skirt combo is hugging your body again and you don't miss the way Toji oggles the sight of you.

As his gaze rises back up, it comes to a pause at your chest and he raises an eyebrow at you. You blink and look down at yourself, noticing you've got more buttons undone than intended to.

"Shit," You whisper while raising your hands to fix yourself, "Sorry Sir."

"You're fine." The man says. "Sure you still wanna' interview me today?" He asks.

You nod your head again and glance up to look at him as your fingers work against your shirt, "Yes. I know I came late but I'm here now."

Toji moves to rest his elbow on his desk, propping his arm up and resting his cheek against his knuckles. "Care to explain why you were late?" He questions.

You freeze. "U-Uhm."

How are you supposed to tell him that you were late because you were too busy sucking Geto off in his car and almost completely forgot about these lessons of yours?

"Uhm?" Toji mocks, raising an eyebrow.

"Traffic." You result in telling him before looking back down at your shirt.

You began to struggle with one of the buttons and it was starting to frustrate you, especially since you left Geto completely untouched and now you're all hot, horny, and frustrated.

Toji's eyes narrow in on the messy state of your shirt. You looked more disheveled than you realized. "Traffic, huh?" He hums.

"Mhm."

"Traffic's got you all messed up like that?" The man quizzes further.

Again, your body freezes. Your sights slowly rise back up and over to him, "Y-Yes Sir..."

He scoffs and you watch his hand raise. Toji beckons you over to him with two fingers. At first, you don't move. Then, after the slight stutter in your brain, you carefully walk over to him.

Toji's seated comfortably in his chair and peers up at you in front of him. He tilts his head to the side and nods his chin at your chest, "Need some help?" He offers.

You're not sure why his words make you shift around where you're standing. "U-Uh... yes." You murmur.

"Yes, what?" He taunts.

The words slip out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to, "Yes please."

Toji smirks and then sits up. It's so slow and teasing how his large hands rise up along your body, just barely grazing you before he reaches your chest. The man stares for a second and then flicks his gaze up to you.

You watch his fingers latch onto the buttons and he too struggles to fix your shirt properly. Something in your head tells you that he's struggling because of the angle he's at so, your body moves before you think about it.

You take another step forward and move so that one leg is planted in between his larger ones. The upper half of your body leans forward into the man's touch and you place a hand on the armrest of the chair to hold yourself up.

Then, to take it further, you lift the leg in between his and push your knee into the chair. You grow dangerously close to his crotch but you pretend not to notice it.

Toji bats his eyes at the sight of you over him. Your tits are practically in his face and he can smell the freshly sprayed perfume oozing off your body. The fingers he had on those buttons of yours slip off of you and he sits back in his chair.

You swallow, "S-Sorry is this..." You start moving back.

Toji licks his lips before saying, "Did I tell you to move?"

Your body halts all movement in an instant. He smirks at your sudden obedience. The man weighs his head to the side while looking up at you.

Those seemingly hazel eyes of his narrow at you, "Let's do somethin' a little different today." Toji suggests.

You remain over him, "Different l-like what?"

His legs spread further apart and you don't miss the way his hips roll upward as he adjusts himself in his chair. The sight alone makes the annoying throb in your core continue. Toji doesn't lay a finger on you just yet, simply gazing up at you.

"I want you to tell me about yourself today."

"H-Huh?"

"It's been four weeks and I've hardly learned anything about the woman interviewing me," Toji points out. He then tilts his head, "How's that fair?"

You blink dumbfoundedly, "Well... I didn't think it was uh, necessary for you to learn much about me."

"It's probably not but," A slow hand rises slightly and his fingertips graze the end of your skirt playfully. "I am curious."

"Why?" You ask, chuckling nervously.

His eyes drop down to where his hand is and you feel two of his fingers move to pinch the fabric of your skirt. "Every week you show up in a similar outfit and ask me all kinds of questions. And the one thing I've noticed is that somehow," Deep colored eyes snap back up to your face, "The questions always turn into something sexual."

"Well I've said it before Mr. Fushiguro, those questions-"

"Make your project better, yeah, yeah, I know." He cuts off. "But if that's the case, why don't you just find out the answer to some of those questions yourself?"

You swallow, "What do you mean...?"

"Last week you asked me about my kinks." Toji recalls casually, "Why don't I demonstrate one on you?"

Your whole body is hot and needy at the very idea of what he's suggesting. The look in your eyes is unavoidably lustful and the man could clearly see from the moment you'd walked in that you were unusually flustered.

"D-Demonstrate?" You repeat innocently.

"Yeah, how's that sound?" Toji asks, looking for your consent. "You can tell me no if I'm misinterpreting all those looks you've been giving me-"

"No, no," You cut off, "I wanna do it, sir."

Toji's cock twitches at the sultry sound of your voice and the words you just uttered.

That painfully attractive smirk of his appears, "Yeah?"

You nod your head, "Mhm."

Okay, this is not how you intended things to go today. It was supposed to be another day of you flirting and asking more suggestive questions but, this works out for you anyways. Not only are you shamefully wet because of the way Geto was moaning and praising you not too long ago but you also can't help but feel so very needy for the touch of Toji Fushiguro.

His hands are so large and veiny, you want them all over your body. You crave for this professor to manhandle you and fuck you til' you can't think straight.

"Alright then," Toji sighs, sitting back in his seat. His eyes then focus on your own with complete seriousness, "Sit."

You hesitate. Glancing around the area, you wonder if he was referring to a nearby seat or something.

Toji chuckles at the clear confusion in your eyes but then he bobs his leg one good time to gesture where he was talking about. "Right here, pretty girl." He directs.

You slowly look down at his large leg in between yours, "O-On your leg, Mr. Fushiguro?"

"My thigh. Sit." He orders.

Embarrassment was coursing through you. Surely if you sat on his thigh, he'd feel the mess you are in your underwear.

You swallow, "Why...?"

Toji snickers at your hesitance. "I wanna watch you get off on my thigh."

You think you feel your cunt throb as his words hit your ears. The thought alone is dizzying.

"So," He continues, moving a hand to your lower back and lightly tapping you. "Sit."

Finally, you do just as he's instructed. As you seat yourself on his thigh, you feel so jittery and nervous. You're soaked right now and you just know he can feel it.

When Toji sees you've made yourself comfortable, he moves his hand to your chin and grabs a light hold of it, "Good girl." He praises.

You think you had to bite back the moan that wanted to escape you in reaction to the praise alone.

The leg in between yours suddenly lifts into you slightly, making your lips part and a breathy noise leaves you. "Now," Toji takes his hand off you and stares at the full sight of your smaller body resting atop his thigh. "Go on, lemme watch you fuck yourself on me."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

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endereies · 5 months ago

Text

JERSEY - MS

No Nut November - Day 15

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You show up at Matt's hockey game wearing his jersey.

Hockey ran through Matt’s life, no one ever tried to take that away from him. Starting in high school only gave him the push needed to be a professional. Somewhere in between all that chaos, he met you. You weren’t a skater by any means. Matt would sometimes spend his extra practise time, teaching the baby deer how not to stumble.

However, during the final playoffs, the tension in Matt’s body was evident and had been for weeks. When he was tensed, he grew quiet, and the extra practice wasn’t giving him any confidence either. After a few times of being ignored over text, you learnt to steer clear. Causing issues now would only affect how he played, and you knew how important this was to him.

The car ride there was deafening in silence. You willed Matt to drive, hoping that the concentration on the road would help him in anyway. It didn’t. The road rage was intense as he yelled at cyclists and slow drivers.

The placement of your hand attempted to shift to his thigh, in hopes of calming him down. Yet, when he flinched, your hand drew back to your lap, playing with the tassels of your sweats.

One thing you hoped would help was your presence. On average, you never had time to travel the long distance to his games and stay to support as much as you wanted. You hated not being able to show just how much he meant to you at every game, but it was something you both knew early on into the relationship.

Arriving at the stadium was just as quiet, until the door slammed shut. You followed suit, a little quieter than him and met him around the driver’s side of the car.

“You got everything, baby?” you peeked your head around the door while he threw his bag on his shoulder.

“Yeah, s’all here.” He bristled at your words, not holding much eye contact.

You leant onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek “You got this, Matt. You always do.” It was obvious that he needed those words to simmer his mind, but it was still going at a thousand miles per hour.

“Thanks baby.” He relaxed his tone and gave you another kiss before walking off to the entrance, the last he thought he’d see of you that day.

Pretending to move the car was easy enough, you just couldn’t be seen if you wanted this to work. Once inside, you found his brothers standing by the food stalls, grabbing their food before turning in your direction.

“y/n! you made it!” Nick placed the drinks on the counter and hugged you tight, swaying your body. Chris, however, had all the food balanced so you agreed on a proper introduction later.

“Of course I did, I’ve had this day booked off for weeks now.”

“Good thing, Chris didn’t forget the main event then huh.” Your eyes shined when Nick spoke. You had this idea planned with the brothers that you would appear at his final show wearing his jersey. They managed to ‘misplace’ one of them and bring it with them to the show. “You guys are the best”

“It’s at our seats with Justin and mom, c’mon, better go before Matt somehow sees you.”

The seats were unlike any you were used to, front row in the VIP stands. Any other circumstances and you were among the crowd. You gawked at the luxury of the seats before sitting next to the rest of Matt’s family.

That’s where the jersey was showed to you. It was obvious it was Matt’s with the sizing of it, different to yours. The black and yellow made your features pop in the best way and you were hoping the plan would go well. You slipped it on over your shoulders, embracing the immediate smell of Matt as it hit you.

The players all stormed onto the ice, lights flashing inn the crowd as they circled the rink. Matt wasn’t himself; anyone could see just how stiff his body was compared to his teammates. Until he laid eyes on the VIP stands. He was glancing to originally see his family cheer him on, but when he saw you, that was forgotten.

He ignored the plan to greet the fans, breaking off course into your direction. If the bold yellow hadn’t made an appearance already, it had now. In mere seconds he was right in front of the stands, the wall blocking him from you. Once he cleared the wall, you both met halfway in a tight embrace, his stick in abandon on the floor. You looked down to see it wrapped in your favourite colour.

“You came? Shit, I wasn’t aware you were coming.” Nick and Chris fist bumped each other behind you two as Matt only hugged you tighter. His helmet was quickly discarded, getting his head nuzzled into your neck.

“Is this my jersey babe, the one Chris said was ‘at my practice rink’”

“Maybe, I’ve had this whole thing planned for about a month. You’ve been so stressed with hockey lately; I thought this would help.” He shut you up instantly with a harsh kiss to your lips, his grin evident throughout.

“Fuck, no I actually needed this. A lot. I was mostly pissed off that you couldn’t make it, I wanted you here so badly, babe.” His words were music to your ears, his posture deflating in your arms.

“You better get your ass back on that rink and win, alright.”

“Anything for you. I’ll be back with a trophy.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03 @dirtykneesz

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sheerfreesia007 · 5 months ago

Text

Little Book of Love

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Word count: 2,555

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Seungmin enjoys his journaling time and loves the fact that he’s found a close friend that enjoys it just as much as he does. But what happens when he realizes that you’ve got two different types of journals and won’t show him what you write about?

The quiet chirping of some birds in the nearby tree to his balcony soothes Seungmin as he sits at the table lazily writing about his day and the things he found important for him to remember in his journal. The sun was still high enough in the sky to give him enough light to be able to write and he found himself gently closing his eyes as he listened to the quiet busy noises of everything around him. He smiled softly as he heard the scritching of your own pen against paper before he turned his head to look at you. You were sitting curled up in a chair not far from his, your knee drawn up to your chest with your own journal resting on your knee while you quickly wrote about your own day. He sat there soaking in the peace between the two of you as he watched your pen move swiftly across the page. He loved that he was able to share this hobby with you and you enjoyed it almost as much as him, it was something he had come to cherish about your friendship. The way the two of you were able to just exist in the quiet as you wrote your thoughts on how life was going, it was something that he wasn’t able to find with anyone else and he knew it was special with you.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask you what you were writing so swiftly about, he watched in surprise as you shut the journal and slipped it into your backpack before pulling out a separate journal and begin writing slower in it almost as if you didn’t feel rushed to write in this journal as opposed to your other one. He watched as your eyes darted around the page and a soft smile slipped onto your lips pulling the corners up into something so pretty. Flinching at his thoughts he quickly shook his head before nonchalantly speaking.

“I didn’t know you had two journals.” he said softly and your head whipped up to stare at him wide eyed before you ducked your head in embarrassment. He tilted his head to the side curiously at your reaction and he wondered what the other journal was for and why would you need two journals.

“Oh yeah, one is my regular journal for my day to day stuff and the other one is special.” you tell him cryptically and he frowned softly as his eyes focused shrewdly on you. “And no, I won’t be telling you what it’s for. So don’t ask.” you tell him primly already knowing that he’ll ask you about it. He huffs softly at you before pouting as he widens his eyes and you laugh loudly at his antics. “Stop with the puppy eyes. You know it doesn't work on me.” you told him dismissively before turning back to your journal and continuing to write in it.

“Then can I see what you write in your regular journal?” he asked curiously, hoping that you’d let him but ultimately knowing that you wouldn’t. Your journal was private and sacred to you just like his was to him, you never asked to see his journal and until now he never asked to see yours. But the fact that you had two separate journals made him desperate to know what you wrote about that required two.

“No.” you scoffed offendedly and he quickly raised his hands trying to placate you. He knew he overstepped as your eyebrows furrowed darkly over your eyes.

“Sorry, just a shot in the dark.” he said quickly and you huffed at him. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have asked. But I want to know why you have two journals.” he said imploringly as he stared at you.

“Get it out of your head. Just forget you saw it.” you told him with a shake of your head before you returned back to writing in your journal Seungmin leaned back in his chair and continued to watch you before he heard your alarm start to ring and he frowned softly knowing that you would have to leave now. You finished up your last thought before gently shutting your journal and slipping it into your backpack. Standing from your chair you stretch your arms out to either side of your body and arc your back groaning softly when you hear it pop. Seungmin stands also knowing that he won’t be able to keep you here tonight, you’ve got too much going on tomorrow and you have an early morning tomorrow.

You smile warmly up at him causing him to roll his eyes at you before opening his arms to you. You chuckle softly and quickly step up to him wrapping your arms around his waist as you rest your face against his chest. Seungmin wraps his arms around your shoulder before squeezing you tightly making you cry out in surprise and delight. You try to struggle against him but he chuckles darkly into your ear as his arms keep you held close to him.

”Nope, you wanted this so accept your fate.” He said amused as you tried again to struggle out of his hold. When you find that he won’t let you go you melt against him smiling and Seungmin smiles as well as he loosens his hold slightly before resting his head on top of yours. He wonders if you feel as light and happy as he does in this very moment as he gently closes his eyes listening to the chirping birds as he hugs you close before he has to say goodbye.

*-*-*-*

Over the next couple of months whenever you and Seungmin hang out no matter what the two of you wind up doing the hang outs always end the same. You both sit together in peaceful silence while you both journal about your days. And he always notices the different journals, you try to hide them from him but he notices one has a deep navy blue cover that’s dotted with gold flecks almost like stars in the night sky and the other one is a simple brown leather bound journal that seems to have been used so often the leather is buttery soft and flexible. He thinks the brown one is your regular journal and the navy blue is the special one used for a different purpose but he doesn’t know for sure. He wants to ask again why you would need two journals but he’s learned after the first time not to ask again.

It’s the week in between his birthday and Jisung and Felix’s birthdays, he knows the guys are planning a special birthday dinner for him, Jisung and Felix to celebrate all together this year since all of their schedules are all over the place and they don’t have many overlapping days. He’s already asked Chan if it would be alright to invite you as well as his guest and the boys all teased him heartily for wanting to invite you, but Felix had come to his rescue and said he’d also like to invite you, shutting the boys up as they all agreed.

As he checked his outfit once more in the mirror he sighed softly, feeling as if the black button up shirt didn’t sit well on his shoulders. Felix walked past his open bedroom door and halted in his steps when he spotted Seungmin standing in front of his mirror frowning. Seungmin watched him through the mirror as he came to lean against his doorway and cross his arms over his chest as he eyed Seungmin critically.

“You know she’ll love whatever you wear. She doesn’t care about the clothes, she cares about you.” Felix said knowingly as he smirked softly as Seungmin as the man blushed softly.

“It doesn’t feel right.” Seungmin admitted and Felix shook his head before he stepped into Seungmin’s bedroom and over to stand in front of the worried man. He reached up and popped the top two buttons and laid the fabric out on his chest so that it hung looser at the top showing off some skin.

“Try that, it won’t feel as strangling.” Felix suggested as he patted Seungmin on the chest a few times. “But you have nothing to worry about. I promise.” Felix said confidently and Seungmin sighed softly before nodding his head. He knew he was being silly but something felt different about tonight and he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something in the air, some sort of tension or excitement.

The car ride to the restaurant was fun, all of them had piled into the car and they were all being their normal loud crazy selves as Seungmin checked his cell phone for any text messages from you. You had let him know when you had gotten out of work and had told you’d get ready quickly before meeting them all there but ever since that text he hadn’t received anything else from you. Suddenly feeling a weight against his side Seungmin looked up into the warm sparkling eyes of Chan who had a wide knowing grin on his face.

“Is she on her way?” he asked softly and Seungmin frowned softly before shrugging his shoulders.

“How do you know I’m checking for her messages?” Seungmin asked petulantly and Chan scoffed softly while his grin widened on his face.

“C’mon Seungminnie, we all know you’ll be checking for her messages until she gets there.” Chan teased softly and Seungmin rolled his eyes at him before huffing quietly. Just then his phone dinged and he quickly looked down at his phone to see your text come through making the tight feeling in his chest relax slowly. On my way birthday boy! I can’t wait to see you!

“She’s on her way.” Seungmin said softly and Chan grinned widely before nodding his head at him.

“Good, I’m glad.” Chan responded before patting Seungmin’s knee.

*-*-*-*

The restaurant has a warm cozy feeling to it as they are led to the back into a large room where a long table is set up for all of them to sit and eat at. Seungmin walks in and gets settled in a chair halfway down the table on one side, Jeongin takes the seat next to him and then Seungmin sets his jacket on the other chair next to him just as Changbin is walking over towards him.

“Yah! What is this saving seats?” he asks loudly and Seungmin blushes lightly as everyone turns to him at Changbin’s loud words.

“Don’t be jealous Changbin, it’s not a good look for you.” your voice rings out loud enough for everyone to hear and Seungmin perks up with happiness when he whips his head to watch you walk in. You quickly greet Jisung and Felix, giving them each a quick hug wishing them a happy birthday before handing them small gift bags. You then turn and walk proudly over to Seungmin and envelope him in a tight warm hug that he melts into happily. When you pull away you present him with a slightly larger gift bag and an eager smile. “Happy birthday Seung” you tell him happily as he takes the bag from you.

“Thank you.” he gushes softly as a blush dusts his cheeks.

The dinner is lively and such a warm celebration of the birthday boys that Seungmin finds himself losing himself in the camaraderie and the happy feeling of having everyone around to celebrate him, Jisung and Felix. Once dinner is finished and everyone is relaxed, full and happy he turns to you and finds you laughing at something Hyunjin is telling you from across the table. He sits there silently just watching you before her jerks in his seat when he feels your hand grab his under the table, another blush dusting his cheeks lightly.

“Alright, so I think it’s time for the birthday boys to blow out their candles and open their gifts!” Chan calls out happily as everyone cheers in agreement. Three small cakes are brought out and everyone sings a cheerful Happy Birthday to them all while Seungmin hears you sing his name last as you lean into his side happily. Once the cake is divided and handed out he then reaches down to the floor to grab your gift bag, he peers into it and when he spots the journal inside he whips his head up to stare at you wide eyed as you smirk softly at him.

He gently pulls out the navy blue journal with the gold flecks and looks at you surprised and shocked. The boys all glance at him curiously due to his reaction to your gift. Changbin even leans over to ask you quietly what’s with the notebook. It’s your special journal. Frowning softly, Seungmin wonders why you were gifting it to him before he’s suddenly opening it with eagerness, dying to know what it was you have been writing inside of it. On the inside page are the words Things I wish I had the courage to say to your face. He tilts his head to the side before slowly turning the page and his breath is instantly stolen from him as his eyes dart around the page avidly. Filling the page are free formed loving, funny and sweet thoughts that you’ve had about him in the last year of your friendship. As his eyes travel over the words and his hands turn the pages he can feel his heart start to skip beats as he realizes that he’s reading exactly how your feelings developed for him.

Nobody is perfect, but you’re pretty darn close, sticks out to him and he grins wildly at the words written there. I can’t believe how not sick of you I am, makes his chuckle softly to himself before his eyes land on another thought you’ve had about him. I absolutely adore you and can’t imagine my life without you in it. I wish you could see yourself as I see you and I wish I could tell you this to your stupidly handsome face.

When he looks up at you, your face is a pretty blushing mess as your eyes are downcast towards the table, he’s shocked to his absolute core that you could have these types of feelings for him. Not to mention finding the courage to give him a notebook full of these thoughts and feelings. His heart races in his chest as his hand reaches over towards you and cups your face gently guiding you to look at him. He sucks in a sharp breath when your eyes stare at him with wariness shining through.

“I love you too.” he whispers to you as he stares into your eyes, finding joy blossoming in his chest when he sees your eyes fill with love and adoration for him before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours sweetly. Cheers rise around the table as Jeongin makes a comment of bewilderment about what Seungmin thinks he’s doing. “I will cherish this gift for years. May even tell our future kids about how their Mom made the first move.” he says cheekily and you grin widely at him before kissing him once more.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmim #seungmin x reader #seungmin

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scoupsakakitty · 5 months ago

Text

Where Friendship Meets Fate | idol!Mingyu x reader | fluff

The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as the group gathered around the grill, the small Korean BBQ restaurant bustling with energy. Y/N sat next to her childhood friend Dino, who had been hyping up this get-together for weeks.

“You’re going to love my hyungs,” Dino had promised with a grin when he’d invited her. “They’re fun, easy to talk to, and kind of chaotic—but in a good way.”

Now, Y/N was finally meeting them: Vernon, who exuded coolness but had an unexpectedly goofy side, DK, who was radiating sunshine with every word, and Mingyu, the tall, handsome guy sitting to her right. From the moment they introduced themselves, Y/N could tell that Dino hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Y/N!” DK exclaimed as she reached for the tongs to flip the meat. “Wait, wait! Let Mingyu do it. He takes grilling way too seriously.”

Mingyu, who was in the middle of pouring himself a drink, raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me? I’m not that bad.”

“You literally Googled the perfect grilling technique last time,” Vernon deadpanned, taking a sip of his soda.

“And let’s not forget the meat thermometer incident,” Dino added, smirking.

“Hey, that was one time!” Mingyu protested, taking the tongs from Y/N with a mock sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I want us all to eat perfectly grilled meat.” He looked over at Y/N and gave her a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Y/N laughed, leaning back in her seat. “You sound like you’re auditioning for a cooking show.”

“That’s because he thinks he’s a professional chef,” Vernon teased.

“Let him be,” DK chimed in with a grin. “We all know he’s trying to impress Y/N.”

At that, Mingyu almost dropped the tongs, his ears turning red. “What?! I—no—I mean, come on, DK!”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. I’m already impressed by your dedication to grilling.”

“See?” Mingyu said, pointing at her with the tongs. “At least someone here appreciates me.”

As the evening went on, the banter continued, with everyone sharing stories and cracking jokes. Dino told embarrassing childhood anecdotes about Y/N, much to her dismay.

“And then,” Dino said, barely able to contain his laughter, “she got her foot stuck in the playground fence because she thought she could fit through it.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do you always bring that up? I was six!”

Mingyu leaned closer to her, his voice teasing. “So, you’ve always been a bit of a risk taker?”

“More like reckless,” Vernon added with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, enough about me,” Y/N said, pointing at Dino. “Remember when you—”

“Don’t even start,” Dino cut her off, laughing as he held up his hands.

The conversation shifted again, and somehow, Y/N and Mingyu found themselves deep in a discussion about cooking.

“Do you cook often?” Mingyu asked, turning his attention to her while the others debated the best karaoke songs.

“Yeah, when I have time,” Y/N said. “It’s kind of my escape after a long day.”

“Same here,” Mingyu said, nodding. “It’s like therapy, but with food.”

Y/N smiled. “Exactly. Though I’ve had my fair share of disasters in the kitchen.”

“Disasters are part of the process,” Mingyu said. “It just means you’re experimenting.”

“Sounds like something a food scientist would say,” Y/N teased.

Mingyu laughed, a deep, warm sound that made her stomach flutter. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just looking for someone to try my experiments with.”

DK, overhearing, leaned over with a sly grin. “Are you asking her to be your cooking partner, Mingyu?”

“Mind your business, hyung,” Mingyu shot back, but he was smiling.

————————————————————————————-

By the time they finished eating, everyone was full and in high spirits. Dino suggested they hit a karaoke bar, and the group eagerly agreed.

The karaoke bar was vibrant and loud, the perfect setting for their group’s chaotic energy. DK and Dino immediately grabbed the microphones, belting out dramatic ballads and over-the-top dance moves that had everyone in stitches. Vernon followed up with a rap song, his surprisingly good flow earning him cheers.

Y/N and Mingyu stayed near the back of the room, occasionally joining in but mostly talking and laughing. Mingyu was easy to talk to, and his teasing, while relentless, only made the conversation more fun.

“So,” Mingyu said during a lull in the music, “are you not singing because you’re shy, or because you can’t reach the mic stand?”

Y/N gasped, pretending to glare at him. “That’s it. Give me the mic. I’m about to prove you wrong.”

Laughing, Mingyu handed her the microphone. She chose a playful, upbeat song and sang with so much enthusiasm that DK and Dino joined in as backup dancers. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause.

“Okay, I take it back,” Mingyu said, grinning. “You can definitely hold your own.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, pretending to bow. “I expect an apology for the height joke, though.”

Mingyu smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

————————————————————————————-

Hours later, the group finally decided to call it a night. Outside the karaoke bar, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

“I’ll drive Y/N home,” Mingyu offered casually, twirling his car keys in his hand.

“You don’t have to—” Y/N started, but Dino cut her off.

“Take the offer. You know you hate walking home late at night.”

With a reluctant smile, Y/N nodded. “Alright, thanks, Mingyu.”

————————————————————————————-

As they drove through the quiet streets, the atmosphere in the car was warm and easy. Mingyu turned on some soft music, and they chatted about everything from their favorite foods to their most embarrassing cooking failures.

When they pulled up to her building, Mingyu turned off the engine and glanced over at her.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, smiling.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Can I get your number? You know, in case I need someone to taste-test my next cooking experiment.”

Y/N laughed. “Only if you promise not to call me short again.”

“No promises,” Mingyu teased, handing her his phone.

After she saved her number, Mingyu leaned back with a satisfied smile. “How about this: we cook together sometime? You can teach me how to not burn pancakes.”

“Deal,” Y/N said, opening the car door.

As she stepped out, Mingyu called after her, “Oh, and don’t worry—I’ll bring a stool so you can reach the top shelves.”

Y/N groaned, but her laughter echoed in the quiet night.

As Mingyu drove away, he couldn’t stop smiling. For him, the evening had been more than fun—it felt like the start of something special.

————————————————————————————-

#seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #svt x y/n #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt #svt imagines #svt fanfic #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic

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servndipityz · 3 months ago

Text

Namgyu but him being the normal middle schooler way hurts you? Or something like that idk you’re the only one I’ve seen write him so accurately

nam-gyu getting the silent treatment from the reader? his little brain would actually start to short circuit he’d get so grumpy lmao

a/n ── hey! i decided to mix these two anons since i thought they'd make a really good fic together, hope u don't mind :) thank you so much for your requests and your patience, ik this one took a while. i hope u both like it!

SNAP

warnings ── blood, death, general squid game themes

word count ── 2.4k

────────────────────────────────────────────

silence.

silence was all that filled the air as you descended the stairs, walking in line back to the dorm room. you were surrounded by more than a hundred players, but nobody spoke. nobody dared.

the last game had been a bloodbath, to say the least. you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget the lifeless eyes of innocent players lying on the ground—especially knowing it could have just as easily been you.

and it had been damn close.

you turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him a few steps behind you. nam-gyu.

you’d thought you could tolerate him. the way he talked over you, the way he always had to have the last word, the way he threw whatever was at hand just to get on your nerves. annoying as fuck, but bearable.

this time, he'd pushed too far.

from the moment mingle had begun, your heart had already been racing. hell, you could still feel it hammering in your chest at an abnormally high rate. but that wasn’t enough for him, was it? no, nam-gyu, who had taken whatever shit drug thanos had given him, had stood by your side.

that was normal, you'd come to realize. you didn't understand why, but somehow, after swearing he hated you, he'd always end up next to you.

so, while the damn carousel was spinning, he'd leaned in, voice just low enough for only you to hear. maybe he'd taken pity on you. maybe he'd seen how scared you looked. you cursed yourself for ever even thinking that.

"you sure you got this? you look kinda nervous…" he said, a small smile forming on his lips as you turned to him. "what if you freeze up? or what if nobody picks you? that’d be bad."

"shut up," you muttered, looking away, narrowing your eyes—ignoring the cold, sweaty goosebump crawling over your skin. it had sounded more like a plea than a demand.

"and what if you end up alone?" he went on, completely ignoring you, inching closer—if that was even possible. "you’d just be standing there while everyone rushes away—tick, tock, tick, tock…"

that was when the nausea hit. real nausea. he was just messing with you… like he always did. but what if?

when the first number was called and the game started, you managed to get through a couple of rounds, your eyes filling with tears from pure nerves.

then, one of the last rounds. the voice called out 3. you looked at nam-gyu and thanos in front of you, thinking—just thinking—that you were saved.

you rushed to them, just as nam-gyu took a step back.

"actually, i think i see a better option over there," he said, pointing at a random player.

your soul hit the floor. he was actually going to leave you behind. you were going to die.

panic took over, tears slipping down your face as you frantically looked around for someone, anyone, to save you.

"tick, tock, tick, tock..." nam-gyu’s voice echoed in your head.

then—someone yanked you by the arm, shoving you into the nearest room.

you gasped for breath, your chest heaving. you were alive. you hadn't died.

nam-gyu snickered in front of you. thanos, also in the room, stood by the little window, uninterested in whatever had just happened between you two.

"what—" was all you managed, quiet sobs escaping your lips as you struggled to process it. you were alive. somehow, you were alive.

"you actually thought i was gonna leave you?" nam-gyu giggled. giggled. he had his hand over his mouth like it was the funniest thing in the world. "that’s crazy."

you shook your head as a tear threatened to spill, breathing in through your nose to steady yourself. the memory of what had happened less than an hour ago burned in your mind.

ha wasn't just mean and annoying. nam-gyu was cruel. nam-gyu was evil.

you'd judged him wrong. he wasn’t just a boy hiding his fear behind teasing. he wasn’t someone you could ever grow to love under different circumstances. he wasn’t misunderstood. all those thoughts you’d had before? wrong. they had to be. he was heartless. and you hated him.

as you stepped into the main room, your heart eased—just a little—when you spotted se-mi. without thinking, you quickened your pace toward her.

she did the same, meeting you halfway and grabbing you by the arms. “thank god you’re okay,” she said, eyes scanning your disheveled state.

you inhaled sharply, nodding, even as the words caught in your throat. she tilted her head, concern deepening in her expression.

“is everything—?” she started, but before she could finish, another voice cut in.

“wassup, team?” thanos said, strolling over and throwing up gang signs he probably didn’t even know the meaning of.

but of course, he wasn’t alone.

you felt it immediately—nam-gyu’s presence behind you. close. so close that if you moved even an inch, you’d collide into him. but still, never touching.

“we almost thought we were gonna die back there, huh?” nam-gyu said, still amused, his gaze lingering on you.

you turned to him. fuming.

so many thoughts ran through your head. so many things to say. so many bones to break. you opened your mouth—

and then shut it. no. you didn’t want to see him again. didn’t want to acknowledge his existence. but since you were stuck in these fucking games together, you couldn’t exactly avoid him.

so you’d do the next best thing.

act like he didn’t exist. because to you, he didn't.

you could see it in his face, his grin starting to form, waiting for you to say something, to take the bait like you always did. but not this time. you just shot him a grimace, turning and walking awat toward the bathroom.

and so, time went on.

but not for him.

nam-gyu wasn’t used to silence. not from you. not like this.

at first, he barely noticed. he was still riding the high of his own amusement, watching you seethe in barely restrained anger. but the longer the minutes stretched, the longer you refused to bite back, the more something began to gnaw at him.

it started with the little things. the way you didn’t even look his way when he made some stupid remark at dinner, or how you barely reacted when thanos made a joke about his survival skills. before, you would’ve rolled your eyes, shot some sarcastic comment back, but now—nothing. not even a twitch of annoyance.

the way you turned your back to him, like he wasn’t even in the room, like he wasn’t even worth acknowledging—it set something off in him. something uncomfortable. something he didn’t want to name.

he tried again later, when almost a day had passed. sitting on the stairs of the beds, staring at nothing, your hands gripping your knees like if you let go, you’d shatter. he sat down beside you, close enough to invade your space, to test you.

"so, what, you mad at me or something?" he asked, voice deliberately light, teasing, waiting for you to react.

nothing.

his fingers drummed against the metal. "c’mon. you can’t seriously be mad. it was a joke. i knew someone would pick you up." he turned his head toward you, watching for a flinch, a flicker—anything. "you really think i’d let you die?"

still, nothing.

you just stood up, walking away like he hadn’t even spoken. like he was air.

his jaw clenched. fine. two could play this game.

except—you didn’t break. not that night. not the next day. not the next game. not even when he upped his antics, when he threw crumpled-up paper at the back of your head or made offhanded comments just loud enough for you to hear.

it was driving him insane.

he never realized how much he thrived off your back-and-forth until it was gone. until you treated him like a ghost.

until he realized—he didn’t like being invisible to you.

the next night, the dorm was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that only came when exhaustion weighed too heavy on everyone’s bones. nam-gyu lay on his bed, eyes open, staring at the ceiling, restless.

fuck it.

before he could second-guess himself, he was already moving, slipping off his mattress with the kind of ease that came from knowing how to sneak around. his feet barely made a sound against the cold floor as he crept across the room, stopping just short of your bed. he hesitated for a second—just a second—before sitting down at your feet.

you shot up immediately, eyes wide, breath hitching. "what the—" the words died in your throat as you jerked back against the pillow, your hands bracing against the sheets. for a split second, you were ready to shove him off, to kick him away—

but then his hand was over your mouth, and his face was inches from yours.

"shh." his eyes flickered to the other beds, scanning for movement. none. he exhaled, slow and careful, before pulling his hand back. "relax, okay? i just—"

he trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. he just what? wanted to bother you? wanted to win? no, that wasn’t it. the truth was a little more pathetic than that. he just missed hearing your voice, even if it was yelling at him.

he shifted, sitting cross-legged now, knee brushing against yours. you had pulled yourself up too, back pressed against the headboard, muscles tense. you were still watching him like he might pull something, but there was something else there too. wariness, sure. but curiosity too.

"you just what?" you repeated, voice still laced with annoyance, but softer now. almost… wary.

he swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close you two were, your eyes on him in a way that made his heart pound annoyingly fast. "i dunno," he muttered. "wanted to see if you were still alive."

"seriously?" you scoffed. "get out."

but you didn’t push him away. and he didn’t move.

"nam-gyu, i swear to god—"

"you really hate me that much, huh?" he interrupted, his voice quieter now. the teasing was still there, but barely. something more vulnerable lurked beneath it, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to confront. "like, actually?"

silence. you looked at him then, and for the first time in days, he saw something other than anger in your eyes. something conflicted. something dangerous.

"you tell me," you whispered, your breath fanning against his cheek. your fingers twitched, like you were resisting the urge to shove him away—or pull him closer.

his throat went dry. he wanted to say something. something cocky, something that would shift the power back into his hands. but all he could think about was how your lips were barely inches from his, how your warmth seeped into him like a slow burn, and how he wasn’t nearly as immune to you as he thought.

you were waiting for an answer, your gaze piercing into his, but he had none. not one that wouldn’t make him look stupid, anyway. he wanted to scoff, to roll his eyes and tell you to lighten up, but he couldn’t—not when his own heartbeat was betraying him.

you pulled back first, sitting up straighter, arms crossing over your chest. "forget it," you muttered, shaking your head. "i don’t even care."

hut he couldn’t be invisible to you. he wouldn’t.

because you did care. he knew you did. he could see it in the way your hands clenched, the way your knee bounced slightly, the way you were holding back from looking at him. you cared enough to be mad, enough to hate him, enough to freeze him out.

"yeah?" he said, leaning in slightly—but this time, there was no smirk, no game. "then why do you look like you’re about to cry?"

that was it. that was the final fucking straw.

something in you cracked wide open, all the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface before you could shove it down again.

“you always do this,” you hissed, your voice low. “you push and push and push, and when i finally break, it’s just a joke. when i get mad, I’m overreacting. when i tell you to stop, you just push harder.”

his stomach twisted. you weren’t just lashing out. you were breaking apart.

“you’ve been messing with me since the second we met,” you went on, voice rising, not caring if anyone heard. “every fucking day, it’s something new. tripping me, throwing things at me, talking over me, getting in my face. it’s exhausting. and i let it go because i thought—” you cut yourself off, jaw clenching, forcing yourself to breathe. “i thought maybe you didn’t mean it.”

nam-gyu stayed quiet. just staring. no teasing grin, no cocky remark. just… watching.

“but you do mean it,” you whispered. "because you think it’s funny. because you like seeing me mad. because it doesn’t matter if i’m actually hurt, as long as you get a reaction." you shook your head, voice unsteady. "and i’m done."

nam-gyu’s chest tightened. his hands clenched in his lap. he wanted to argue. he wanted to tell you that you were wrong. but he couldn’t—not when you were looking at him like that. not when he knew, deep down, that you weren’t wrong at all.

"I’m sorry."

the words came out so quiet, so unnatural in his own voice, that for a second, he wasn’t sure he’d actually spoken them.

you froze.

his lips pressed together like he immediately regretted saying it, but there was no taking it back now. his hand twitched in his lap, like he wanted to reach for something but didn’t know what.

"you—what?"

nam-gyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but you. "don’t make me say it again," he muttered.

a beat of silence.

then—a laugh. small, quiet, barely there. but real.

it startled both of you.

nam-gyu’s head snapped up, watching as you bit your lip, shaking your head like you couldn’t believe it. "you suck at apologizing," you said, still exhausted, tired.

his lips twitched. "yeah, well. not much practice."

"clearly."

another pause. this time, the silence was lighter. not quite peace, but not war either.

nam-gyu let out a dramatic sigh, sitting back onto the mattress. "so," he drawled, hands fidgeting with a loose strang of your bedsheet. "am i still dead to you, or…?""

you rolled your eyes, relaxing but keeping your distance. "we’ll see."

"uh-huh. that’s progress."

"shut up."

"make me."

he knew he wasn't just sorry, no, he knew it was much deeper than that. but that was all he would allow himself to say. for now.

and just like that, maybe he wasn't that evil.

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#nam gyu #namgyu x reader #nam gyu squid game

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wosoafc · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! Could I ask for something with Alessia Russo? With Reader being the younger sister of Leah?

warnings: SMUT + 18 in the end! (English isn't my first language, please ignore any mistakes...)

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„Hey Katie! Do you know who this is? Right next to leah?“ alessia pulls katie tot he side before she had a chance to sit down for lunch. „Thats y/n, you don’t know her?“ Katie asked confused. Being at arsenal for quite some time she has seen you growing up as leahs little sister. You knew katie since you were about 11 years old, with her being at the club for almost 10 years now. „Leah has a sister???“ Less asks, eyes wide open out of surprise. „Yeh, back when i got here she was a tiny little girl, and now look at her, all grown up., a real women now“ Katie chuckles but less just nods and mumbles „She really is…“. Katie gives her a confused look but then proceed to sit down at her lunch table, as well as less sitting down next to kyra. Nevertheless she can’t keep her eyes off of you and she is barely able to follow kyras conversation.

At the other table you find yourself with similar thoughts, even though your eyes never meet alessias. Obviously you knew her, but only from the tv and pictures, the real thing was something completely different. After finishing high school you decided to move to the states for a few years to pursue your career as a sports physio at college. But now, with a degree in your bag, you decided it was time to come back home, and that was the reason you found yourself at the arsenal training center this morning. Leah managed to get you an interview and now you were just hoping they would choose you. You have always been a big arsenal fan, just like your sister, but a career as a player wasn’t something you wanted to approach. Still, working fort he club you‘ve been cheering on since being a little girl, would be a huge honor. And this lunch made you want to spend everyday here even more. You didn’t know how to approach this, you didn’t even talk to alessia yet, but you knew from the moment you laid eyes on her that you wanted to.

So, after succesfully getting the job at arsenal, it was finally time for your first day. Renee introduced you in the morning, and everyone was so excited to work with you. The arsenal girls adored you, you knew that. Back in time you would always spend time with them. It was like the whole team was your big sister, not only leah. Being thrown into work rightway made you forget about your constant thoughts about alessia for a few days, but it didn’t last long. During a training session she got hurt, just a little bit, but it still led to you guiding her into the physios room. While you were examining her foot she finally broke the silence „Why didn’t i know leah had a sister until a few weeks ago?“ she grins down at you when you look up and chuckle. „I don’t know. I went to the US for a few years and wasn’t around here for quite some time. Apparently all that girl can talk about is football and herself“ you grin and alessia giggles a bit. That was the moment when you knew, that you would never get enough of that sound, and you would probably do everything to hear it again. „Well nice to meet you now“ less grins and sits up as soon as you are done. „Jep, and if you like leah just wait until you get to know the best williamson child.“ Alessia giggles again and you give yourself a mental high five for that. „If you say so…i do like leah pretty much so you’ll have to try hard“ she grins cheekily at which you playfully roll your eyes. „Challenge accepted.“ You say before taping alessias ankle while conintuing to chat with her a bit.

From that moment on it was a miracle when you and less were not talking. At lunch, in the gym, your office just everywhere when you both had the chance to spend some time. Usually you were making jokes, good and bad, about everything and everyone, while less was just giggling 99% of the time. You thought it was the perfect arrangement. But for now it was only light, playful banter, you never managed to have a serious conversation with her. Let alone coming close to asking her out in some way. It was getting harder and harder, spending time with alessia just made you want to be close to her more and more. So after a few weeks at arsenal you decided to test the waters a bit, pulling katie aside after training to talk. Katie was one of the girls you knew the longest. You couldn’t ask your sister about stuff like that, she would just get weird and all protective. So you thought katie would be the best person to approach.

„Hey kiddo, what’s up“ katie grins and slumps down on a couch. You sit down next to her and sigh before starting the conversation. „Umm do you think it would be weird if i would…be with someone from the team?“ you ask carefully but katie just cant contain a laugh. „I got a girlfriend williamson“ she grins which earns her a slap on the arm from you. „Not you! Now be serious“ you laugh but try to stay on track with the conversation. „Hm no, i think it’s fine. You’re not our coach or something so just go for it“ she states and you nod relieved. „Good…now on a totally unrelated note, do you know alessias…situation?“ you ask while blushing heavily. Katie laughs again and nudges you before answering „So you got the hots for less? I know she is single but nothing more than that“ katie shrugs and you nod. „Alright that’s all i need to know…thanks katie“ you smile and she ruffles your hair a bit. „Course kiddo, go and get her!“.

So now you found yourself, waiting in front oft he changing rooms for alessia to come out. She was always one of the last so you figured that would be your chance to talk to her alone. Finally, just as predicted after everyone else already left, she stepped out. „Hey less, i wanted to talk to you“ you get up from your seat and approach her. „Hey“ she smiles softly which gives you a lot more confidence. „I wanted to ask you something“ you start and she nods encourangily so you continue „If you…wanttohavedinner with me“ you mumble and she can’t contain a small giggle. „Sorry i didn’t catch that, what’s up y/n?“ she grins. Even though she didn’t understand the whole sentence, she kind of knew where you were going with this. You sigh again „Do you want to…go out with me some time?“ you finally manage to say out loud. Her grin widens and she gently takes your hand, stroking with her thumb over it. „I’d love to“ she answers which makes you breath out relieved by that answer.

It only took a few dates, that laste about 2 days each, until you both were head over heels for each other. You still kept it a secret, even though katie kind of suspected that there was something between you too, but apparently she kept this to herself as well. This meant you kept it a secret from leah as well, which made you nervous from time to time but less assured you it’s gonna be alright.

When your birthday approached you two were dating each other for 4 months and less couldn’t be more excited fort he day. She loves to make gifts and looking after you. Having a day off you were still sound asleep when she was already downstairs, preparing a breakfast in bed for you. A few minutes later you were woken up by the smell of pancakes and fresh coffee right next to you. „Good morning birthday girl“ less grins at you and gives you a sweet, lingering kiss on the forehead. „Morning less“ you smile back, rubbing your sleepy eyes. „Brought you some breakfast, your favourite“ she grins and slumps down next to you. „Hmm thanks lessi“ you grin and start digging into the pancakes while less was having some as well. After finishing the food you stretch yourself and smile over to less „I’m so glad i have you lessi“ you say and situ p but less has other plans and pulls you down next to her again. „Me too baby“ she mumbles into your neck and kisses it lightly. After a few kisses she sits up and grins at you „I already have your first birthday present with me“ she smiles and plays with your hair. „Really? Where is it?“ you laugh and try to situ o but less pushes you down and straddles your lap. „Why don’t you take this off“ she points to her oversized shirt and shorts „and find out yourself“. You grin cheekily, already sensing where less was going with this. So you dont hesitate and pull her shirt over her head and shorts down. You flip her onto her back and look down at her with dark eyes. „Arsenal red, just for you“ less grins, wearing a gorgeous red lingerie set that she got for your birthday. „You are so fucking beautiful“ you groan and finally kiss her deeply, letting your tongue slip in rightaway. Your hands where everywhere, on her neck, face breasts, legs and ass. Wanting to feel as much as possible of less soft skin. Her neck was already red from your nips and kisses while you where kissing down the valley of her breasts. „Hmm i’m gonna make you feel sooo good“ you mumble against her skin while stroking up and down alessias waist, fingers dipping into the slip from time to time. „No baby“ less glances down at you „Today I’m gonna make you feel good“ she grins and pulls you up by the collar of your shirt and flips you around again. „I thought we could try something new“ she bites her lips and smiles lightly. Your sex life was, exciting to say the least. But for now you have always been the one on top and in charge. It turned out less never had sex with a women before which led to you taking the lead. But apparently less has gained a lot of confidence in her sexuality by now and was willing to change things up a bit. And you weren’t opposed to that idea at all. „Yeah? Go ahead lessi girl“ you grin and cross your arms behind your head, looking expectingly at less. After taking off your clothes less dove straight in and started sucking at your already hard nipples. She knew how sensitive they were and spent quite some time stimulating them before kissing further down until she was head to head with your cunt. She kissed over the wet fabric, lingering over your clit for a few seconds longer which made you squirm, pressing your legs together a bit. „Fuck less“ you groan at the sight and feeling of less being down there. She looks up at you and then slowly takes your slip into her mouth before pulling it down to expose your wet cunt. After throwing it away somewhere in the room she sits up and takes your thighs in both her hands. „Spread your legs wide form e babygirl“ she demands and you immediately obey. „Good girl“ she grins and then starts kissing the inner side of your thighs before finally taking a long lick though your folds which makes you moan loudly. „Fucking hell less“ she groan and she starts licking faster before taking your clit into her mouth, sucking on it gently. „Yes right there“ you moan again and press her head down a bit while rocking your hips into her face.

And suddendly the door bursts open, leah stepping inside before she realizes what was happening with shocked scream and wide eyes, face going completely pale. Less ist he first to do something and very quickly pulls a blanket over both of you. „What the…less what are you…y/n explain!“ leah finally manages to stutter out, not knowing how to feel about what just happened. „Leah you cant just walk into my room!“ you protest and pull your shirt over your head „Whats wrong with you?“ you add. „I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday! Would you please explain…this now?!“ leah answers. „well i think you saw quite clearly what less and i where doing“ you answer bluntly while pulling up your shorts again. Leah grumbles and then adverts her gaze to less. „What do you think you’re doing?“. „I-im sorry leah“ less mumbles, being completely overwhelmed by the whole situation. „She is my fucking sister alessia!“ leah says angrily which makes less eyes go glassy. „I- she is, we are dating“ less trys to explain herself but leah just scoffs. „Dating? So you’re fuck buddys great. Because there are no other girls to fuck in london than my sister?“. „No one like here…“ less says quietly before regaining her composure, knowing she hast o step up now. She takes your hand and looks up at leah again „We’re not just messing around…I’m sorry she is your sister leah but i…i love her“ she finally says which makes your head snap to her rightaway. „You do?“ you say, not believing what you have just heared. „I rellay do love you, and leah you can’t change that“ alessia states, more sure than ever. „I love you too“ you smile and look her deep in the eyes before you hear a cough and remember leah is still there. „Leah i rellay care about her, can’t you just be happy for us?“ less asks carefully and leah rolls her eyes but the anger is seemingly fading away. „Even tough my brain is seriously damaged after seeing…that. I have to right?“ she asks. You both nod in unison which makes leah chuckle a bit before she nudges less slightly. „If you hurt her…she has a bunch of older sisters at arsenal that will kick your ass“. Less giggles slightly and pulls you into her side „Don’t worry cap, never in a million years.“ You grin at less and leave a lingering kiss on her lips which is only broken by leah making a gagging noise. „Don’t push it guys“ she groans and leaves the room, never forgetting to knock on your door again.

#alessia russo #katie mccabe #leah williamson #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso smut #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo smut

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pedropascallme · 8 months ago

Text

Here Below

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!Reader

Summary: "He wasn’t used to need like this, the type that came with consequences less physical and more emotional."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) canon typical violence and lots of it, threatening language, angst, mentions of cannibalism, age gap obviously (Cooper is canon 200+ years old; reader is written as early 20s), loss of virginity, Coop’s got a thing for corruption, masturbation (m), oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, biting, dacryphilia, like one (1) spank, so much dirty talk, degradation, praise, brief mention of anal, multiple orgasms what's a refractory period, creampie, phonetic spelling of Cooper's accent because I can, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: And here's part two!! Part one here!!

When he was young, Cooper had a mantra; live long, live well, live forever.

The idea of fading into nothing was horrifying enough to keep him up at night even when he wasn’t yet old enough to write his name legibly in crayon. So he became something—made something of himself, and carved out a lasting legacy in his career and in his daughter.

And where was she?

Where did the time go?

There was a cavity in his chest the size of his fist. It hollowed and cracked the longer he lived, and he knew he’d become a shell of the man he once was. Surviving didn’t cut it; the more time he spent in the wastes, the more often he considered fading into what he was so afraid of once upon a time.

But you were warm. Your cheek pressed against Cooper’s chest in a manner that looked uncomfortable; you sagged into him, sliding gently up and down the fabric of his shirt as you took soft breaths in your sleep. He felt it a priority to stay upright, to breathe softly and let his eyes dart ceaselessly around the cavernous building with its too high ceilings and echoey walls. To keep you comfortable. To keep you safe.

To keep you alive.

Because there was life in you, unlike any he’d been able to conjure up for himself. You were so unbelievably fucking willful, so optimistic in the face of end times. And even when you lost that optimism, the fear that you expressed was never selfish.

They had your face. You don’t have a name. I don’t want it to happen to you.

Cooper felt another bit break off from the hole inside his chest as he recalled your tears.

But when he looked at you now, frozen in unconscious bliss, the occasional twitch of your brow as you dreamed, he dared to consider the possibilities.

He wasn’t used to need like this, the type that came with consequences less physical and more emotional.

He wrapped an arm around you, muttering into the darkness about how you’d fall off of him if you kept slipping down the way you were, searching for an excuse for the action he knew was meant to ground himself.

That wasn’t to suggest that your presence offered no biological effects. Daily you found ways to make life more difficult, his pants tighter, and daily he thought about showing you what you did to him—over and over and over again.

He would never get over the image of you, nude from the waist down, choking on the syllables of his name as you made yourself cum. And he never wanted to forget it; you, so pretty and naïve, allowing for such corruption under his watch, glowing under his praise and keening at his demands.

He felt himself throb, the sore tip of his cock leaking enough to create a mark on the fabric of his pants. Despite the depravity of it all, he reckoned his only options were to take care of himself or walk stiff all throughout the next day.

He also knew that it was the depravity that really did it for him.

He took off his gloves; while the leather usually did just fine for him, he craved something more tender, more human. Carefully, with the hand not burdened by the weight of your head on him, he undid his belt, popping the button on his trousers and inching the zipper down. He reached into his boxers, pulling his length free and groaning softly at the relief he felt shoot through him. His cockhead, swollen and red from lack of attention, leaked with his arousal. His skin was hot, radiating lust as he wrapped a fist around himself, trying his best to leave you undisturbed as you stayed snoring softly on his shoulder.

Even in the fading light of the fire, he could see his fist, scarred and barely human, juxtaposed with the still peachy-tan skin of his cock. The irony of the one part he had that still looked the most unchanged being the one that gave him the most grief wasn’t lost on him, but he sighed, ignoring the mental gymnastics he was trying to perform and instead focusing on the squeeze of his hand around his erection.

He let himself fall into fantasy, imagining your hands, uncalloused and smooth, stroking him. He hesitated with each brush over his length, trying to encapsulate your willingness and uncertainty, your eagerness to please and your curiosity of his anatomy fighting with your lack of experience. Cooper mumbled to himself, the pleasure giving him the confidence to be unrestrained even with you pressed to his side, and imagined what he’d say if it were you: “Gentle like’at, sweetheart. Give it a squeeze, don’t forget the tip, there. How ‘bout you take a taste, baby—wrap them pretty lips ‘round my cock and lap up what I give ya. Wanna see ya take it all.”

His head fell back, ashamed but so greatly enjoying the mental image. He thought of you, spread in front of him and bucking your hips, struggling to fit two of your fingers into your cunt, and a gruff moan ripped from his throat as he pictured you in the same position, your fingers replaced with his cock as you begged for more, fighting to take him past the tip.

Your hands. Your lips. Your tongue. Your cunt. He wanted all of you, helpless underneath him as he showed you the ropes, crying out your want and your satisfaction. He wanted to corrupt you, ruin you for anybody else, and then some.

He tightened his grip, slowly stroking from base to tip and manipulating his wrist to bob over the head of his cock, forcing him to arch his back and let out a raspy groan of your name.

His jostling roused you from your sleep, and you sighed, blinking your eyes in the dark at the silhouette of his cock.

He didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t care, but your eyes stayed glued to him. The way he released himself to trail fingers up the underside of his cock, dropping lower to cup his balls before taking hold of his length once more to fuck his fist. His moans were choked back, clearly in an effort to keep you undisturbed, but they were beautiful nonetheless as they joined the sound of dry friction of his cock against his palm.

You tilted your head back, still comfortable on his torso, nestled into his stomach. You looked up at his face, his eyes almost closed, mouth open and panting. He looked back at you, and for a split second he looked scared, caught in the act. But when your lips parted, the ghost of a smile on your mouth as you blinked up at him, he slowed his hand, the unease fading.

“Y’want me t’stop, I will, darlin’,” his breathing was labored, his fist sinking down to the base of his cock, “Say th’word.”

“No,” your voice croaked with sleep, but the zeal was still present in your dismissal. “Keep going…show me.”

He sighed, resuming a steady pace. “Voyeuristic li’l thing, huh?”

“You started it.” You squeezed your thighs together, still sticky with the residue of your own self-pleasure session. “Wanna see how you do it.”

Cooper hummed, clenching his cock. “Y’gonna tell me ‘f’I do it wrong, same way I told you?”

“No. I’m gonna watch and learn,” you purred, letting your hand wander over his thigh, “So that I can do it right for you.”

“Christ, girl,” he groaned, hips stuttering into his hand, “Give a man a heart attack.”

“Mhm,” you smiled, skin heating up at the sound of his voice.

“Y’wanna take a turn?” He removed his hand once more, “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

Now your confidence faltered, unsure of where to go from here; did you know enough? Had the few moments you’d spent watching him fist his cock been enough to get it right? And was there even a right way to do it?

But this is what you wanted. Far from what you could’ve imagined in the darkness of your bedroom, this moment now was what you wanted; the whispers and dim light, tile floor sticking to the exposed skin of your back as your shirt rode up, stars fading into daylight in the sky—it didn’t matter that it wasn’t romantic by vault standards.

It was him.

“I—will you tell me how?” You whispered, “The way you did before?”

He chuckled, but it was drenched in lust. “Aw, what’s wrong, darlin’? Think those pretty hands won’be able to hold onto all o’that?” His cock bounced against his stomach, and you whimpered. “I’ll tell ya how I like it, baby, don’ you worry.”

The reassurance he offered, or perhaps more so the way he said it, made you squirm next to him; you rocked your hips against nothing, thighs pressed together tightly and begging the floor for some type of alleviation from the ache.

He watched you move, your futile attempt to get yourself off making his cock stand even more erect. He reached out, guiding one of your legs over his in a weak attempt to help you straddle his thigh. You nuzzled closer against him, bucking your hips and feeling the fabric of your pants bunch up over your legs.

“Now, gimme that hand,” he beckoned, and you lifted your hand to him. He took your wrist in his own hand, squeezing gently to encourage your fingers to relax open, and then licking a thick stripe up your palm. “Put it where’ya want.”

Saturated with his spit, you let your hand fall over his crotch, ghosting over his cock before taking the initiative to grasp onto the length. It was warm, throbbing and soft despite the taut pull of skin. You let out an inquisitive gasp, and Cooper had to dig his nails into the tile of the floor to keep from cumming the moment your hand made contact with him.

“Fuckin’ soft,” he groaned, “Sweet hands, darlin’. C’mon ‘n show me what’cha got.”

You stroked him leisurely, watching your hand run over every inch. You quickly learned to pay attention to the tip, and he bucked his hips into your fist when you moved your wrist over him just so.

“Tha’s’it—fuck me—jus’ like that, good fuckin’ lord,” he couldn’t stop running his mouth, unable to hide the pleasure he was getting out of your movements. “Sweet li’l girl knows her way ‘round a cock.”

You ground your hips into his thigh, not caring that the denim of the pants you wore dug awkwardly into your crotch. Giving him pleasure made you feel powerful, and made you equally as, if not more so, turned on as he was.

“Just doing what you tell me,” you squeezed him at the base of his cock before slowly moving your hand upwards until you got to his cockhead, turning your wrist and then repeating the motion.

“Y’like doin’ what I tell ya t'do, sweetheart?” He let his head drop to his shoulder, eyes shut and mouth open when he felt your thumb brush over his leaking tip.

“Yeah, Coop,” you liked seeing him this way—zero inhibitions and focused on you, trusting you with his body and letting you provide for him, for once. “Love it.”

“Fuck,” he groaned out, his hand coming up to grasp at your face, eyes opening to meet your gaze, “Say it again f’me, baby. Whole thing.”

“I love it, Cooper,” you mewled, leaning into his touch and moving your fist more rapidly over him now. “Love doing what you tell me to do.”

“Damn fuckin’ right, you do,” he growled, knitting his brow in appreciation of your ministrations, “Got you humpin’ me like a fuckin’ whore, one li’l taste of my cock ‘nd you’ll do anythin’ I fuckin’ say.”

“Yeah,” you whined, needy and unfamiliar with the want that you were experiencing. You couldn’t have denied it even if you had wanted to, eagerly grinding against him and letting his words push at your core. “Anything.”

“So work that fuckin’ hand ‘n make me cum, girl,” his jaw was clenched as he barked his words, body clamoring to focus on his immanent high. “Know y’got it in ya, sweetheart, lemme give y’what’cha want.”

“Want—wanna put my mouth on you,” you didn’t know why the thought occurred to you then, thinking back to things the older girls had spoken about doing in hushed voices at the back of classrooms, but you let it slip out into the jumble of moans already falling from your lips. You dug your face into his collar, “Please.”

“Won’t stop ya, sweetheart,” he had to clench his fist to keep himself from spilling into your hand; the image of you begging to blow him could've been enough to do him in completely.

You fell over yourself trying to get onto your hands and knees in front of him. There was a thrill in experiencing something of this nature without being shown how to do it first, and you were eager to please now; to show off for him and have him talk you through every flick of your tongue.

You lowered your face against his cock, feeling how the warmth of his skin seeped into your cheek, the sweet smell of sex flooding your senses. Your fingers traced over him, gentle and patient, as you sized him up and decided where to go from here.

You kitten-licked his cockhead, and he hissed, forcing a hot wisp of breath through his teeth.

“Tha’s it,” he was white-knuckling his thigh, trying to avoid looking directly at you for fear that he would cut the scene short. “Don’ be shy, now.”

You took his rasp in stride, taking the entirety of his tip into your mouth, tongue dancing circles around his length and savoring the bitterness of what leaked from him. He placed a hand on the back of your head, not adding any pressure, simply a gesture of goodwill, and what you could have.

“Mhm,” you moaned, mouth full of him. You reached for his hand and encouraged him to tangle his fingers in your hair. When he tugged at the roots, you whimpered, slipping down his length slowly, trying to hollow your cheeks and let all of him in.

“Fuckin’ desperate, ain’t’cha,” Cooper panted, fingers laced through your hair and moving along with you, “Mouth full’a my cock—y’enjoyin’ yourself, sweetheart? Workin’ at it, li’l slut that y’are?”

You groaned around him, pushing yourself further until you choked, pulling back to splutter as drool pooled over your lower lip and dripped down your chin. He wiped you off, rubbing your spit over his cock and fisting himself as he spoke.

“Y’wanna keep goin’?” He still had one hand in your hair, pulling you back to look at him while he drawled, “Gaggin’ and droolin’ like that, y’still want more?”

“Yes,” you heaved, lungs on fire and throat sore, but still so full of need for him, “Please, let me finish.”

That earned a sharp laugh, “Think ya mean let me finish,” he removed his hand from his cock, wiping the remaining spit on your cheek, slapping at your face softly. “Open wide, sweetheart, lemme fuck that pretty mouth o’yours.”

You did as you were told, breathing through your nose and letting him thrust deep down your throat. Despite it all, he remained gentle—by his standards, at least. Gaze focused on you and any tell-tale sign of discomfort, laser focused on the way tears sprung up on your lash line and how deep he had to go to make them fall over your cheeks; making you gag but not making you suffocate.

You felt like you were on cloud nine; his stare made you feel safe, a watchful gaze over you as you wrapped your lips around his thick shaft and let your tongue roam the veins on the underside of his cock. He was gentle enough, but not overly so—a perfect medium for your first experience of this kind.

“Y’gonna take it, baby?” He huffed, veins on his temples popping beneath scarred skin, “Take it in that hot fuckin’ mouth? Swallow my fuckin’ load, good girl that’cha’re?”

You let out a happy gasp, desperate to taste him, let him coat your throat with everything he had to offer you. You found one of your hands coming to cup his balls, tempted by the downy, pillowy skin and the way they moved in your palms.

When you gave them a squeeze, all bets were off for Cooper.

He held you by the scalp, roaring out his orgasm as he stuttered against your mouth.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he eased you off his cock, watching you lick your lips and gather any of his spend that escaped the confines of your mouth before you swallowed.

It was bitter, and it lingered. You coughed again, making a face.

“Tastes weird,” you complained, wiping the corners of your mouth with your thumb. You stayed between his legs, still happy to play with his softening length and lap up any cum you hadn’t gotten to on time.

“Were y’expectin’ lemonade?” He panted, groaning at the way you licked at his cock. He pulled you up, letting you settle back into the spot you’d been sleeping in earlier by his side. “Reminds me, though,” he shuffled, tucking himself back into his pants and rummaging through a deep pocket for something. “C’mere, darlin’.”

He uncapped a syringe of something, and you shuddered.

“Not until you tell me what that is…”

“RadAway,” he cocked a brow, “My swimmers look jus’ like me, sweetheart. Don’t want ya getting’ sick cause I couldn’t keep it in m’pants.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes in jest and offering him your arm.

“Good girl,” he punctured you with the needle, and you tried not to dwell on the way the penetration paralleled the way he’d pushed into your throat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, rubbing the spot where the needle had intruded and leaning against him.

“Should be thankin’ you,” he mused, throwing the syringe off into the dark somewhere. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth on you—when y’ain’t complainin’.”

“Just gonna have to fuck it next time I start talking too much,” you nudged him with your shoulder, getting comfortable as you readjusted into your spot.

He grunted in approval, snaking an arm around you.

“It’s my turn to keep watch,” you whispered, eyes droopy as the adrenaline you’d been running on began to crash.

“Go back t’sleep, y’irradiated li’l thing,” he smirked, “Don’t want’cha slowin’ us down tomorrow.”

~~~

You made a game out of avoiding the skeletonized remains of what once was while you walked through the waste. You tried to identify what bone you were looking at, who or what it might’ve belonged to.

The skulls were easy, it was the short bones that made the game difficult for you.

But it made the time pass faster, although you’d realized that over the course of the several weeks you’d been accompanying the Ghoul, time mattered less and less in the grand scheme of things. The sun rose and it set and then it rose again; you had nowhere to be and nothing to anchor you anywhere.

Not nothing, you shook the thought from your mind.

Cooper walked several steps ahead of you. He’d become more and more willing to let you out of his sight on the treks you undertook through the sand, though when the sky went dark, he still maintained vigil over you.

Maybe it was just that he didn’t care, but you liked to think it was a matter of trust and perhaps even confidence in your ability to survive.

He still walked beside you often, especially when you got chatty and he had full vials in his pockets.

That just made you think it was more so a matter of him trusting himself to stand by you.

Admittedly, you’d been quieter in the days since you’d left the abandoned mall. There was less effort put into small talk on both your part and his—and you knew it had mostly to do with your own racing thoughts, but you questioned his reasoning.

You hadn’t been able to bring it up. Any of it—from putting yourself on display to encouraging his own debauchery. You were unsure of whether or not it was even appropriate to talk about now that it was over.

Was it over?

He’d made no effort to mention it, either. Whether that meant he, too, was constantly mulling it over, or if he simply didn’t care, you couldn’t tell. You could never really tell with him. You just knew his gaze lingered more often, and that his hand wandered down the small of your back even when there was nowhere to guide you. It wasn’t unwelcome—not in the slightest; you basked in his attention, even when it meant being on the receiving end of off-color jokes about your survival skills or your time in the vaults. But you wanted him to be the one to acknowledge what had happened, to corner you with the reality and make you confront it head on.

Because if you brought it up, there would be no proof that he cared, too.

Not to mention, you liked seeing him take control in ways that didn’t involve killing anybody.

Cooper could hear you pause occasionally, muted footprints over the sand coming to a halt so that you could analyze another skeleton. He’d noticed your game, thought it was cute, even, that you’d managed to become some kind of expert in desert decay, but he stayed quiet out of the worry that him pointing it out would embarrass you.

That, and every time he spoke to you now, he could only imagine the drag of your hand down his cock, even after several days of trying to will away the mental image.

He swallowed dryly, spitting the sand from his mouth, and the cynicism with it.

Truth be told, he had no regrets; including becoming the face of the corporation that would end life on earth as he knew it; including shilling himself as some kind of glorified party clown; including keeping the hat he still wore after 200 years.

So it wasn’t regret that kept him from opening his mouth now, but a strong sense of trepidation.

He had gotten so used to brothel whores and quick back ally fucks, and he tried to tell himself the worry lied in the notion that he’d gone too far, too fast. You were new to the world in so many ways, new to pleasures of the flesh, and part of him felt as though he had taken something away from you despite the eager consent he’d received. While he certainly enjoyed defiling you, showing you the way around your pleasure and his own—and knew that you enjoyed it, too—he felt, in the back of his mind, that he certainly shouldn’t have liked it as much as he did.

But more than the anxiety that came with corrupting you (which, in actuality, he was more than somewhat proud of) the real dread centered around the power you had over him. That wasn’t new, he recognized; you had, for as long as you’d been with him, been able to get your way. He was a weak-willed old man, he probably knew that more than you did. But in this respect, with your new ability to reject him outright—to tell him what had happened would never happen again—he couldn’t bring himself to give you the opportunity, fearing that if he opened his mouth, you would shut him down.

He’d tasted the forbidden fruit, and to be cast out of Eden would be an experience that he would, in fact, come to regret, despite himself.

Cooper tried to hide the angst he felt at the scenario of his own creation as he walked onwards.

“S’a radius,” he called over his shoulder to you, still stooped on your knees to find the bone’s hidden mysteries. “Human one.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “Thought I finally found a deathclaw.”

“’Y'won't find a deathclaw, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “It'll find you. 'N them shits don’t die without a hell’f’a fight.” He stopped in his tracks to wait on you, watching as you trudged through the sand.

“The whole point of the game is that I have to figure it out by myself,” you huffed, the attitude in your voice only a half-conscious decision—you were bothered by his seeming lack of awareness around the tension that hung between the two of you, but you were also tired and hot. “Gotta start over now…”

“Could’a told me. Didn’ know there was rules to it,” he smirked, blissfully, or not, unaware that the turmoil in your mind paralleled his own, “Won’t ruin your fun no more, darlin’.”

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, purposefully kicking up dust in your wake. “You probably know more about skeletons than I do.” You conceded, trying to lose your edge and make friends again.

“Nah, don’t sell y’self short, there,” he tilted his head at you, the brim of his hat hiding his eyes momentarily before he poked it up with a gloved hand. “Y’self taught—real life Einstein.”

“Who?”

He cringed. “Not a lotta science classes down in th’vaults, huh?”

“We had science,” you defended your upbringing, not for the first time, and likely not for the last.

“He was a scientist,” Cooper sighed, “Told Roosevelt to build th’bombs. Smart guy.” He looked around aimlessly, “Not a lot o’foresight.”

“The bombs?” You cringed, not enjoying the comparison he’d made between you and someone who might’ve been behind the landscape you looked at now.

“No,” he shook his head, “Earlier’n that.” He fished a vial from his pocket, taking a sip of the contents. “Gotta get ya’a history lesson.”

“I’ll be fine with you teaching me everything,” you scoffed, “Fast learner, remember?” The words jumped off your tongue faster than you could swallow them, and you shifted uncomfortably, waiting for a response.

Cooper just laughed, hoping you couldn’t hear his nerves. “That y’are, sweetheart.”

He started walking again, and you followed suit, kicking yourself for your slip-up and promising yourself that you wouldn’t bring it up again unless he did.

“How do you know so much about bones?” You tried to bring the initial conversation back to its roots.

“Broken a lot of ‘em. Guess I jus’ know a lot about death.”

“But not dying…”

“Never that.” He cracked the knuckles on one of his hands, and you felt curiosity gnawing at you.

“Cooper,” you started, easing into the subject, and giving yourself time to flake out of it, “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” He grunted.

“Old enough…?”

“To be your granddaddy three times over,” he didn’t do the math, just ballparking it.

“Old enough to remember—”

“Yes.” He cut you off, “Not that I like t’dwell on it.”

“Yeah,” you offered a curt nod, immediately regretting trying to bring it up, “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he breathed, “Jus’ not what I’d call a fun memory.”

“Mm,” you pursed your lips.

There was a straight minute of silence before he filled the gap.

“Had a dog,” he mused, suddenly smiling again.

“Really?” The idea of the man next to you caring for a living creature without getting anything in return made you want to laugh—then again, he was taking care of you, wasn’t he?

And you hadn’t been bait in days.

“Really,” he nodded, “Good dog, sweet thing. He followed me everywhere.”

“Like me?” You laughed.

“No,” he turned to you with a wicked grin, “Dog listened.”

“I could probably shake hands if you asked me to,” you shot back with a smile, and he barked a laugh. “Dogs aren’t allowed in the vaults—no pets. No animals.”

“Damn shame…” His response was flat, like he was trying to ignore your words without sounding rude.

God, he missed that dog.

When the thrill of the conversation wore off, you walked along in silence again. The tension was still present, but there was comfort alongside it. But something nipped at your heels, lingering in the back of your mind.

Cooper cracked the knuckles of his other hand.

“How much longer?” You asked, staring straight ahead.

“What?” He eyed you in his peripheral.

“How much longer will you know about death but not about dying?” You looked at your feet, watching the sand make room for every step beneath you.

He stopped walking, sucking his teeth. “You still worried ‘bout what’cha saw back there?” His voice was empty of any emotion, but his face read as concerned.

“I—not so much the ferals but the, uh…” Out of nowhere, there were tears in your eyes, “Don’t really know what I’d do without you.” It was the closest thing to admitting your reliance on him that you’d uttered in all your time together.

“Sweetheart,” he cupped your elbow in his hand, and the subtle display of affection made the tears roll down your cheeks faster. “Y’ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it.” Whether you recognized it or not, he was swearing his allegiance. “’M in it for the long run—til ya get sick of me.” He smirked, still so uncertain of what to do when you got like this that he ran to humor first, “Specially cause I dunno what you’d do without me, either.”

You laughed through quiet sobs, and when he swept you against his chest into what might’ve been meant as a hug, the tears ceased. You felt his hand on your back, thumb rubbing over your shirt.

“You’d be so bored without me.” You sniffled, trying to match his witticisms.

“Yeah,” he tilted his head down to look at you, “Prob’ly right.” He kept you near him even after you’d stopped crying, enjoying the way you moved against his chest with every shaky breath you took. He fished a vial from his pocket with the hand that wasn’t cradling you, “Told ya, ‘s’long as we got these, we’re fine.” He didn’t know why he was saying ‘we’ as opposed to ‘I,’ a subconscious decision that had him projecting you into every aspect of his life—he wasn’t mad about it. And neither were you.

You dragged your cheek along his chest as you craned your neck to look at the vial.

“Cooper,” you whispered.

“Mhm?”

“That vial’s almost empty.”

“Well,” he huffed, “Was hopin’ y’wouldn’t notice that.”

“Einstein.” You mumbled against him as he popped the vial back into his pocket. “Can we get more?”

“S’where we’re goin’,” he informed you, and you peeled yourself off of him to the reluctance of both of you.

You walked side by side, knocking shoulders in silence.

~~~

“C’mon, few more steps—be a big girl ‘bout it,” you had fallen behind him, dragging your feet and letting your shoulders droop in the heat, and Cooper delighted in your obvious fatigue. “Don’t drop dead on me.”

“Free meal for you,” you tried to scoff but it quickly morphed into a yawn. Your skin was tight with sunburn and you felt exhaustion in the deepest recesses of your bones, but you were still awake enough to match his energy to a degree.

“Wouldn’ eat ya, darlin’,” he smirked, and it wasn’t a lie; he didn’t at all want to eat you, at least not in the manner you had implied. “Too sweet.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, “probably just taxidermy me, carry me around so you don’t get lonely.”

“Now, that is exactly what I had in mind,” he whistled, “How’d ya know?”

He coughed, stooping over with hands on his knees and blinking rapidly a few times to collect himself.

“Are we close?” You quickly grew tired of teasing him, acutely aware of how the muscles in your thighs tensed with each step, and how quickly he would deteriorate if he stayed without whatever was in those vials any longer.

“Close t’what, sweetheart?” He smiled, still happy to poke fun at you despite your disinterest.

“Wherever—vials…anywhere.” You yawned again.

“How is it’at someone who sleeps so goddamn much can’t stay awake more’an a few hours at a time?” He watched your mouth as you stifled another tired sigh.

“How is it that someone with no nose still manages to be so nosy?” You snapped back, smiling at the way his eyes widened.

“Woo. Down, girl,” he tsked, curling his lip. “I got a place in mind, ‘f’you would just hurry it up.”

You grumbled at him, picking up your pace to meet his stride. The setting sun offered respite to your weary bones, soft breeze pushing against the sweaty skin of your back. The Ghoul whistled, tuneless but beautiful, and with every few steps you let your eyes close for just a second.

You momentarily forgot about how tired you were, pleased to simply be in his presence.

“There ya go,” he pointed a gloved hand towards the horizon, and you followed it to see a building that looked to be more sand than structure.

“There’s stuff in there?”

“Stuff everywhere,” he took on a mocking tone, hearing the dismay in your voice that you’d failed to hide. “Don’t’cha trust me, sweetheart?” He smiled, and your gaze bounced from his lips to his eyes.

“I do,” you admitted aloud for the first time, and you saw a flash of something in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but you continued; “Just seems a little…sad…”

“It ‘n’everything else up here,” he sighed. “C’mon.”

You shuffled along with him, and the building became clearer as you approached.

It wasn’t a house; you could tell that much. There were no visible signs that it had been used as a living space for at least a few decades. Broken glass and lack of amenities aside, you could see rows of shelves and what looked like a counter, and you recognized it as—or what had once been—a pharmacy.

You tripped over the piles of sand that had blown into the entrance, grabbing the outer brick wall to steady yourself. Cooper came up behind you, steady on his feet despite the terrain.

“Ye olde apothecary,” He sniffed, spitting in the sand, “Y’believe me now?” He walked past you, raising his arms as if to expect a welcome from the empty store.

“Never said I didn’t,” you leaned against the empty doorframe as you watched him strut through the aisles. You raised a brow, “Where’s your medicine, Coop?”

He waved you off, shooing you with a hand thrown over his shoulder as he walked towards the counter in the back. He was moving slower, as if to downplay any pain he felt, to rest his surely weary bones. You sighed, following him.

“Stashed some shit in here, few months ago—carryin’ too much,” he jumped over the counter, trying to hide the way he winced when his feet hit the floor.

“How do you know nobody took it while you were gone?” You challenged.

“Ain’t nobody gonna be dumb enough to steal my shit.” He grumbled.

“How would they know it was yours?”

He ignored you as he shucked his duster and ammo belt, tossing them to the ground. He sighed in relief, the extra pounds of fabric and metal no longer a hindrance to him in his weakened state. He began to rummage through moldy cardboard boxes, “It’ll be here. Had to dump it somewhere I knew. Didn’t trust myself t’savor it.”

“Tastes that good, huh?” You smiled, maneuvering yourself over the counter to meet him.

“Y’got no idea, darlin’,” he shook his head, elbow deep in a box. He grunted, yanking at something deep, before hauling out a smaller, metal box from the cardboard. “There y’are.” He kissed the tin, and you rolled your eyes.

You let yourself wander a bit further past him, delving into the boxes that were stacked up where you could reach them.

“Got anything else hidden away in here?” You mused, cringing when your hand made contact with something slimy in one of the boxes. You wiped your palm down your jeans.

“Maybe…” He thought, still fiddling with the tin in his hands, “Guns, ammo somewhere, probably.”

You moved on to another box and found a pistol packaged away in a rag. You swiped it, trying to push it into your belt loops as a makeshift holster.

“Y’ain’t need one.” He knew what you were doing without even looking your way, still wary of letting you carry a weapon after the feral debacle. “Y’get too in your head.”

“You could teach me how to shoot properly.” You turned to him, offering a shy shrug. “Please?”

“Y’really know how’ta make a man swoon, sweetheart.” He had resorted to banging the top of the tin against the table, unable to find the latch to open it. “Christ—c’mere with’ose pretty li’l fingers ‘f’yers.” He held the case out to you.

You shoved the gun into the depths of your back pocket, walking over and taking the tin. You did what you could, fiddling with the rusty lid and praying that whatever liquid was in the vials inside didn’t begin to seep through as a sign of broken glass. You leveraged your nails beneath the rim of the top and used any remaining strength you had left in you to tug hard.

“I almost got it,” you felt pride, happy to be able to provide for him, and you looked up expectantly.

He wasn’t looking back at you.

He was turned away from you slightly, his head up and eyes darting over the front of the store. He stretched one finger out in front as a signal, telling you to pause, but you continued anyway; separating the halves of the tin with a pop that seemed to echo through the derelict building.

When you heard the bang of the front door swinging open behind you, and the crack of glass beneath boots, you shuddered. He brought his finger to his lips, shushing you. You scrambled to grab the vials in the tin, shoving them into your pocket and hoping they wouldn’t break before you could leave.

You shook your head, trying to apologize, trying to ask him to conceal himself, to fight quick and wordlessly, without his usual flair—not like this, not in his worsening condition. But the wick had been lit; the ferocity in his eyes burned bright, and you knew it was only a matter of time until the powder keg exploded.

You remembered, too late, that his belt was across the room, and with it, his gun.

Someone whistled. Someone else laughed. And you felt utterly helpless—a deer in headlights, with no chance of making it to the other side of the road on time.

“Well,” a man’s voice. “Lookit that. Boys, it appears we’ve found the holy grail.”

You turned, slowly. The Ghoul sucked his teeth.

“Nice t’see ya alive, Jed.” Cooper offered a sardonic greeting. You couldn’t see his face, your back now to him, but you knew he was smiling.

“And well!” Jed laughed.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Cooper scoffed.

“Always so hospitable,” Jed shook his head, finding his way around the counter with his backup close behind. “Ain’t ya gonna introduce me to your friend, here?” He came close to you, near enough for you to see the dry skin on the tip of his nose and the frayed, twisted ends of his beard. He knocked the open tin from your hands, and it clattered to the ground. Thank god you’d emptied it.

“She’s gotta voice,” Cooper ticked his jaw, “Why don’t y’ask her yourself? Or has it been that long since you’ve gotten a good look at a woman?”

Jed backed off, focusing on Cooper now, and you closed your eyes as if deep in thought or prayer; there was no back exit, not even a hole worn into the wall that you could climb through. The cronies Jed had with him maintained their gaze on you, and you swallowed.

“What’s that now?” Jed leaned in towards Cooper, who remained amused by the situation despite everything.

“I’m sorry, I—I was just wonderin’ ‘f’you’re still as big a pussy now as y’were when I last saw ya.” Cooper tipped his hat to the younger man.

Jed smiled, laughing along with Cooper, before suddenly going deadpan and punching him in the gut. Cooper doubled over, cursing, and you sucked in a sharp breath upon hearing the commotion.

“Now, look,” Jed straightened, “You’ve upset the lady.”

“She’ll live,” Cooper groaned, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You so sure?” Jed countered.

“What is’t ya want, Jed?” Cooper took a long breath, trying to shut down whatever it was that crossed Jed’s mind in that moment, forcing his attention from you. “Or did y’just drop in t’say hi?”

You turned to watch now. Jed’s face went from one of amusement to ire; his mouth dropped with his brow, creasing his face and making him speak with a sneer.

“I want,” he crossed his arms, “to ask you about your trip down to Filly.”

Cooper sighed, and you watched him drop his head as he spoke, hiding his face with his hat. “You wanna ask me ‘bout that brother o’yours.”

“That’s right.” Jed looked red in the face, “I wanna ask you why you think you can play god, Ghoul.” He took his gun from its holster, turning off the safety as he continued his tirade. “I wanna know what the fuck gives you the right to kill any son’bitch that gets between you an’ some caps.” He breathed heavily, mixing his grief with a stronger sense of brutality.

Cooper looked back up, and for a moment he looked almost remorseful—sorry to see a man so torn up about the loss of kin. But the tinge of sympathy didn’t last long.

“He died like a bitch, Jed.” He grinned.

Jed looked ill, like he was unsure of himself, on the verge of tears or vomit. But he pulled the trigger, anyway.

Two shots sounded, and you flinched at each one.

“Well, there—maybe you do have some charm,” Cooper shook his head, still standing, swatting at the holes in his pants where Jed had shot him—once in both legs, “Sure are makin’ me weak in the knees.” You sighed, relieved, but not out of the woods; his tone remained suave, but his voice was cracked at the edges. His jaw was clenched tight, like he was biting back the pain you hoped he couldn’t feel, and you desperately wanted this situation to be put to an end so that you could force the liquid in the vials down his throat yourself.

Jed said nothing, swallowing thickly and turning to his companions. “Don’t kill him—get him tender for me.”

“What about her?” One of the two other men nodded towards you, and you stared back at him.

“Leave her.” The three men turned to Cooper, and you continued your silent surveillance. He looked pale, if that was possible; a greyish tint on what would otherwise be an angry pink.

Jed let out a slow whistle. “I think I found your Achilles heel, friend.” He moved in on you, poking his gun into your back and forcing you to move directly in front of Cooper. His backup approached the Ghoul, and you shuddered in ugly anticipation.

“She’s got nothin’ you want, boy,” the threat came out more pleading than he’d meant, but Cooper stuck to his guns, “Leave her be.”

Jed sneered, and you looked at your feet. “Make sure he can see her while you beat him—‘nd go slow. Wanna make sure we all get a show out of it.”

With his gun still pressed to you, Jed signaled for his friends to take action. You’d never felt more insignificant; in the vaults you had your dreams, in the wastes you had the stars, but now, watching Cooper allow these men to land blow after blow with the intention of maintaining your safety, you felt utterly hopeless.

And though he kept his head up, snarking occasionally when he had enough breath to fuel him, Cooper looked bad; you didn’t think he could bruise, but in the low light of the shop he looked discolored and hurt. You tried to search his face, for a sign or a signal, but he avoided your gaze.

You found yourself wishing you could see another day of empty desert and inherent danger, as long as it was with him—only if it was with Cooper.

Jed moved to push his gun hard against your face, and you wondered if this meant it would be the last time you’d have a pistol aimed at you. You wondered what you could do if you had an opportunity, if you weren’t so defenseless.

The gun.

You felt the cold metal through the thin denim of your jeans, heartrate skyrocketing when you realized the implications of the weight in your pocket.

You’d never shot a gun. Even when he let you carry around that old, beat-up piece, you’d never gotten the opportunity to fire it. But you’d watched Cooper do it hundreds, probably thousands of times.

He flicked the safety, he aimed, he fired.

You could do that. You prayed to anybody that you could do that in this moment, if never hereafter.

With the focus of the hired muscle already on Cooper, you waited for Jed to let his gaze wander; his eyes, emotionless rocks stuck into his skull, leered at you in a manner that made your blood run cold.

But then he turned his head, watching his companions batter the already worse-for-wear Ghoul. You fished the pistol from your pockets, trying to move quickly.

“Think after this we should have ourselves a li’l party, boys. Nice piece of ass like this, shame for it to go to waste before we—”

A shot, loud and tooth-rattling, engulfed you as you pulled the trigger. Jed fell down, dead.

Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was shaking. Your ears were ringing and your head felt cloudy—with fear or rage, you didn’t bother to define it.

“Get out,” you cleared your throat, now pointing the pistol at the two men who loomed over the Ghoul. Despite your trembling, the men seemed uncertain, lost without their leader and unwilling to find out if you were bluffing. “Get out!” You doubled down, encouraging them to lose their nerve. You watched as they backed away, hands raised in surrender, scooting around the counter and quickly running out the door.

You gasped for air, feeling faint and almost buzzed, before shoving the gun onto a shelf and moving to fold yourself over Cooper.

He was lying flat on the floor, a bit dazed, but not bloodied—you shoved aside the curiosity that popped up in your head, begging the question if he even had blood. His hat had been knocked off and now lay several feet from him. He was smirking at you like he had not a care in the world.

“Look at you,” he coughed, ragged and chesty, and you fished a vial from your pocket. “My little killer.”

“Shut up, Cooper,” you bit the cap off the vial you’d grabbed and spit it out to the side, forcing his head up and pouring the contents down his throat. He coughed at first, before giving in to your control and swallowing the chem. He wheezed when you’d poured all the vial’s contents out, grabbing your arm and squeezing gently.

“Jesus Christ,” he shook his head, collecting himself, “You’re a goddamn angel, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed in relief, letting your head rest on the linoleum next to his. You stayed like that, sprawled out with your body pressed to him, watching the life come back to his eyes. You let him adjust in the quiet, waiting for the right time to discuss what you considered the highlight of what you’d just endured.

“Leave her be?” You put on a less than stellar impression of him.

“Didn’want that filth touchin’ ya.” He muttered, stretching and unconcerned.

“You don’t seem to have a problem when it’s your filthy hands.” You pointed out, somehow feeling that now was the most appropriate time to bring up what had happened between you days ago. In light of recent events, you didn’t care anymore if you were the one that brought it up.

“Exactly,” He turned his face to look at you, “My filthy hands.” He rested his palm on your stomach, “Mine.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow and stared, taking him in; his color was back, the proper pink, sun kissed flush you’d come to appreciate, and his eyes were still in their sockets; his voice was less raspy, at least compared to how it had been while he was getting the shit kicked out of him, and he was forming real words.

His stupid, shit-eating grin was once again plastered on his lips.

He was ok. He was still Cooper—beautiful, wild, stupidly stubborn Cooper. And you realized that you were still shaking, pent up adrenaline trying to find its way out of your system, squeezing at your heart and clouding your brain.

So you kissed him. You grabbed him by the face and pulled him up to you, crashing your lips to his in a frenzied, out of body manner that left you both panting. You clawed at the back of his collar, fingers dancing over his shoulders and down his chest, and still you wanted more.

You pulled away to take a breath, and Cooper licked his lips, chest heaving.

“Think you should kill more people.” He smiled, running a hand over his head.

“Only if you don’t face the brink of death in the process,” you smiled back, a healthy whirl running through you.

It was comfortable—you were comfortable; by his side and safe again, itching for his attention and knowing it was you and only you who would get it. This is exactly what you’d always wanted.

It was exactly what you wanted.

“Cooper,” you sat up, placing a hand on his chest and fanning your fingers out to grab loosely at the fabric of his shirt, “Show me more.”

He cocked a brow at you, unsure of what you were asking. “Show y’what?”

“Like how you did when you showed me how to curl my fingers,” you shuffled closer to him, hand trailing further down his stomach, “And when you showed me how to use my mouth—I want more, please, I want…” You whined a little, biting your lip so you wouldn’t lose your nerve, “Fuck me.”

He stared up at you, your hand dangerously close to his fly and your eyes looking as pleading as your voice sounded.

You were so beautiful, so genuine and virtuous. And he was already destined for a hell, if there was one.

He grabbed you by the waist, hauling you over him and kissing you again. Your chest pressed against his, legs moving to straddle him and squeeze his waist as he tugged you impossibly close. His hands drifted over the curve of your ass, squeezing so hard he thought he might tear through the denim of your jeans.

He tried to go slower, savor the taste of your tongue and the feel of your body on his, but he gave up the moment you began to grind your hips on top of him.

“Bloodthirsty thing,” he muttered against your lips, “All wound up, huh, sweetheart? One bullet out the chamber ‘nd you need me to fuck it better?”

You let out a whine, and he dragged his tongue against your throat, licking up your neck until he reached your jaw. It gave you enough time to think about his words.

“Wait—Cooper,” you pushed off of him and held him by the collar.

He removed his hands from you, resting them on the floor on either side of his head. “What’s wrong?” He swallowed, trying to subdue the ache and the nerves that flickered through him, “What’cha thinkin’, sweetheart?”

“Dead body,” you hooked a thumb over your shoulder, pointing at the blood-soaked spot where Jed still lay dead.

“Not doin’ it for ya?” The Ghoul smirked, and you frowned down at him.

“Not exactly how I imagined it.”

“Y’want me to get rid of it?” Cooper lifted his head to sneer at the deceased man on the floor. You nodded. “Then I gotta get up, darlin’,” he bit his tongue, taking on a playful tone.

You sighed, weighing your options, before relenting and easing off of him slowly.

He got up with a groan, tilting his head to crack his neck as he walked. He moved to grab his hat and place it back on his head before making his way over to the corpse on the floor. You tried not to pay too much attention to the way Jed’s body lolled around as if boneless when Cooper lifted him and threw him over his shoulder.

“Coop,” you called after him, waiting for him to turn back to you, “Don’t eat him.”

“Got another item on th’menu I’m more interested in samplin’, sweetheart,” he shook his head, walking out. “Smartass.”

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself when he left, hauling the body off somewhere out in the sand. Should you pose? Strip? Both?

You stood, unzipping your pants and letting them pool around your ankles, kicking them off into the corner with the least blood.

“This your way o’tellin’ me I wasn’t goin’ fast enough?” Cooper spoke, leaning against the counter as his eyes trailed up your naked legs. You hadn’t heard him come back in—maybe that was his goal. “Had t’start without me?”

You smiled impishly, biting your lip and peeling off your shirt, throwing it over into the corner where it joined your pants in a heap.

You stood bare and felt as though you must have looked awkward and uncertain, but Cooper clearly felt otherwise as he hopped over the counter again and took hurried steps over to you. You took a step back for every one he took forward, hands clasped behind your back and a mischievous grin on your lips.

Your back hit a wall, cornered, and Cooper drank you in.

“You try’na tease me, baby?” He stuck his tongue out to wet his lower lip before sucking his teeth, his hand coming up to your chin and beckoning your gaze upward to meet his. “Cause it’s workin’.”

“…You’ve got blood on your shirt.” You purred, pressing a finger into a dark spot on the fabric.

Cooper, rather ceremoniously, took off his hat, holding it to his chest. “It ain’t mine…” He let the hat fall from his hands, and you watched it wobble through the air before landing quietly on the floor. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a faint smile, “I can…take it off ‘nd prove it to ya.”

You nodded eagerly, putting any remaining shame to bed and embracing the urgency of your desires.

He bit the forefinger of his glove, peeling the leather from his hand before tugging off the opposite glove. His fingers were thick, though boney, and looked calloused; strong from decades of roughing it and pulling triggers. You watched them, entranced, as his hands flew to his collar and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Now don’ get all yucked-out,” Cooper mumbled, shucking the shirt off his arms and letting it drop to the floor, “Ain’t what I used to be under these rags.”

You couldn’t do much but stare. His torso looked like the rest of him; angry red and riddled with crossing scars. He was lean, but there was still muscle pushing against the damaged skin of his chest and arms.

You reached out to touch him, and delighted in the fact that he didn’t flinch now or try to grab your wrist. You dragged your knuckles down his front, back and forth over his skin before reaching back up to let your palm rest on his chest.

“I like you the way you are…” You said it like an oath, a promise to him, echoing the sentiment you’d shared after being confronted by the ferals and meaning it now more than ever.

“Don’t go soft on me, sweetheart,” he feigned distaste, but he couldn’t hide the way his body relaxed into your touch, the warmth of your palm becoming some sort of beacon that coaxed him in.

“Thought you’d like me soft…malleable,” you smiled, “I remember you enjoying being able to, uh—to guide me through the motions.”

Cooper bit his tongue, stifling the rumble that began in his chest before it could make its way past his lips. He wanted to eat you whole; lick your skin down to the bone and savor every part of you, hoping he’d be lucky enough to hear you sing his praises. But even he knew there was a line, and he’d never forgive himself if he fucked this up.

He took your hand from his chest, rubbing your palm with his thumb. He was closer now, looming above you with a predatory glint in his eyes, and you found yourself content to be his prey.

“Wanna do things t’ya, darlin’,” he stopped holding his tongue, “Give y’the whole goddamn experience that you deserve.” His thumb stopped moving, and he squeezed your hand. “Y’still trust me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I trust you.”

“’M gonna go as slow ‘s’ya need me to,” he swallowed, “Gonna make sure y’fuckin’ listen, just like last time—liked taking orders, ain’t that right?” He let go of your hand, reaching up to cup your jaw.

“I like it.” Your eyes fluttered, his fingers dug gently into your skin.

“Atta girl,” his hand trailed down over your collar bone, sweeping his fingers over it once before dropping it further to cup one of your breasts. You shivered, his palm engulfing you so easily, squeezing gently before drawing his hand back to squeeze your nipple between his knuckles.

“Dreamed about these tits,” he mused, watching your back start to arch when he tugged just right. His other hand came up to match the pace of his kneading on your other breast. “So fuckin’ soft,” he bent forward, squeezing your breasts together to smother himself in the cavern between them, licking at your sternum.

He came back up to kiss you, and you craned your neck, desperate to greet him with your mouth using the same urgency you felt bubbling in your abdomen. His tongue pushed through your lips, and you moaned, leaving him the space to pull back and bite at your bottom lip.

“More,” your head tilted back when he returned to your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and trapping it with his lips and teeth. His tongue flicked over the pebbled flesh while his hand doted on your other breast, and a flood of arousal dripped between your thighs. “Please, Cooper.”

“I told ya, ‘m takin’ my sweet time,” he spoke into the plush skin of your chest, sucking deep purple marks into you. “Woman like you needs t’be approached with care.” He was smiling, you could feel the curl of his lips against your chest as he continued his teasing ministrations.

“Approach me with care faster,” you whined, thighs beginning to squirm together as the familiar heat began to rise in your stomach.

Cooper released his hold on you, straightening up. One of his hands found purchase on the back of your neck, grabbing at your hair and pulling so that you were forced to look up at him; his other arm circled your waist, pulling you towards him so that you could feel the heat of skin-on-skin.

“You’re fuckin’ greedy,” he growled, taking pleasure in the way your breasts pressed firm against his own body, “Here I thought I was helpin’ get you ready f’me, but I don’t think you care.” He kissed your nose, and you whimpered. “Jus’ don’wanna break ya, s’all.”

“I’d be happy to let you break me.” You were serious; you knew what he was capable of, now and in any event, and you knew there were plenty of things you didn’t know much about—some you didn’t know about at all—but in his hands, you knew you were safe.

Even if it meant being broken. You had no doubt that he’d put you back together.

“Y’don’ know what’cher sayin’…” His hand dropped to squeeze your ass.

“S—aid you’d teach me,” you gasped through your words, blindsided by his touch, “Didn’t you?”

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, stepping back and kneeling in front of you, “I am goin’ to thoroughly enjoy showin’ you the ropes.” His words put the image of you tied up and begging for him in his mind’s eye, but he would save it for another time.

His hands caressed your sides, kneading your hips. He placed kisses down your stomach and the top of your thighs before glancing back up at you.

“Put’cher leg up, baby,” he was on his knees, hand gripping your calf and encouraging you to hook your knee over his shoulder. You did what you were told, your core pulsing when you felt his breath fan your bare cunt. “’Bout time I returned th’favor. Had that sweet li’l mouth on me, wanna taste ya from the source.”

You whined, eyes fixed on him when he brought two fingers to your core and slid them through your folds, collecting the slick that threatened to drench your thighs. He brought his hand up to his mouth, sucking on the digits he’d coated with your wet and humming.

“Like candy, sweetheart,” he placed his hands on your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he drew you in closer and let his face hover just centimeters from where you both wanted him to be. He inhaled, chasing your scent. “Goddamn precious thing.”

You didn’t have time to come up with a reply, instantly met with the sensation of his tongue lapping between your folds before he had even finished his sentence. He licked straight through your slit, letting his tongue dart over your hole and circling it with care before plunging it into you.

You felt hot, unsure of what to do with your hands as the stimulation sent jolts of pleasure through your body, coupled with the vibrations of Cooper’s groans as he buried his face against you. You grabbed at his free shoulder to steady yourself, fingers straying to cup his face and feel the way he hollowed his cheeks while he fucked his tongue into you, guzzling the slick that drenched your thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” he trailed his lips over your thigh, catching his breath, “Look at what y’did, darlin’—makin’ a fuckin’ mess o’me.” He licked his lips, humming as the tang touched his tongue again.

“Feels so good,” you were slack-jawed, staring down at him with saucer eyes.

“Can you believe there are fellas out there who don’ wanna taste their ladies?” Cooper mused, swiping his fingers through you again before positioning them over your clit and applying just enough pressure so the sensation made you bend at the knees. “Goddamn travesty—think I could stay here forever…” He watched you squirm under his fingers, rolling your hips against his hand.

“I’d—I’d let you,” you managed to moan out, trembling.

“Yeah?” He grinned, “Y’want me fuckin’ you with my tongue all day, sweet thing? Y’wanna drown me with this fuckin’ cunt?”

“Cooper—” You felt dizzy, the haze of lust completely cloaking your mind.

“Could y’handle it, sweetheart? All this mess b’tween your pretty fuckin’ thighs—givin’ it to me like the li’l slut I know y’are? Bet ya’d ask for more. Y’always want more, ain’t that right?”

“Yh—ess,” you whined, breath shallow as you neared your high, letting his words wind up the spring in your core.

He’d never felt more triumphant in his life; for someone who had stared death in the face for decades upon decades, it was only now that he felt prepared for it. Covered in your pleasure and listening to your cries, he knew he could die a happy man—but only if he could see you through to your high.

“I’ll give ya more, darlin’,” he bit into your thigh, and you yelped, head falling back, hips pushing against the fingers he still had on your clit. “Always give ya more.”

You felt his fingers leave you, easing further back and pushing against your entrance. You moaned out a plea, something half-assembled and whiny, to make him hurry up. You bit your lip, gasping, when his two fingers pushed into you: thick and deep and immediately locating the spot he’d shown you all those nights ago.

“Fuck—” You cried out, the pads of his fingers punching up into you deliciously.

“Bigger’an yours, huh?” He laughed, unable to tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallowed his digits, “Y’feel’at stretch again, sweetheart? Pretty cunt nice ‘n’full o’me?”

“It’s s—it’s so good,” you shook your head, lost in overwhelming pleasure. You started bouncing your hips, riding his hand; the slick sounds and the way he moaned out at the sight only served to spur you on further as you hurtled closer to your orgasm.

“Pretty whore, that’s it. Ride these fuckin’ fingers, girl. Wanna see that pretty face y’make when you cum for me.” He was growling, face twisted into a wolfish sneer as he pushed his fingers deeper into you, watching your face contort as your body made space for his intrusion.

When his lips wrapped around your clit, working in tandem with his fingers, your vision went white. Even with your eyes closed, there was still a trace of light, a halo under your eyelids as your body went slack for him and your thighs trembled through the burn of staying in one position for so long.

“Got a tight fuckin’ cunt—squeezin’ me so nice when you cum, baby.” He licked the juices that leaked over the fingers still buried deep inside you, flicking his tongue over your clit and watching your body jolt at the overstimulation.

“Oh my god,�� you leaned against the wall behind you, panting. “Cooper—fuck, too much.” You whimpered, reaching for his wrist and pulling him up to you. He leaned into you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“’M sorry, sweetheart,” his words were muted, spoken into your skin between kisses that were likely to leave marks. “So pretty when y’shake like that.”

“No, it’s—it was the good kind of too much.” You giggled, breathy and coquettish, at the way his lips felt on your neck.

“S’at right?” He groaned into you, and your hands came to rest low on his back, just above his waistband.

“Think you knew that…” You mewled, hands looping around to his front to tug on his belt.

“Well, maybe,” he moved to rest his arm against the wall, caging you next to his forearm, “Certainly think I know one thing.”

“Yeah?” You nearly had the buckle on his belt loosened enough to pull it off of him completely. “What’s that, Coop?”

“Think I know you’re a grabby, impatient li’l thing,” he grabbed you by the elbow, halting your attempt to remove his belt. “Think you were serious ‘bout lettin’ me break you, seein’ how those hands keep wanderin’ without permission.”

“Wanna touch you.” You whined, desperate to see if his threats would become promises.

“Touched me plenty,” he laughed, not caving to your pleas, “Don’t’cha wanna feel me in that pretty cunt?” He cupped your still dripping sex, “I know she does.” He pressed the heel of his palm into your clit. “See how far I can push ya?”

His fingers threatened your entrance again and you swooned, rocking your hips forward. Before you could get any satisfaction from his hand, he brought it back up, fingers beckoning your lips open. You licked at his fingers before resting them on your tongue to suck; he tasted like the ash of gun smoke and the tang of your cum, and you whimpered into him.

You released his fingers from your mouth with a quiet pop, and squeezed his hand, admiring the rough skin and the dark eyes in front of you.

“Get on the counter—‘nd spread those legs.” He pulled you towards him by the hand, easing you forward and encouraging you to make the journey to the counter on your own.

“Don’t wanna fuck me up against the wall?” You purred, more so anxious about how you’d look on your back than disappointed that he didn’t fuck you where you stood.

“We’ll get there.” He drank you in as you walked away, eyes darting over your body, unsure of which part of you he enjoyed looking at most. “Wanna get you comfortable.”

You hopped up on the counter, spreading your legs and chancing a look between your thighs. You were soaked, even beyond how you looked after touching yourself for him; the mixture of the two of you, your cum and his spit, that sat sticky on your thighs and over your folds made you squeeze around nothing, and you dipped a hand down to explore your already wrecked cunt.

“Wanderin’ hands…” The Ghoul remained in the spot you’d left him in, hand on his belt buckle as he eyed you.

“Well…” You smiled sheepishly, keeping your fingers perched delicately over your clit, “Come do something about it.”

His jaw clenched, and as he walked over to you with long strides, he undid his belt, unzipping his fly. He didn’t bother ridding himself of his pants—not only was he in too much of a hurry to care, but part of him felt a buzz at the notion that he’d be able to smell you on the fabric for the next few days to come.

“Y’wanna touch so fuckin’ bad?” He pulled his cock out, and you watched, wide-eyed, as he stroked himself. “Go’head, sweetheart—just like y’did last time.”

In the light of day, without the hindrance of sleep in your eyes, and with more illumination than just the dim assistance of a dying fire, you were able to properly appreciate him; long and thick, his tip angry and purple, marred with veins rather than the scars that littered the rest of him.

“Is it a side effect of radiation or are you just lucky?” You smiled nervously, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock.

“Stroke my cock, girl, not my ego,” he laughed, his amusement cut short when you swiped your thumb over his tip. “Christ, ‘at’s it.”

“I remember what to do.”

“Not about rememberin’. Slut like you, was probably hardwired into your system. Pretty fuckin’ thing.”

You took more initiative now, caging him between your legs and urging him closer to you; you moved your hand to the topside of his cock, pressing the underside of him to your cunt and bucking your hips slightly against him.

“Fuck me, I ain’t teach ya that,” Cooper looked down, slack-jawed, at the way you moved.

“Hardwired…” You muttered, you yourself entranced by your ministrations.

“She’s gonna look so pretty stuffed full o’me,” he thrust his hips against you, matching your casual pace. “Y’think ya can take it, darlin’? Gonna lemme fill y’up ‘n’then some?”

“Please,” you struggled to hide your excitement, “Show me—break me.”

“Well, shit,” he groaned out, fingers of one hand gripping your thigh while his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to line himself up with your entrance, “’F’you insist.”

He went slow, teasing you, dragging himself through your folds before finally pushing forward just enough to let the tip of his cock penetrate you.

“H—oh,” you stuttered, feeling a brief squeeze of something in your abdomen.

“Jes—us, fuck. Jus’ relax, sweetheart. Gonna be gentle for ya.” His voice was raw with desire, and gentler than you’d ever heard it. That alone helped you feel more at ease. He worked you open, inching into you until he was fully sheathed. “Look’at’cha, baby, see how that pretty gash drools for me?” He couldn’t even try to hide his pleasure, heavily lidded eyes paired with his incessant narration. “Lord, bury me in this tight fuckin’ cunt.”

You shivered, feet hooking into his back and quietly urging him to do more. You felt your walls clench around him, familiarizing your body with the pleasant new intrusion.

“Gonna move now, sweetheart. Y’alright?”

“Please,” you gasped when he pulled back an inch, “Let me feel it. Wanna feel you ruin me.”

The hand he didn’t have on your thigh moved to wrap loosely around your neck. “Y’got a dirty fuckin’ mouth.” He leaned forward, inadvertently pushing his cock deeper within you and making you moan wantonly into the kiss he offered. “Now you look at me, baby. Keep those eyes on me while I break y’nice.”

He pulled back before plunging into you and setting a fast but compassionate pace. You wiggled free of his grasp on your throat, head falling back in shock and pleasure.

“What’d I fuckin’ say?” He snarled, grabbing you by the nape of your neck and forcing your face up. “You look at me while I’m fuckin’ you—want y’to see who’s makin’ you feel like this.”

Though your eyes rolled back slightly with each press of his hips to yours, you managed to keep your head up with help from the hand he had on the back of your neck.

“Fuck,” you mumbled out a whine when the tip of his cock nudged at your cervix, a pinch of pain that was drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure. You’d never felt fuller, or more complete, than you did in that moment—connected to him on a much more literal level.

You rolled your hips, desperate for more, pleading for everything he had to give you. You tried to match his pace, but your movements were more urgent than his own and you found yourself squirming pitifully on his cock.

“Thought you’d need it gentle,” Cooper growled out, his teeth clenched, “Was gonna be so patient. But y’really are just a needy fuckin’ whore, huh?” He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you to him and effectively quieting your movements. “Ain’t’cha? Say it. Tell me what’cha’re, girl.”

“Needy—needy whore.” You let yourself collapse under the pleasure, burying your face into him and letting his skin mute your words.

“That’s right. ‘Nd who’re you needy for?” He goaded you, hips still pistoning forward while you clawed at his back.

“You,” you managed to choke out.

He pulled you back by your hair, and you yelped out a moan as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Say my fuckin’ name. You’re my needy li’l whore, ain’t that right, darlin’? C’mon.”

“Y—es,” you whimpered, grabbing handfuls of him wherever you could reach and pulling him forward to you for a sloppy kiss.

“Don’t be shy now, tell me.”

“I’m yours, Cooper—yours.”

“Shit, there y’go,” he moaned, leaning his head back and granting you access to his neck, where you trailed open mouth kisses.

When he used the arm around your waist as leverage to pull you closer and drag you over his cock, you sucked your lips between your teeth, biting down and trying to let the sounds that traveled from your throat die before they reached your mouth.

“Don’t get shy on me,” he punctuated his words with sharp thrusts of his hips, “Wanna hear y’screamin’.” He tilted you back so you were lying on the counter, wrapping his mouth around the pillowy flesh of your breast, sucking and biting down on you until you caved and let your moans flow freely from between your lips.

“Cooper—fuck,” your voice was strained by satisfaction, “It’s—yeah, taste me while you fuck me.”

“Atta girl,” he groaned, licking over your nipple before biting down on it, “Sound pretty when you’re cryin’ for me like that. Usin’ all your dirty words—what would they think down in that vault o’yours ‘f’they saw ya givin’ it all up to a man like me? Gettin’ split in half by a fuckin’ ghoul ‘nd likin’ it?” He was rambling, getting off on the thought of people seeing a pretty young thing like you, smooth and soft and lively, speared on his cock.

He'd fuck you out in the open next time, if you’d let him.

“Don’t—don’t care—" you were panting, overstimulated and loving it, “Want more.”

“Greedy bitch,” he reached between your bodies and pinched your clit, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you. “Been nice enough to fuck y’rough like ya needed ‘nd you’re still actin’ desperate. Just gonna have to keep you on my cock like this all the time.”

“Yes!” You moaned, the thought of him keeping you full like this made you more than happy. The excitement in your voice did little to quell his thoughts of keeping you beneath him, hoarding you to himself and stuffing you every free moment.

“Yeah, ‘at’s what’cha need. Dumb fuckin’ hole to use, s’at right? Y’just wanna be a cunt f’me to fill.” He sped up, and in his haste his cock jabbed against your g-spot repeatedly and with no mercy.

Nobody had ever spoken to you like this, held you liked this, or fucked you at all, let alone in a manner so aggressive and hungry for you. You loved it, you lapped up the attention and the degrading praise that he lobbed at you and begged for more.

“Fucking—anything, I’ll do anything for you, Cooper,” you meant it, too, “Use me how you want, whenever you want, I’ll fucking let you—I’ll let you.”

“You be a good girl ‘n’cum for me, I’ll help you make good on that promise.” He drawled, not planning to let up anytime soon but aching for the feel of your cunt squeezing him even deeper. “Soak my fuckin’ cock, I’ll bend y’over til y’forget your own fuckin’ name.”

“O—fuck, please,” you wanted it, craved the feeling of his cock pounding into your already sore center even more as he demonstrated to you all the ways that you could take him. He rolled your clit between his fingers, combining the movement with gentle strokes using the pad of his thumb. “C—ooper,” you hardly managed to breathe his name, the now more than familiar feeling of white-hot arousal coating your veins and clouding your senses.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he muttered, “Lemme have it—drown me with it.”

This was the closest he’d ever felt to feral, wild and primal and absolutely hungry for the way you convulsed when you came. He pressed harder against your clit, coupling the motion of his fingers with long, deep strokes of his cock.

Your nails dug into the counter under your head as you let go, your chest heaving. Whining, you arched your back, the satisfaction of feeling him so deep in your cunt prolonging the electricity of your high.

“Fuck,” Cooper was rasping, his words catching in his throat and tugged out by the pleasure of feeling you clench around him, your slick dripping over his length. “Goddamn sweet pussy, there’y’go baby—that’s what I wanna see.” He continued to roll his hips against you, enjoying the way you whimpered for him. “Y’gonna let me bend ya over now?” He cooed, pushing hair from your face.

You opened your mouth, breathing heavily, trying to find words to respond.

“Don’t waste your breath, sweetheart—f’you open your mouth again I’ll be tempted to fuck it.” The thought made you moan, any words you’d been able to think up dying before they reached your lips. “You’d fuckin’ like that, though, huh?” When you nodded dreamily, he laughed, and seeing the rise and fall of his chest, and the genuine smile on his cracked lips formed from affection rather than disdain, your fading orgasm was replaced with burning desire to let him give you another.

“Bend—bend me over.” You whispered, voice soft and dry after overworking your lungs.

“Gonna have’ta pull out first.” He cocked a brow, teasing you just for the hell of it. He was obsessed with the image before him, the sweet headstrong vault dweller that he’d managed to get in such an unholy position; corrupting you like this was his new favorite pastime.

“Mm,” you mewled, loosening your legs from around his waist and letting them go slack by his sides. “Fast.”

“So desperate to be stuffed, can’t bear a couple seconds?” He pulled out slowly, and you shivered. The hollow feeling in your lower half made you clench around nothing, and you were eager to have him replace the emptiness.

You shook your head in response to his goading.

“’Nd that’s why you’re a whore.” He spoke with a sense of finality, more than ready to get you beneath him.

Cooper tugged you forward by your hips, easing you off the counter until your feet hit the floor with a dampened thud. You swayed, and his hands moved to your waist to ensure you didn’t collapse into more of a lusted-out heap than you already were. Slowly, he turned you, encouraging you to bend at the hips and let your hands drape over the front of the counter.

“Pretty thing. So fuckin’ nice to look at.” His words were quiet, meant only for the two of you to hear, and even then, it was mostly for his sake; he kept moving, kept speaking, to ensure this was all really happening and that he wouldn’t wake up hungover in a cold sweat, craving his body weight in jet.

“Christ…” He dragged his hands down your sides when you had made yourself comfortable, “So smooth.” He ran one finger down the length of your spine, and a contented sigh that verged on a laugh slipped through your lips. “So damn pretty—God, you’re a fuckin’ prize, sweetheart.”

“Your prize,” you mumbled into your arms where they cushioned your face. “Deserve something pretty.” You didn’t know why you said it. Maybe in your post-orgasmic haze you thought it would make more sense, maybe you would’ve been embarrassed for saying it if you had any sense of shame. All you could really think about in the moment was having him between your thighs again.

But it made sense to Cooper. And all the guilt and impurity he’d dealt with while traveling with you, and before, and all the reasons he felt marked by the devil (or at least some ungodly imp that had it out for him) faded from his mind. Caps be damned, you were the best reward he’d ever gotten, and it didn’t matter if he felt it was undeserved—you thought he’d earned it.

“Think you’re right,” he sighed, gripping his length and lining himself up with you. He took it as an opportunity to admire your form before he ravaged you again: drinking you in, listening to your quiet, urging whines.

He pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, spitting once and letting the strand pool between your ass. He watched with anticipation as it dripped, groaning slightly at the sight of his spit making its way to puddle over his cock where it connected to you.

His eyes darted over to the tight rim of your asshole; the trail of his saliva had left it glassy and he couldn’t help the way his thumb brushed over it.

“What about here, sweetheart?” He pressed leisurely against the puckered hole, “Y’ever think about takin’ it here? Gettin’ fucked where the sun don’ shine?”

“C—ooper,” the pressure was different, but not unwelcome. You’d never considered the possibilities, but now he had you wondering.

“I’m pullin’ yer leg, baby…’nother time.” He huffed a breath, adding it to the list of profane things he wanted to expose you to.

Besides, he was tired of teasing you—teasing himself. He didn’t have the restraint to keep his cock perched at your entrance any longer. He thrust wildly into you, bottoming out immediately and knocking the air from you.

“Shit—Cooper, fuck—” You gasped, arms shooting forward and nails scratching at the countertop. This position allowed him so much more free reign, and you could feel him deep in your stomach. “Oh, my g—yes, yes, yesyesyes!”

“You’re a fuckin’ dream,” Cooper leaned over you, pressing his chest into your back and wrapping a hand around your throat to keep your head still while he growled into your ear. “Fit like a fuckin’ glove. Y’feel that?” He dragged his cock out of you before punching it back in, and you cried out for him. “Made for me, ain’t that right?”

“H—n—yes!” The back of your head settled into the crook of his neck, and you were thrilled to be surrounded by him; his hand on your throat and his body above you, stuffed full of him and dripping down your own thighs—it was perfect. “For you, Cooper.”

“Gonna make sure y’don’t forget it,” he straightened back up, moving his hand to your upper back to pin you down, “Mold this fuckin’ cunt just for me—ruin ya good, nobody else’ll have a fuckin’ chance.”

His hips pressed against your ass, every thrust somehow deeper than the last; you gave up on forming coherent words, mouth agape and producing muddled whines. You felt tears gather in the corners of your eyes and then flow down your cheeks, overwhelmed by the bliss of his cock punching into your most tender spot and unable to keep up with the arousal that coursed through you.

“Don’t even have to see that pretty face to know what’cha look like right now,” Cooper continued his onslaught of affectionate degradation, “Fucked out so good yer cryin’. Stupid, cockdumb li’l thing.” His hand moved up from your back and he laced his fingers through your hair, tugging from the root and pulling you up to him so that your back arched and he could look at you while he spoke. “Pathetic li’l girl.”

You offered a delighted, if not incoherent, reply.

“Just that good, huh? Bet’cha ain’t know it could feel like this.” He licked a stripe up your cheek, following the salty path of your tears.

“’S‘mazing—” You whimpered, eyes rolling back. You pushed yourself back against his thighs, desperate for everything you could get from him. “Cooper—‘s’o g—ood.”

“Fuckin’ look’t you,” Cooper bit down on your neck, running his tongue over the spots his teeth had left dents in, “Work for it, sweetheart.”

With the energy you had left, you rocked back on your feet, leaning against him and pushing your ass into his hips. The noises you let out were pornographic, practically inhuman, and Cooper lapped it up. His free hand fell to your hips, squeezing the skin there before tracing down to your thigh and then up over the curve of your ass. He kneaded the flesh, then let his hand come down in a quick smack before repeating the motion. You let out strangled moans each time, unable to wrap your mind around how he managed to make everything feel so good, so natural.

“Gonna cum f’me?” He used his grasp on your hips and hair to take his control back, dragging you over his cock like a toy and listening to you cry out. “C’mon, girl, wet this cock again.”

“Fuck,” it was the first real word you’d managed to speak in a while, “Ca—an’t…” You had never tried to give yourself multiple orgasms, usually sated and in bed after you’d given yourself one. You were almost certain that you wouldn’t be able to give him what he wanted a third time in a row, despite how badly you wanted it, too.

“Oh, yes y’can, sweetheart,” the hand he’d had on your hip wrapped around your front, fingers immediately dropping to your clit and massaging it in quick, tight circles. “Just gotta make ya.”

Your legs were spasming and your tongue lolled from between your lips; you felt wrecked and used up and it made the fire in your core burn twice as bright.

You screamed his name, cried it out repeatedly while you drenched his cock.

Cooper let go of the grip he had on your scalp, groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him and the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“Good girl—only fuckin’ word y’gotta know.” He moaned, still thrusting into you, though his pace had slowed, and his fingers pressed more gently into your clit as you rode out your high. “Y’gonna let me bust in that pretty mouth again?” He reached forward, two of his fingers hooking the side of your cheek before adjusting to rest on your tongue. You closed your lips around them and sucked. “Wanna swallow what I got for ya?”

You tried to respond, but your words were garbled by his fingers.

“Speak up, girl,” Cooper tsked, letting his hand fall down to your throat and giving it a squeeze.

“Not—not my mouth,” you spluttered, “In my pussy.”

You heard him let out a strangled sound, one he quickly tried to swallow in order to regain composure. He wanted to argue—tell you that you weren’t just a quick fuck he’d toss chems at and forget in an hour, that he’d paint your chest or your ass or your face instead, give you all the glory of the reward without the poisonous aftereffects.

But damn if he didn’t want to see you full of his load, letting him watch while it dripped from your swollen, used-up hole.

“Y’sure, sweetheart?” He pressed, holding back his imminent high for a moment longer to make sure you weren’t just letting your libido speak for you.

“Cooper…” You whined, purposefully squeezing your walls tighter around him, “Fill me up.”

He had to hand it to you: even fucked stupid, you were still stubborn as all hell. And incredibly convincing, at that.

It made him smile into the back of your neck, leaning forward to pin you down again while he sped up the motion of his hips.

“Fuckin’ whore. Y’wanna get filled up so bad?” He caged you between his arms, trapping you between his body and the counter, “Fill y’up every fuckin’ day—keep ya drippin’ for me so I can slide right back in. Fuckin’ cumslut.”

He was getting sloppy; his thrusts were more erratic, and he’d given up completely on keeping a steady pace.

You craned your neck to the side, eyes lidded and dry tears clinging to your lashes, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. He stared down at you. You looked completely wrecked, and absolutely beautiful, and it was the first time in over two centuries that he felt right.

He kissed your temple.

“Cum in me,” you whispered, “Please, Coop.”

“Cryin’ for me, beggin’ t’be pumped full’a cum by a fuckin’ ghoul,” he was heaving, his words just as needy sounding as they were ragged and controlling. “Y’wan’it? I’ll fuckin’ give it t’ya. Desperate slut—Christ—fuck! There y’go.” His moan of your name was gruff, almost choked as he pumped into you. You felt him pulse, his chest pressing against you as he took labored breaths, still whimpering quiet whispers of your name. You clenched around him, half on purpose and half on reflex, and he groaned behind you.

You stayed like that, together in a heap, barely supported by the counter beneath you. Finally, he moved his head to pepper kisses on your shoulder.

“Gotta get y’up,” he mumbled against you.

“Don’t wanna.” You were perfectly happy to stay where you were, with the cold counter pressed against your cheek and his cock still inside you.

“RadAway.” He said it like a warning.

“I feel fine.”

“Don’t test me, darlin’.”

“Or what?” You goaded, arching your back against him and wiggling your hips.

He cursed under his breath. “You’ll get sick ‘nd whiney ‘n’I’m the one ‘at’s gotta deal with it.” He nipped at your neck, and you giggled.

“Sick, maybe. I don’t whine.” You rolled your eyes.

“Uhuh.” Cooper chuckled, standing properly. He winced when he finally pulled out of you, but the discomfort of having to remove himself was quickly remedied by the way his cum dripped from your cunt and down your thighs. He watched transfixed as the gooey mixture of the two of you slid down your legs. Raising his hand almost subconsciously, he swiped at the liquid as it trickled over your skin and pressed two fingers inside of you.

“Cooper,” it was more a gasp than a coherent call of his name.

“Said I’d keep ya full…” He was muttering, eyes never leaving your swollen cunt as he pushed his spend back into you. You whined, sore but content, when he leaned forward to press kisses into the globe of your ass, biting down with minimal pressure just to savor the bounce of your skin against his teeth.

He managed to tear himself away after a while, leaving you to your own devices momentarily while he tracked down his duster and laid it out on the floor.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” his palms were back on your hips, and he helped you find the energy to stand up straight. He whistled as he guided you to the spot on the floor he’d chosen, hands never leaving you when he got you to curl up on the duster.

“No room for you,” you complained, stretching out an arm to emphasize the uncovered floor next to you.

He smiled down at you, kneeling to rustle through the pockets of the coat under you to find RadAway.

“Y’think I care ‘bout sleepin’ on the ground? Slept underground before, sweetheart. Not one t’bother with comfort.” He kissed your thigh, trying to distract you from the sting of the needle he pressed into you. “Long’s I’m next to you, I’ll be jus’ fine.”

You winced when he delivered the RadAway, but the press of his calloused hand against the spot of the intrusion offered instant relief.

He found his way next to you, lying on the floor and putting out his arm for you. You curled against him, draping a leg over his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

You lay there together, appreciating the company and basking in each other’s quiet affection.

“This’s what it’s s’posed to feel like.” Cooper spoke.

“What?” You’d almost fallen asleep in the tranquility.

“Livin’.” He said simply.

“You’d know better than anybody…” You smiled, “What, a hundred years old? One-fifty?”

He craned his neck to look at you, smirking.

“Two hundred? You’ll stop me if I get it right, right?” You pushed him.

He just grinned, rolling his eyes and lying back down.

“Never told you how bad it was for me before I found you.” You kept talking.

“Now, ‘f’I recall correctly, I found you, sweetheart.”

“Y—shut up,” you laughed, and he laughed with you. “I thought I could be part of something. And then I thought I was dead.” You explained, “Or at least…dying.”

“No. You would’a pulled through.” He wrapped a strand of your hair around his finger, letting it uncurl before repeating the cycle. “Y’always do, Einstein.”

And even after everything, that’s what made you blush—his recognition, his praise of your skills.

“You are part o’somethin’. By the way.” He didn’t elaborate, just wrapped his other arm around you to pull you closer.

“Yeah, well…” You could only imagine what he meant, but no matter what, you had a feeling that he meant it wholeheartedly. “Helps that I’ve got you now.”

“Helps that I got you.” He echoed, barely above a whisper.

You both fell into silence again, his hands still combing through your hair.

“Meant it. ‘Bout how I feel really…alive.” Cooper stopped fiddling and rested his hand on your back. “Never thought I’d…” He had backed himself into a corner, unsure of how to describe his feelings. It had been so long. “I never thought I’d appreciate havin’ someone by my side quite as much as I appreciate you.” He chose his words carefully, not yet willing, or able, to put into words the true depth of his devotion to you.

You smiled; you knew exactly what he meant this time, and it made you feel like crying and kissing him and letting your heart burst through your chest.

Instead, you breathed deep, letting him flood your senses. “I love you, too, Coop.”

He moved to kiss the top of your head, chaste and vulnerable, and you leaned into him further.

“You’re a good person. Yknow that?” His thumb swept over your skin where his palm was resting, “Capable. Smart. Good all ‘round.”

“You think?”

“As good ‘s there are stars in th’sky.”

“Even after I killed a man?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Especially after that.” He nodded in reassurance.

“…What now?”

“Figured we could just lie here a while longer,” Cooper stretched, raising his arms over his head before they settled back around you.

“Yeah,” you let out a small yawn, one of your hands pawing at his chest lazily.

“And after’at…we keep on walkin’.”

“Together?” You asked, your fingers pressing against his skin.

“For’s long as you’ll have me.” He smirked, squeezing your hip.

“Forever, then,” you smiled into him, letting your eyes close. “Forever.”

“Yeah, I think’at sounds good,” he leaned his head against yours, basking in the glow of you. “I like that.”

Maybe you had miscalculated, and certainly you had been wrong about plenty.

But you got to be someone. You got to see stars.

And you got him.

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