#spitfire if you may

[rainbow-wolf120]

Spitfire would be a great getaway driver istg

Oh, and driver chooses the music

[hitwiththetmnt]

moot @beannary! some au comp support from the sidelines

->Based on this post<-

[transmascsunburst]

WONDERBOLTS ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!

free to use with credit (⌒ω⌒)

[luvsavos]

cat behavior

[wingsy-keeper-of-songs]

Tav is fairly short at about 5'3 and she makes this everyone's problem

Tav Question

How tall is your Tav?

[gremlingottoosilly]

Monster!König with Spitfire Bunny!Reader who’s constantly trying to make him take her seriously as a soldier, but he can’t because…look at you? König desperately wants to break her bubble that everyone else who seems to be so accepting of a ‘weaker��� creature being among their ranks are simply just trying to cozy up to her and get in her pants. (May have accidentally sent this twice so please ignore if you see this again)

You are accepted as a supply runner for one simple reason - they all wanted to look at the way your ass was shaking as you desperately tried to keep up with predator hybrids, and they liked giving you orders that made your face twitch in that adorable little expression. It made you look fucking adorable, and Konig loved seeing you all sweaty and tired after a good mission. Well, as good of a mission as he let you take. Nothing too dangerous for his fluffy princess, of course, just some easy human work. Even rebels tend to soften at the sight of fluffy ears and twitching noses, and it was usually the last mistake they'd make. You're not letting anyone get in your panths though! Even as your bunny heat comes closer and closer and you're starting to rub your twitching, juicy pussy on every corner of the base table in Konig's office, you still refuse to cave to your instincts and let the nearest hybrid mount you until your belly is full of little hybrid bunnies. You're trying your best to appear cool, professional, your face isn't betraying your emotions even as Konig was spending his days playing and squeezing your tail as if it was his stress toy. Oh, but when your heat does come...Konig, as a good commander and an example to his men, decided to take the responsibility of ensuring that your sweet bunny hole is stuffed with his tentacles. Who needs a whole team of monsters to satisfy your breeding urges when you have your colonel, ready to fuck you through the days, until you're absolutely spent and stuffed with his eggs? Konig is excited to give you a new, very important role in the squad - being his little stress relief, a bunny-shaped fucktoy and an incubator to his eggs. His bloodline is so strong as an eldritch monster, you wouldn't want it to be over, right? Like a good girl, you should spread your pretty legs for him every time he wants and make sure all of your holes are available.

At least now Konig lets you nap in his office and won't let your former squadmates make fun of your new status as a sex relief...although the base is just quite salty that the cutest bunny girl out there was taken by the colonel himself, without a chance of him sharing with his fellow man. At least they can still see how cute your tail looks every time Konig uses it as a leverage to fuck you even harder.

[solarmorrigan]

You've Got Me

For the @steddie-spooktober day 16 prompt: "Would you please stop trying to scare them?" Rated: T | Words: 1430 | CW: references to PTSD, nightmares | Tags: established relationship, protective Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson being an asshole, just for a little bit though he didn't know any better, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

The ringing of the phone in the hall jolts Eddie from what had otherwise been a peaceful sleep.

He lies there a moment, attempting to parse out what the hell he’s supposed to do to make the ringing stop, when someone pats him vaguely on the chest and rolls out of the other side of the bed, telling him, “I’ve got it.”

Steve, Eddie’s brain supplies. Steve’s always been faster to wake, moving from dead sleep to motion in a way Eddie only manages after nightmares.

The ringing stops, followed by the sound of Steve’s voice, faint but audible through the cracked bedroom door. Eddie blinks at the ceiling, trying to kick his brain into gear. What time is it? What day is it? Who the hell is calling in the middle of the night?

Eddie turns to squint at the clock in the dark. It’s just gone three in the morning. It’s… October 30th? Something like that. It’s almost Halloween, Eddie knows that for sure – which is when it hits him.

Almost Halloween. Almost an anniversary.

He’d bet money it’s either Dustin or Lucas on the phone. Slight chance it’s Max, if she’s been shaken up enough. Doubtful that it’s Mike – he wouldn’t stoop to admitting he needs to talk to Steve in the middle of the night; he usually waits until morning to call, if he’s going to at all.

Eddie’s heard the full story of Upside Down Event Number Two, everything that took place around Halloween of 1984, and he understands the phone calls now. He understands the tension that threads through their little group around this time of year, even as they all try to enjoy Halloween. Even though he’d had no way of knowing at the time, he regrets it a little that he hadn’t taken it more seriously – how shaken up the kids had been that first year he’d known Dustin, Mike, and Lucas.

Eddie’s always loved Halloween; loves the aesthetic, loves the candy, loves the premise of running around and causing chaos in the night, loves everything about it, really. Most of Hellfire Club had been in agreement with him: it’s a holiday for misfits. He hadn’t been able to understand, then, what had gotten into his snarky, spitfire little freshmen – for a few guys who’d seemed like they’d be really into the holiday, they mostly seemed edgy about the whole thing.

And so Eddie had tried to get them into the spirit.

He’d done so by running a special campaign all through October, something filled with darkness and monsters to set the mood. He also may have done so by occasionally sneaking up on them and spooking them; he doesn’t really have an excuse for that one, they’d just been such easy pickings. He hadn’t understood at the time why.

He may have done this one evening after Hellfire, when Steve had come by to pick the boys up.

And instead of waiting in his car and occasionally beeping the horn impatiently, like usual, Steve had parked, gotten out, and marched right up to the drama room doors where everyone had been waiting.

“Go wait in the car,” Steve had told the boys, his tone harder than Eddie had ever heard it when they were in school together. “I’m gonna take a minute to catch up with Munson.”

The fact that no one had argued with him should have clued Eddie into how serious the whole thing was, but he’d mostly been distracted by what the hell Steve Harrington could have wanted to talk to him about.

“So, what have I done to earn an audience with the king?” Eddie had asked once the boys had gone.

Steve hadn’t taken the bait, only crossed his arms over his chest and answered, “Would you please stop trying to scare them?”

Eddie had blinked at him, surprised. “What?”

“Look, I know what you’ve been doing.” Steve had said, expression as stony as his tone. “Henderson’s been telling me all about your horror adventure or whatever it is, and he’s mentioned your little jump scares, too, and I’m telling you: you need to knock it off.”

At the time, Eddie had only bristled; people didn’t tell him what to do – especially not people like Harrington.

“They’re big boys, Harrington, I think they can speak for themselves if they object to a few jokes.”

“They shouldn’t have to,” Steve had snapped. “Just– those kids have been through some shit, okay? So maybe take that into consideration before you go jumping out of closets or whatever the fuck you’ve been doing.”

Eddie had not been jumping out of closets, for the record, but Steve’s words had given him pause. “What kind of shit?”

Steve had shifted, almost uncomfortably, but stood his ground. “You remember the whole mess with Will Byers?”

Who didn’t? That whole thing had been a trip and a half; kid goes missing, is found dead in the quarry, gets buried, and then somehow turns up miraculously alive and (mostly) well? It stuck out as an event to just about everyone in town. Eddie had nodded at Steve.

“Well they’re his best friends,” Steve had jerked his head back towards the car. “And we’re coming up on that time of year, so I think you’d be a little jumpy, too.”

It had been all the information Steve had been allowed to share at the time—stories of demodogs and junkyards and tunnels and Hargrove wouldn’t come for another few months—but it had been enough to make Eddie feel a little guilty.

This had only served to make him pricklier, and Steve had taken his sudden, stubborn silence as his cue to make an exit.

“Just think about it, Munson,” he’d said, before turning and heading back to his car.

Eddie had thought about it, and to his credit, he’d stopped with the jump scares and had mildly scaled back some of the gory details in his Halloween campaign, and the kids had come back around to themselves.

Now– now Eddie gets it.

He manages to shuffle himself up and out of bed with a sigh, willing some coordination back into his limbs as he struggles into a pair of sweatpants and stumbles out into the hall. It’s still dark, illuminated only by the kitchen light, but he can see Steve leaning against the wall next to the phone, the handset cradled against his ear with his arms crossed tight over his chest.

He must be cold. The hallway is chilly, and Steve hadn’t even paused to find pants before answering the phone; he’s standing there in just his boxers, but he’s talking calmly to whoever’s on the other end of the line.

“No, you guys did a shit job patching me up,” he’s saying, though he sounds nothing but fond as he does so, “but I’m tough, so I pulled through, anyway.” There’s a moment of silence as he listens to the person on the other end of the line. “You want me to come over there and prove it?” Steve finally offers in response – he sounds flippant, but Eddie knows it’s sincere, and he’s pretty sure whoever is talking to him will know it, too.

After another few moments, Steve asks, “You sure?” Then, “Okay. You have our number if you change your mind… Yeah. See you then, bud.”

“Everything good?” Eddie asks, holding out a hand as Steve levers himself away from the wall.

“Fine,” Steve answers, taking Eddie’s hand and trailing him back to the bedroom. “Henderson. Just a nightmare.”

Must’ve been some nightmare if he’d felt the need to call and make sure Steve was still alive at three in the morning, but Eddie keeps that assessment to himself. He hums in sympathy instead, leading Steve back to bed.

They settle in, Eddie on his back and Steve cuddled up against his chest, leeching whatever warmth he has to offer as Eddie strokes a hand down his back.

“You gonna be able to get back to sleep?” Eddie asks quietly.

The kids aren’t the only ones who have trouble this time of year.

“’m fine,” Steve answers, already sounding like he’s partway to sleep. “Got you, don’t I?”

Eddie smiles into the darkness, slowing the motion of his hand until he can cinch his arm around Steve’s waist and tug him closer. Maybe he hadn’t fully understood what they’d all been going through in the beginning, but he’s there now, and it seems like that must count for something.

“Whenever you need me, baby,” Eddie promises. “You’ve always got me.”

[brittle-doughie]

Eyoooooo I Uhh, have a really long au that’s been kinda driving me insane to keep to myself lately but not only is it nowhere near done, I’m pretty sure it’s already way too long to reasonably fit into an ask so, I guess I’m asking if you’d like to read it? Idrk I just want someone to share this idea with so that I don’t lose it completely. It’s a variation of the beast ancients au but things go horribly wrong both really slowly and really quickly.

As payment for a nothing ask, I give you: a character study moment that has absolutely nothing to do with the au in question I just thought it was neat.

You were cornered.

Nowhere left to run.

The last gleam of hope dying as you stumbled your way in. All that greets you is red torchlit stonework.

‘Why the hell are there even dead ends in here?!’ You mutter, mostly to yourself, knowing full well there’s not much of a point in being quiet now. But your incredibly valid question must wait as your pursuer, and the one who broke off your leg has found you. Huddled in the corner, clutching a dagger and jam still leaking out of where your leg once was. He hums, an idea having piqued his interest. The loud clatter of his weapon falling against the floor startles you to attention. What you see, is quite strange indeed.

Burning Spice Cookie stands just a few feet away from you, arms outstretched as if waiting for a hug, and a colossally smug smile on his face. Stranger still, is what he says next.

“Come here, hit me, show me that fire in your eyes again, little cookie”

By far, the weirdest thing though, is that you listen to him.

Hobbling back to get a better angle, your remaining leg shudders and struggles to carry you any farther. The dagger in your hand the only thing still keeping you grounded, aware that what is happening is real. And Burning Spice simply waits, far more patiently then you ever expected him capable of. The hopelessness of the situation rattles you once again, and it spurs you forward, dagger flying through the air towards your assailant, and you along with it.

The dagger strikes true, piercing through dough with ease as jam leaks out of the wound you’ve caused, wetting your hands as you try to keep your vice grip on the dagger as your good leg has finally given out on you. Putting your whole weight on the comparatively tiny blade.

And he doesn’t even flinch

Burning Spice plucks you by the nape, holding you up in one hand as the other pulls out the dagger. Your hands fall down with it, barely having the strength to keep focus now.

“A well placed strike given your handicap. I think I’ll keep you all to myself.” He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, even after you flinch away, he remains ever gentle, ever patient. A part of you is pretty sure you’re hallucinating from jam loss at this point. That’s the only explanation for this-

“I wonder what that fire in your eyes will become. Will it be smothered-“ Burning Spice is stopped mid sentence as something cuts him just below his eye. He simply cannot help the fondness and pride he feels for you already. His grinning teeth on full display as if revelling in the wounds you’ve caused.

“Yes, I’ve already decided. You will be my favourite little spitfire.” Your head slumps, dagger clattering to the floor as your grievous wound finally catches up to you. And just as gently, Burning Spice carries you to your new home.

-ephemeralcryptid

Y/N Cookie will be a beautiful new addition to the Spice Swarm.

Golden Cheese was only holding them back, keeping them a constant in the tides of Change. Burning Spice can fix that….

And now? She can only watch as Burning Spice leaves with them deeper into his palace, their weak body in his arms.

She wanted to scream….

Run after them…

Demand he comes back to fight her….

Instead…

Between her dough cracking and coughing up strawberry jam…

She cries….

She cries for her precious treasure back….

A treasure that may not be hers anymore…..

[jello-chennie]

relationship hcs!

✧ pairing izuku, katsuki, eijirou, shouto w/ fem!reader

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

✧ a/n check out my masterlist!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ izuku ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

isn't at all sure about how he pulled you

but he did and he isnt complaining

would absolutely love a kind soul in his partner

he swoons anytime you do little things to take care of him like if you know he has a pretty busy day, even if you're busy too, you go out of your way to make him a cup of coffee or tea and you always seem to get it just right

or whenever he's super focused on something the past few days and starts getting a little scatter brained, he'll forget to eat

if you're in ua, you'll share your lunch with him (which he will deny at first, but when you start pouting at him, he cant say no)

if he's a pro-hero and working, you take him out to lunch on his break

doesn't matter how far into your relationship you two are, he's always getting flustered by you

despite that, he's always trying to make you laugh (even if it means dying inside from embarrassment)

izuku cannot formally confirm or deny whether or not he may or may not be intentionally getting a few extra bumps and scrapes just so you can take the time to gently and lovingly bandage his wounds

loves it when you cut his hair for him!

even when you mess up (his chest will hurt a little with embarrassment whenever he's out in public, but only a little bc you did something for him, and he loves that more than anything else)

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ katsuki ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

totally would end up in a relationship in which you are his polar opposite

everyone is confused

but it totally works!

you're super shy and sweet, and hes audacious and a little abrasive

he pulls you out of your shell and makes you become less of a doormat, you reign him in a bit and round out his sharper edges

when he takes you to meet his parents, it doesn't fly past him that the two of you have a dynamic that reminds him of his parents

which pisses him off to no end bc that means he truly is his mother's son

he's become his mother

bakugou doesn't form close relationships easily, and is definitely an all or nothing kind of guy

once you're in, you're locked in

it doesn't take him very long to start fantasizing about marriage and kids once you officially become a couple

he is you're personal chef

and once you both enter the workforce, he takes extreme pride in making your lunch for you

can and will enter a silent competition with the significant other's of your coworkers for who can make the best bento

probably makes a social media page dedicated to making cooking videos in which he posts aesthetic af videos of him making meals for you

"pro-hero dynamite is famous on the internet for also being a gourmet chef!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ eijirou ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

kirishima would definitely fall for someone super fem presenting

he works out all the time and has all these muscles solely for the purpose of carrying things for you

and carrying you

afterall, that's what a real man does

will stop and buy all the pretty things he sees in store that remind him of you

likes it when you stick some of your cute stickers you make him take you to the mall to go buy onto his gear

is tickled pink by headlines that show up the next day like "red riot big sanrio fan?"

has matching sanrio keychains on his phone case with you

loves to sit and watch you do your makeup

will sit next to you and ask you to explain it to him

kiri will never say no when you ask to put it on him

after all, what kind of man would have his masculinity threatened by a little makeup?

besides, it's not like he can say no when you look up at him with those big, pretty eyes, and the cute, hopeful, little grin on your face

that would be just wrong

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ shouto ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

one of the types of people i see shouto falling for is someone who is a bit of a spitfire

someone who is caring, compassionate, and understanding

someone with endless amounts of kindness in their heart, and a little wise, but relentlessly brazen

he both loves and admires them, and falls for their personality

i see shouto taking little bits and pieces of his partner's personality, and they are ultimately responsible for shouto becoming a little more outspoken

shouto is someone who would become a teeny bit obsessed with his partner

you officially have a shadow once you get together bc he will have no problem following you everywhere, and wanting to hangout with you all the time

isn't at all nervous about having you meet his dad, bc shouto knows that if endeavor starts pissing you off, you'll find a way to respectfully tell him to fuck off without missing a beat

you're also super smart and emotionally intelligent, so when his family life starts to become particularly messy at the moment, you're right by his side helping him navigate

shouto loves you for being his lover and his confidant, constantly there for him with open arms and advice that's strangely wiser beyond your years

once shouto's dad stops being crummy, endeavor actually comes to respect you

shouto's mom and sister love you, and the three of you gossip like school girls

which makes shouto a little jealous when he feels left out

shouto's the kind of bf to get jealous of the cat that he wanted but ended up liking you more

won't say anything, and will spend all day pouting in a corner some where

you have to give him ton of affection to make it up to him

[lovelettersforthedamned]

first of all i am loooooving hockey peter and i knew deep down that man is a loverboy!!!

so i just wanted to throw in the idea that one of the turning points in the relationship being aunt may??? like peter could try and pretend all he wants in front of aunt may but she'd be so happy to call him out right there in front of his girl

Awkward

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: aunt may's question about the two of you makes you spiral, so when is peter going to finally talk about it?

✰ warnings: fluff, kinda angst, a kiss, confusion from both the reader and peter.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ college!hockey!peter parker m.list

gif by @aliceblisss

Running errands with Peter wasn’t outside of the usual activities you two would share. Grabbing a few groceries, dropping off items at the post office, and even helping Aunt May with household chores were completely normal. 

You and Peter were in bed when Aunt May called him, asking for him to help move out some boxes from the basement. He was half awake, his mind and body still recovering from his playoff game last night, “Yeah, I can be there in a few hours…Mhm, yep. Okay, I love you too. Bye.” A groan left his lips as he stretched before planting a kiss on your forehead and heading toward the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

He wasn’t originally planning on getting out of the house today, but if his Aunt May needed his help, he was always there. Especially after his Uncle died. You had no idea about his family life, you never needed to; but when a picture of a young Peter next to an older man appeared on his laptop’s background, he couldn’t keep it quiet anymore. 

You knew quite a lot about his Aunt, whether or not Peter intended to talk about her often or not, it just happened naturally. Peter would always ramble about his Aunt’s Thanksgiving dinner, or her obnoxiously sizable collection of fabric to make new blankets. You could never forget Peter’s smile when he talks about her, it was contagious. 

So as you’re laughing in the kitchen with Aunt May as Peter is breaking his back carrying boxes up the stairs, you can’t help but feel warm. You two met each other for the first time, but it’s quickly made clear that Peter has talked about you to his Aunt as much as he’s talked about her to you. 

He’s told her about ‘the girl’ that shows up at every one of his games, wearing his last name on her back. Or the girl that carried such spitfire, as he relived the story of how you two first met to May. Still, a stupidly sweet smile plastered on his face as he described each scene in detail. 

Aunt May telling you this made your heart clench. The thought of Peter telling his closest family member about you, and describing you in such a way that made May’s heart soar, was exhilarating but also sent your mind into a spiral. 

There was no time to dwell as Peter brought up the final box with a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate you guys helping, thank you so much,” a sarcastic tone to his voice, causing you to smile. 

Looking over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the sweaty brunette, “How could I help you when coffee was calling my name?”

“Sorry, honey,” Aunt May smiles, “the coffee part was my fault.” 

Peter wipes the sweat off his brow as he makes his way towards you and May before reaching for the refrigerator handle and pulling out a water bottle. A few beats of silence pass between the three of you when you feel Aunt May’s gaze glance between you and Peter as you take a sip of your coffee. “So when are you guys making it official?” She questions, making you choke on the dark liquid. 

Your face heats up as you instinctively look towards Peter who seems to be in the same boat as you. He slowly lowers the plastic bottle and caps it when he clears his throat, “Umm, we haven’t really talked about it. Right, bug?” 

Now that the attention was turned to you, it’s your turn to clear your throat. “Yeah, yeah,” you laugh nervously, “life has been a little busy. For both of us.” 

May can’t help but laugh into her mug as she watches the both of you squirm in embarrassment, especially Peter. He’s fidgeting at the stitching in his jacket, awkward silence hanging over the two of you as Aunt May is thoroughly enjoying this. “Well, thank you honey for helping me with the boxes. I definitely wouldn’t be able to do it by myself, that’s for sure,” she laughs as she stands up to guide the both of you out. 

You quickly say goodbye to Aunt May before heading out the door, Peter grabbing his keys behind you. You haven’t even noticed that he wasn’t directly behind you as you made your way to the car, he’s still in the house, May talking to him with a pretty stern look on his face. You couldn’t hear what she was saying, but from the way Peter looked, it wasn’t a light conversation. 

He jogs his way down to you, a half-fake smile appearing on his face as he opens the car door for you. Before fully stepping into the car, you look at him, studying his face. Peter looks back at you when you ask, “Is everything okay?” 

“Of course,” he nods, placing a peck to your lips befor walking around the car You take his half-assed response before planting yourself in the seat. 

The car ride back to your apartment is silent, but Peter’s hand is resting on your thigh, as usual. You place your hand on top of his, lightly squeezing it, grasping his attention. He smiles at you, and you smile back. Maybe you’ll talk about this later. 

✰ author's note: LOVED THIS ASK OMGG!! i love it when aunt may makes an appearence and completely embarrasses her nephew. if you want to send in a request like this one, you can! my ask box is open!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. ok, ily bye!!

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Lilia Vanrouge - General's Armor Voice Lines

General Lilia does not have a vignette

When Summoned: I am General Lilia Vanrouge of the Land of Briar. Whosoever may feel determined enough, come at me!

Summon Line: The Land of Briar is a place under the dominion of us creatures of the night. If you don't want to find yourself in a sticky situation, you better lay low, human.

Groooovy!!: Call me anything you wish. That is, anything other than "old man."

Home: Time to go to work.

Swap Looks: We're off, men.

Home Idle 1: I was an orphan and Maleficia-sama took me in under her care. She's so nice? Not one bit! If she snaps, she'll strike you down with her lightening.

Home Idle 2: I will protect the Land of Briar. That is my sworn duty. That was Raverne's... my late dearest friend's request of me.

Home Idle 3: Silver and Sebek's movements are strangely familiar. Who could possibly have been their instructor?

Home Idle - Login: I can't say I'm that interested in having the title of General, but... I would not be able to stand to work for someone weaker than myself. As I've taken on this role, I'll fulfill the duty that comes with it.

Home Idle - Groovy: It would be nice if the next successor to the throne would be more mild mannered... But no, that would be too much to ask of one of the Draconia bloodline.

Home Tap 1: Who'd ever go to Night Raven College? What could these barely born chicks even hope to teach me?

Home Tap 2: I can't stand these Silver Owl folk. They lay waste to the forest, pollute the water, and just do as they please... We'll cast them out.

Home Tap 3: Baur of the Royal Guard is a staunch fellow from Sunset Savanna. I'd say his loud volume, stubbornness, and constant nagging are some of his faults, however.

Home Tap 4: What, you think my mask is frightening? That's how most humans seem to react to it. I thought it was quite stylish, too.

Home Tap 5: If you need something of me, speak quickly. ...I look like someone you know? So what? Don't stop and call out to me for something that trivial.

Home Tap - Groovy: Maleanor-sama was quite the spitfire back in her younger days. I wouldn't be able to count how many times I'd have to accompany her as she snuck out of the castle to romp around in the forest.

Duo: [LILIA]: Sebek, whatever you do, don't get in my way. [SEBEK]: I'll cover you, Lilia-sama!

Requested by Anonymous.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {2}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: Alcohol leads to some bad decisions and a big fight threatens to tear the family apart. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, protective big brother, alcohol, daddy issues, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Round Twelve - Belgium 2022 A sponged microphone was shoved in your face and you barely stopped yourself from smacking it away out of reflex, but you did startle back a bit before recovering.

“You look a little wound up, Spitfire,” Lando commented with a laugh. “Ready to call a truce.”

“You wish, Norris. You may have won the battle but I’m going to win the war.”

The microphone picked up the exchange and the reporter cast a glance between the two of you. “Is this battling on the track?”

“With his tractor? No way,” you laughed, nudging Lando with your elbow and a smile to ease the blow. “Someone thought it would be funny to wake me up with a fire extinguisher, which I am totally blaming on Charles because I know you couldn’t come up with that on your own.”

“Hey!” Lando whined with a pout. “I…can’t come up with a lie right now.”

“That’s what I thought. Charles, watch your back and you both better sleep with one eye open.” You turned your attention back to the reporter and signalled with your hand for them to do their thing while you dutifully did yours for yet another Media Day.

“We know you and Max have a, some would say, unhealthy amount of competitiveness on the track but outside of that you are very protective of each other…so, how has he reacted to finding out you’re on the dating app Raya?”

You winced at the question and saw the guys get whiplash with how fast their heads turned your way. All along the line the question echoed. Lando, Pierre, Charles, Daniel and finally Max, ten beady eyes staring at you with a mixed array of emotions.

“What? You all get to date, why can’t I?” you asked defensively as you crossed your arms. “Gotta find something to do for summer break.”

“Hiking in the Alps,” Charles offered.

“Or sunbathing in the Maldives,” Pierre suggested.

“Please never refer to dating someone as ‘something to do’,” Max huffed. “Or better yet, never mention dating at all. Adopt some cats.”

You looked at Lando and quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have anything to add? Since everyone else seems to think they actually have a say in what I do.”

His eyes darted around the guys who were expecting him to pitch in but all he had was a squeaky and unsure, “No?” 

“And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

“Why do you want to date anyway?” Daniel asked, and you swore there was more than just curiosity in his tone.

“You guys have girlfriends, and I want one too.”

“A girlfriend?” he asked with far too much enthusiasm.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “I’m not ruling out 50% of the dating pool.”

“So how have you been finding the app,” the reporter asked, “any connections made?”

You huffed and shook your head, a few sighs of relief sounding down the line but you didn’t see who they came from. One was definitely Max.

“I’m an athlete. I train and I sweat so the last thing I want to do when I get home is do the laundry or cook a healthy meal. But my experience so far is that men think it’s the woman’s job to do that, so I need a guy that’s up for sharing responsibility. Is that too much to ask?”

“I’d cook for you!” A man called from the crowd and you sat up straighter trying to see where it came from. 

“What about laundry?” you fired back.

“Security,” Max called with a finger pointed to the good looking man who put his thumbs up in the air. 

“Ignore him. What’s your name?” you asked as you pulled out your phone. It only took ten seconds to find Martin’s social media accounts and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “This is why I have trust issues. I hope your girlfriend sees this and dumps you.”

Three days later You had failed to finish the GP after an embarrassing pitstop left one of your wheels rolling down the lane. The replay footage kept popping up wherever you went, even at the restaurant before the afterparty, and Max had the audacity to laugh. “Nice trike, zusje.”

“Shut up and get me another drink,” you grumbled as you drowned your sorrows.

He soon returned with two gin and tonics and huffed as you took them both. “I’m not carrying you back to the hotel if you pass out,” he warned before going and getting another drink for himself.

“That’s fine, I can always call my new friend, Martin,” you said with a grimace as he took your phone off the table and shoved it in his pocket. “Bonnie Tyler was onto something. Where have all the good men gone?”

“They aren’t at the bottom of your glass,” Max said as you tipped the drink back. “So you can stop looking there.”

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, bro.” 

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you push your chair back and head for the door.

“Taking a page out of P’s favourite book,” you said over your shoulder.

Christian sat back in his chair as you left and asked Max, “What’s P’s favourite book?”

“We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.” Max sighed and rubbed his temples, making Christian laugh with a shake of his head. 

“Should I send someone to keep an eye on her?” 

“It’s fine, we have family share so I can see her location-fuck! I have her phone!” Max leapt from the table and rushed out of the restaurant. He looked up and down the busy street but he couldn’t see you anywhere and combed a hand through his hair, wondering what he should do.

He hardly used his social media accounts, leaving it to his PA to monitor that side of things, but this would be the exception. Opening twitter, he put out the message asking that if anyone spots you to send him the location. Almost immediately he got bombarded with replies of concern and his anxiety spiked when he realised he would waste his night with the time it would take to go through and find any messages that were actually helpful.

A familiar face spotted you on the dancefloor of the club you found yourself in and you grinned when he made his way through the crowd to you. 

“Dance with me, Lando,” you shouted over the music.

“Your brother’s looking for you,” he replied, leaning closer so you could hear him. 

“Please don’t tell him where I am.” You could already feel your mood deflating and he bit his lip as he was torn between loyalties. 

“Okay, I won’t,” Lando promised, earning a bright smile that made him feel better. “But I’ll let him know you’re with me so he can stop freaking out.”

You didn’t bother to correct him, because Max would never stop worrying. He took his role as older brother too seriously, something you often found stifling since you had grown up without it and still struggled to accept it.

“I’m getting a drink, do you want one?” you asked as while he was busy on his phone, messaging Max.

“Uh, yeah, rum and coke, please.”

You slipped away to the bar, stumbling more than you would like to admit, and leaned against the bar top as you waited for some service. You hadn’t been there for more than a minute when an arm draped over your shoulders and you spotted the Forza Ferrari bracelet on the wrist.

“You have got twitter going crazy, chérie,” Charles said with a chuckle. “There’s quite a few people out hunting for you.”

“And I found her first,” Lando said as he brushed the arm off your shoulder and stood at your other side.

“Well,” you chuffed as you draped your arms over their shoulders and pulled them closer, “I’m on a hunt of my own and I could do with some help. A girl has needs and you two are going to be my wingmen.”

They both looked at each other and you could see the mental conversation they were having, each long passing second leading you to pull back. “No, don’t call Max. Lando, you promised.”

“We can’t just let you go off with some random,” Charles said as he caught your hand before you could escape the bar, “what if they are a serial killer?”

You tugged your hand back angrily and struggled to keep your balance when you were suddenly freed. “If I were a guy we wouldn’t be having this argument. Why can’t I have fun too?”

“We just want to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” you laughed bitterly and held your hand out. “Fine, give me a condom, I know you carry them around in your wallet.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Lando argued as he pushed your hand away. “You’re not sleeping with a stranger.”

“Is that you offering then?” You looked between Charles and Lando, watching their necks turn pink as you crossed your arms. “That's what I thought. I’m going to another bar, this one’s full of assholes. Hasta luego, pendejos.”

“Great, she’s been hanging out with Carlos,” Charles grumbled as you walked away.

“He’s better company than you two,” you shouted over your shoulder before you hit the exit. 

Cold air rushed into your lungs and you realised two things. One; you should have worn more clothes, and two; you were sobering up. There was only one way to solve both problems so you marched your way down the street to find another bar.

Your head was pounding and your stomach turned when you woke up to the first day of summer break. The hotel room was elegant and luxurious, but it wasn’t yours and you didn’t know how you had come to get here.

“Coffee?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you sighed with relief as Lando walked into the bedroom with two cups in his hands. “Where’s my clothes? Did we have sex? Wait, no, you wouldn’t cheat and I’d definitely remember that.”

“They’re in the dryer, and no we didn’t have sex,” he said as he handed you one of the cups. “You were soaked when we found you.”

You frowned as you tried to remember what happened but came up blank. “We?”

“You went for a swim in the fountain of love in the city centre. It was a ‘part of your hunt’, apparently. Charles helped me get you back here before anyone called the police.”

“Oh, great,” you muttered as you pulled the sheets higher. “Hey, you’re doing my laundry. It’s a shame you’re not single. Then again, you can’t cook for shit.”

“Be glad you’re single. The grass isn’t always greener on this side of the fence,” he said with a sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.” Lando suddenly looked guilty as he took the half drunk coffee back and placed it on the side table. “I should probably warn you, I called Max after you took off from us last night.”

“I was with you and Charles?” Your brows pinched together as you started to recall being angry at them before embarrassment followed. “Shit, I called you assholes.”

“It’s fine, but the only reason we found you again was because of some clips on Instagram.”

You could imagine another lashing from the Red Bull PR, it wasn’t the first time you were involved in drunk misadventures and it was caught on camera. Usually it was some dare or competition involving Max where neither of you wanted to admit defeat and things just got out of control. He’d probably enjoy hearing you get ripped a new one by Christian while he got a pat on the head for being the golden child.

“What did I do this time?” you asked, knowing it was easier to just rip the bandaid off.

“It isn’t what you did,” he said with a wince. “It’s what you said.”

“Well?” you prompted when he shifted awkwardly on his feet.

“You said Charles’ listens to Nickelback.”

Your head fell back with a laugh and the sheet fell down as you let go of the cotton to clutch your nauseous stomach. “Well at least I wasn’t spouting off a bunch of bullshit.”

“And that there were three drivers you would date if you got the chance.”

“Ah, well…” you cleared your throat and scrunched the bedding into your hands, ignoring the way his eyes trailed over your bra that was on display. “That is a lie. There’s only two. It’s just my luck they are both in relationships. Did I really use the word date?”

“You said fuck but the meaning was there.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on them with a heavy sigh. “I’m a mess. I’m surprised you didn’t try to prank me while you had the chance. Or is there a dick in permanent marker on my face?”

“You wouldn’t have been coherent enough to appreciate it,” Lando teased as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. “I told you this last night and I know you’re lonely, but you're looking for love in all the wrong places. You’re not going to find someone who will treat you right in a shitty nightclub when you’re too drunk to even give consent.”

Tears of embarrassment stung your eyes and you swallowed the lump in your throat before climbing off the bed and wrapping the sheet around you. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m not going to take dating advice from the guy who clearly isn’t happy in his own relationship.”

There would be no way to erase the image of how hurt he was by the words so you turned your back and left the room, grabbing your damp dress from the dryer and pulling it on. Thankfully your shoes were beside the door so you swiped them up as you left, the heels dangling from your fingers as you pushed through the sickening feeling and left the hotel to break into a run.

People stared in the street, some even pulled out their phones when they recognised you but there would be no autographs. You focused on your breathing, focused on the cold slap of your bare feet on the pavement, focused on anything but the look in Lando’s eyes.

“Where the fuck were you!” Max shouted as you reached your room and found him already there, rising from one of the armchairs like the godfather. “I have been worried sick.”

“Jesus, you sound like Jos when you shout. Relax before you have a heart attack and leave me with no competition.”

“You’re more likely to lose your seat the way you’re going, and leave me without any competition.”

“Dream on, I just had a moment.”

Max cocked an eyebrow up and crossed his arms. “Yeah, and what was last weekend and the one before that?”

You sucked your teeth at the reminder and dropped your shoes to the floor. “That wasn’t my fault, I didn’t start the prank war. And I really didn’t think the smoke bomb would set off all of the sprinklers, just the one in Charles’ room. Plus, I paid for the damages and repairs.”

“Throwing money around doesn’t mean you can act like a spoiled brat,” he said as he fell back into the armchair. 

“I am not a spoiled brat,” you growled. “I didn’t grow up with money like you and Vicky. I was the dirty little secret, just a bi-product of Jos' affair, that had to scrounge around for second hand parts just so I could have a working kart. So, fuck you, I’m allowed to enjoy the money I have earned.”

“And what about your mother? Do you think she doesn’t see those videos going viral of you drunk out of your mind, letting some klootzak take body shots off you? Does that make her proud?”

Fire burned deep in your gut as you felt attacked from all sides and the angry words spilled over before you could stop them, “I hate you.” Your feet stomped across the carpet to swipe your phone up from beside your stunned brother before you grabbed your backpack from the race which still had your passport and wallet inside. "I never needed a big brother, so you can stop fucking trying and just leave me alone."

“Where are you going?” he asked as he watched you head to the door. “The plane doesn’t leave until this afternoon.”

“Fuck you and fuck your plane. I’ll find my own way home.”

There was only one person you knew you could always count on, the first teammate you had when you made it into F1, and you were already dialling his number as you walked out of the hotel in tears.

“Pierre,” you sobbed as he answered. “I need you.”

Click here for part three.

[insomniasdelusion]

Nicknames————————————

(2012)

Leo to you.

-’Love’

-’Pretty’

-’Princess’

-’my one and only’

I honestly believe Leo wouldn’t be to big on nicknames although he does like the ones you have for him, only really using them in intimate moments or private situations.

On the occasion he may use them to tease when he’s not being his serious, leader self.

Although he does adore calling you princess, it makes him feel warm knowing he was your knight, the one to keep you safe.

You to Leo.

-‘Fearless’

-‘sapphire’

-‘handsome’

-‘my knight’

Hearing you say my knight, my protector, anything of the sorts always makes Leo swoon. He loves knowing someone needs him, sees that he can help. It also soothes the part of his brain that always says he needs to be there, to keep you and his family safe. So you acknowledge what he does never fails to put a smile on his face.

*_*

Donnie to you.

-‘Dove’

-‘Baby’

-‘sweetheart’

-‘mine’

-‘my heart’

In all honesty, Donnie has always been a sucker for nicknames, they just make him happy. He’s always using Baby and Sweetheart, they just kinda fall naturally from his lips.

My heart and Mine, those usually are uttered in more soft, private settings. Days that he just wants to hold you, feel the warmth of your body heat resting against his colder skin. His hands resting on the small of your back, leaned against his work chair, big doe maroon eyes bore into yours. He was glad you gave him a chance, that you listened to him, that you stick with the him through everything.

Because for once you made him feel like the first choice.

You to Donnie.

-‘pretty boy’

-‘brainiac’

-‘purple’

-‘insomniac’

-‘my amethyst’

Some of these nicknames are meant for teasing, although who could resist? He knew that each one was full of love, only gently poking at him, and it wasn’t like a few of them were incorrect.

Donnie loves being called amethyst by you, at first it had always confused him. Sure, purple was his color but the gem you called him just didn’t click?

The day you had explained it, he loved hearing the words fall from your lips, knowing it meant that he in a way was the most precious thing to you. That in your eyes he was worth those silly little purple gems and so, so much more.

*_*

Mikey to you.

-‘babes’

-‘pizza pie’

-‘snookums’

-‘cutie’

-‘hunny buns’

Those would be the ones Mike uses the most he has many, many, more. mostly to also annoy his older brothers with overly sugar sweet names that only a.. newly together high school couple would use-

Although he does love you dearly, he can’t help but be goofy, it was in his nature! Only wanting to make you chuckle or just crack a smile, he will be over the moon if you do it back.. his brothers may or may not be planning both of your demise’s.

You to Mikey.

-‘sillystring’

-‘pookie bear’

-‘gumdrop’

-‘jelly’

-‘my dear’

You have about as many names for him as he does for you, mostly just being silly with it. He loves you for it! It’s definitely the highlight of his days, so much he would even share his pizza when you come by the lair.

He’s so happy to have someone to be silly with, and to torture his brothers.

*_*

Raph to you.

-‘babydoll’

-‘spitfire’

-‘honey’

He doesn’t use a lot of nicknames, usually sticking to simple things. He also just loves your name, he repeats it in his head constantly like a broken record.

He calls you spitfire more often than not when you’re being sassy or acting like a brat, the other two are just common little nicknames.

You to Raph.

-‘Raphie’

-‘teddy bear’

-‘tough guy’

-‘handsome’

Same with Leo, you call Raph Handsome, it helps boost his ego! Just don’t do it all the time, his heads already big/j.

He only lets you call him teddy bear and Raphie when you two are alone, he doesn’t want any of the others to over hear you. He loves hearing you call him that though, it makes his head fuzzy in a good way.

[storiesfromafan]

He's My Husband, I'm His Wife - Benny x Reader

A/N: Alright, I am back with a follow up to She's A Spitfire, after a comment from @redwitchbitch1 :) I have also got another 2 parts in mind, I may have dropped the names in my Master List haha.

I wrote this last night while watching The Crow and Beetlejucie, in anticipation of the new movies coming out in the next few weeks. I was also listening to Sabrina Carpenter's new album too while writing.

Warnings: a few swear words, sass, bitchyness and a bit of petty.

Six weeks. Forty-two days. One thousand and eight hours. That’s how long you’d known Benny before you became Mrs Cross. A whirl wind of a romance. Yet it felt completely right. From the bike ride after dealing with Troy, to Benny popping the question a few days ago while taking a ride just for the fun of it, and everything in-between. It’s like Benny was your drug of choice – and you his – and neither could get enough.

When you weren’t working at your hairdresser job, Benny was there, picking you up or taking you wherever you or he wanted. You’d go with him to Vandal meetings, drink and play pool at the bar, picnic’s. Even spend days in bed, wrapped around each other. How someone felt so right in such a short time was beyond you and him, but you both embraced it. Which is why Benny wanted to seal it with making an honest woman of you, his woman. Now and forever how long you’d have him.

Your wedding day had been something to see. Nothing fancy. You in a while baby doll dress that came to your knees, white go-go boots and a short white vail, just for laughs. Benny wore a button up shirt, jacket with his colors, black jeans and dirty boots. You didn’t need him to be in a suit or tux, for Benny looked good in anything, even better in nothing. It was a simple courthouse wedding, as many Vandals in attendance that the place could hold. But the main ones where up front; Johnny, Brucie, Cal, Corky, Wahoo, Danny – who didn’t miss a beat taking photo’s – etc. Along with their respected others too. You didn’t have anyone on your side, and you couldn’t care less.

“Do you Benjamin Cross” – there were snickers from most of the men upon hearing Benny’s full name, but he didn’t care – “take (Y/N) (L/N), to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her, forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?” the Minister asked.

Benny, holding your hands, looked you right in the eye, never wavering. “I do”.

The Minister then asked you; “do you (Y/N) (L/N) take Benjamin Cross to be your wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor him, and keep him, forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?”

You looked into Benny’s eyes, not wavering either, as you held his hands firmly. “Oh, I do”.

Your groom smirked at how confident you were. He knew this was it, for the both of you. No one else. This was end game. Now and always. Plain and simple.

Next was rings, or rather a ring. You didn’t expect Benny to wear a ring, but you wanted one. A simple band would be enough for you, to show whomever that you were taken. Benny made sure to get you a band with a stone in it, he’d promised you something better later on but you told him that this band was enough, it was perfect, as it was from him. Before slipping the ring on your finger, he made sure to place a kiss upon that finger, a symbol of his affection. And then that band locked it into place.

With a few more words, which you both didn’t pay mind too, as all you were focused on was each other. Drinking in this moment. Savoring how you both felt joy, excitement and contentment. Only coming back when you may now kiss the bride was spoken by the Minister.

Without skipping a beat, Benny pulled you to him by your locked hands. One hand moving you cup your cheek before leaning down and claiming your lips in a firm, but loving kiss. The cheers from the Vandals gracing your ears, bringing a giddiness to you. As you pulled apart, you both chuckled at the men.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife” declared the Minister.

With that, and a few legal formalities, Benny led you from the courthouse with you under his arm, while numerous Vandals patted him on the back. Outside the courthouse you all gathered around, with you and your husband in the center. There was talking, joking and lots of laughter. If you had a dollar for every time a Vandal called you Benny’s ball ‘n chain, you’d be sitting pretty, or have enough for a decent honey moon.

Eventually it was time to move on, the club deciding to take a long ride. Giving Benny a bright smile, your husband led you to his bike, that sported a few cans tied with string. He got onto the bike, kick starting it without a problem. Holding out his hand, Benny helped you get on the bike behind him. And waited patiently for you to tuck your dress under you, so it wouldn’t fly about or flash anyone. Once set, you wrapped your arms around your husbands waist, hands gripping the shirt over his firm stomach.

“All set wife?” Benny asked with amusement.

You moved up and placed a kiss upon his cheek. “I’m peachy, husband”.

With that, Benny pulled away from the curb, along with all other Vandals after. He held back so that Johnny could take the lead, and off you all went. With the wind in your hair, vail flying behind you, you threw your small bouquet without a care in the world. That was the start of the next chapter in your life. Only if you’d known a part from a past chapter was to come back in the future, you would have made sure to write it out.

A few weeks later...

It was a beautiful sunny day. And with such lovely weather; the Vandals, their significant others, your husband and you had showed up to a car show two towns over. You noticed the stares the Vandals got from those that didn’t ride, but chose cars. They didn’t look too pleased, but weren’t brave enough to say anything. Along with them were other biker clubs. They were more welcoming, as they understood the life of a motorcycle rider.

You were seated with a few of the other partners of Vandals, enjoying the sun with a drink. Talking about your significant others; the good, the bad and the ugly. You’d even talked about the small honey moon you and Benny took. It was just a weekend away, but it’s not like you’d left your room or anything. You both enjoyed your little wedded bubble. Taking every moment to say husband, wife and Mrs Cross. The last being Benny’s favorite. He loved you being his wife. He loved you. Just as much as you loved him.

You looked to your gorgeous husband, as he stood around with Corky, Wahoo and Danny. They were all talking, probably all bullshit of some level. Benny was smiling that melting smile of his, eyes shining with humor at whatever Danny said. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. And it all happened on a similar day to today. If you’d hadn’t put yourself on show, would your panty dropping, now husband have noticed you? You weren’t too sure. But oh so glad he had.

“Ain’t you over the honey moon faze yet!?” Laughed Betty, as she playfully slapped your arm.

You turned to look at her, with a bright smile. “Nope. Doubt I ever will with my husband. He really sparks my spark-plug”. You wiggled your eyebrows, the women around you laughing.

“Give it time, the novelty will wear out” she replied shaking her head.

You looked back to Benny. “Hmm, no chance of that happening”.

Sensing he was being watched, Benny looked around only to find your eyes locked on to him. A dreamy, yet confident smile upon those luscious lips he’s kissed and bit numerous times. Among other things those lips had done to him and his body. Just the thoughts that crossed Benny’s mind, had him wanting to drag you off and away from prying eyes. But he had to behave himself, even just for a while. A pleasant smirk graced his face as he shot you a wink. Which only made you smile bigger. Yes, Mrs Cross was everything he needed. After the club, of course.

How did he get so lucky? Benny didn’t know. But wasn’t going to question it. He took a stab in the dark when he spoke to you a few months ago. Nor did he expect something that seemed to be fun at the time, would lead to him being married and over the moon with you. He loved his spitfire wife. He loved the sass, and he loved the lack of filter you have. It had made the time with you the more fun. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

You got up from your spot, saying you had to use the restroom. Crossing the open grass area, you headed to the public restrooms. After a short wait, you finally relieved yourself before washing your hands. Just as you were about to head back you heard your name being called. The voice sounding familiar. Turning to your left you spotted the person; Pam.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” you said with a genuine smile. Beside all the drama the last time, Pam was the nicer of the three women you once socialized with.

“I was about to say the same” she laughed. You both briefly hugged.

“How ya been?” You asked.

Pam sigh. “Yeah, same old. How about you?”

By now you both began to walk the way you’d come. “A lot has happened” you replied, about to continue before spotting two more familiar faces; Dani and Becky.

Pam noticed where you were looking, her smile dropping and a look of unease cross her face. “Maybe we should move somewhere else” she said with worry. “They weren’t too happy after that day...”

Unfortunately you both were spotted by the two women. They looked unimpressed before striding over to you and Pam. They plastered on fake smiles. Greeting them, they replied, and you shared a quick awkward hug with them. Just because they seemed icy, didn’t mean you had to be. You made your choice, and it was the best thing ever. And you couldn’t wait to rub it in their faces.

“Wow, haven’t seen you in, what – ages?” Becky said like the mean girls from high school. “Who would have thought we’d run into each other!”

You held it together, stopping your eyes from rolling. “I know! I’ve been busy with Benny and work” you replied just like her. “We were bound to run into each other, I’d have just hoped it would have been years from now”.

Poor Pam, she looked so uncomfortable. But you weren’t going to back down to these two harpies. Looking back at the time with them, you could see how fake they had been with you. So now you were going to give them it back ten fold.

“Oh, so you’re still with the Vandal, huh?” Questioned Dani, crossing her arms and popping her hip. “Thought either you’d dump him or he’d have found another chick by now, of course the later more so”. She and Becky chuckled.

You gave them a bright smile. “Sorry to burst your bitch bubbles, but we’re still together. Even better then ever really”. The look that crossed your face was like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh? Whys that, huh?” Becky asked curiously.

Without missing a beat, you drew forward your hand that held your wedding band. “He was man enough to lock me down. And it’s been the best decision I’ve made”.

Shock crossed their faces, with a touch of envy. You stood taller, feeling absolutely wonderful at their reactions. You watched as they tried to process it all. Their mouths opening before closing. Ha, take those apples, you thought feeling elated.

“Congratulations!” Pam said genuinely happy for you.

That seemed to snap Dani and Becky out of their short circuited moment. They stood stiff, putting on a cool, uncaring look upon their face, though it was obviously far from how they were feeling.

“Let us guess, it was a shot gun wedding?” Becky said snidely. “He knocked you up, right?”

Dani laughed at her friends words, while Pam protested it all.

You laughed. “Oh no, he hasn’t knocked me up. But I’d gladly give that man a kid if he asked. But till then I am thoroughly lovin’ the practice”. You smirked when they shot you a dark look.

Dani scoffed. “Of course you enjoy being on your back, a whore does”.

“You’d know, right?” You retorted, earning a growl from the woman.

You thought Dani was about to go you, and would have welcomed it, even if it would have been two on one. You could have taken them, easily. But instead a man came up, wrapping his arms around Dani, face moving to rest in the crook of her neck and shoulder. Her hands automatically coming to rest over his.

“Mmm, I wondered where ya went” came another familiar voice. When they lifted their head, you were greeted to Troy. Dani smirked with satisfaction.

Oh how you wanted to laugh in her face. But decided against it. Let her think she’s got one up on you. It will make bringing her down all the more sweeter. Troy noticed the woman in his hands not paying him any mind, turning his head he was greeted to the sight of you. His face fell, a blank look upon his face.

“(Y/N)” was all he said. No hello or anything.

“Troy” you replied.

“I just ran into (Y/N), babe, and we’ve just been catchin’ up” Dani said coolly, leaning back into your ex.

You clicked your tongue. “Huh, see you’ve moved on. Hopefully poor Sam wasn’t too heartbroken by this” you mused, unfazed.

“He’s fine” Troy said, tightening his hold on Dani.

You nodded. “That’s good. He still part of your club?”

“No, he handed in his colors...a little after this” he said gesturing to them.

“Mhmm. Alright, guess he got rid of two lots of trash” you said offhandedly. That hit a nerve.

Troy glared at you. “What was that?”

Back with Benny; he had been sitting with Johnny and Zipco. All three in conversation when he had seen you walking with one of your old friends. You looked happy, having a good time catching up. But then it changed when the other two showed up. He continued to keep any eye on you while talking and drinking his beer.

He knew you would hold your own with those women, so he had nothing to worry about. It was when Johnny said his name, did he look at the Vandals leader.

“Huh?” He asked putting his beer bottle on his bike.

Johnny lifted his head in your direction, worry on his face. “Might want to go to your wife, she might need ya”.

Confused, Benny turned to be greeted with Troy holding one of the women facing you. The scene looked a little stiff and painful. Getting up from his bike Benny kept his eyes on Troy, more then anything because he didn’t trust the guy.

“Yeah, I’ll be over there. Thanks for the heads up” Benny said, before slowly making his way to you.

“We’ll keep an eye out, if ya need us we'll be there” called Johnny. Benny just nodded his head.

He kept his eyes trained on the scene before him. Watching how Troy reacted to you, and eventually he could hear the conversation, coming in as you called them trash. That was his girl. He smiled at that no filter of yours. But he would be there if you needed protecting. Benny would always step in and guard you.

“Oh, trash?” You asked tilting your head. “I wasn’t clear? Sorry. I was implying – it means strongly suggest the truth – that you and Dani were the trash, and Sam leaving, got rid of you both. Ya follow?”

Benny smirked, shaking his head.

Troy and Dani, flustered, tried to sputter out a comeback but failed. You smiled wider at this. Knowing it was best to join you, Benny stepped up to you, wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you close as he planted a kiss to your cheek. Recognizing your husband from his hold and smell, you chuckled at him.

“Benny!” You squealed, grabbing his hand that rested on your stomach.

“Hey baby” he said sweetly in your ear. “Found ya”.

You knew that meant he’d seen what’s going on. And was here in case you needed him. You turned to face him, looking into his baby blues, silently thanking him. Before leaning up and kissing his full lips.

“Yes, ya found me, hubby” you replied sweetly, left hand coming up to caress his cheek.

You didn’t see Troy’s face, but the shock in his voice when he spoke told you everything you needed to know. “What the fuck?! Hubby?!”

You turned your gaze from Benny, a look of fake confusion on your face. “Sorry?”

Troy scowled, as he released Dani and moved forward. “Hubby?!”

You looked to Benny and then back to Troy. “Oh!” You turned your body forward, extending your left hand to Troy.

He looked down at your hand, seeing the band on your ring finger. He looked confused, before realization washed over his stupid face. “What the fuck! What’s this!”

You smiled contently. “It’s a wedding band” you replied simply. “It means he’s my husband, I’m his wife”. You said it slowly and clearly. Only infuriating the man before you further.

“I get that! By why him!?” Troy said in a raised voice.

Looking to your husband, you gave him the brightest, warm smile while staring into his beautiful blue eyes. Benny returning your smile right back at you. “Isn’t it obvious? Benny’s perfect”.

Feeling prideful, Benny lent down and planted a loving, knee weakening kiss on your lips. That was him telling you he felt the same about you. He wasn’t one to always say what he was thinking or feeling, but happily showed you it. And right now he was, along with everyone else watching.

Pulling back, he saw that twinkle of mischief in your eyes. Here it comes, that unfiltered mouth of yours. You turned back to Troy, Dani and Becky, shoulders squared as you stared them down. Now to really hit them where it hurt.

“Beside, Benny’s the best ride I’ve had” you said matter-of-factly. “Both on his bike and off”.

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Troy made a move to go for you, thankfully Benny anticipated it. He managed to move you back and stepped in front of you. He grabbed at Troy’s jacket, as the other man grabbed Benny’s. The women moved back as both of them held onto the other and pushed, trying to push the other back or over onto the ground.

Dani and Becky were calling out for Troy, trying to get him to stop. You should do the same, but you knew it was pointless. Troy had made a move to put his hands on you. That triggered red in your husband. So now all he saw was red. And it wouldn’t go away till he was happy with Troy on the ground and bloody.

Benny removed a hand, only to swing his fist to Troy’s face. It made hard contact with his cheek, sending the males head to the side. Yet neither let go of the other. Once more Benny striked, making contact. This time Troy stepped back, grip going slack. Which was enough for Benny to push him and have Troy release his hold. From there Troy took swings at your husband, a couple making contact. It was back and forth with them. They scrapped around, Benny tackling the man to the ground.

They rolled around, going back and forth with blows. All the while the women screamed, more people noticing the pair and coming closer. Included were some of the Vandals; Johnny, Zipco and Cal standing front and center. They were keeping an eye on the pair ready to pry them apart if it got too much.

Finally Benny ended up on top of Troy. Hard blow after blow to his face. Blood – from Troy or your husband – covering the man on the ground. Benny looked wild, uncontrollable as he waled on your ex. Finally Johnny and Zipco pulled Benny from on top of Troy, taking pity on the guy, who had gone up against their friend. Benny struggled against the two, but with words from Johnny, a bit of a flash from the past, Benny began to settle. Breathing heavy he spat out some blood to the side, eyes still watching the man on the ground.

Dani rushed to Troy’s side, worry on her face as she touched his face. He groaned, telling you that he was still alive, unfortunately. You watched them and thought they deserved each other. One bad apple with another.

You moved to Benny’s side, both Johnny and Zipco releasing their friend when you came to him. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, drawing his attention to you. He was still trying to catch his breath when he shot you a bright, victorious smile. You smiled, shaking your head. This man, he was just as bad as you. You with your mouth, and him with his fists. The pair you made was crazy, but in a perfect way.

You grabbed your husbands arm and started to pull him back to his bike, but looked back to Pam. “Sorry about this Pam. It was nice to see ya. Maybe we could catch up for coffee, or a drink sometime?”

She looked at you in shock, before coming somewhat back to the present. “Ah, sure?”

You smiled at her and said you would. From there you led your brave husband, followed by Vandals, back to your spot. You had Benny rest against his bike while you fetched some water, cloth and something to wrap his hands with. Once back with supplies, you cleaned and wrapped his hands, knuckles split from the beating he’d given. From there you moved to clean his beautiful face, which was starting to discolor. Meaning he’d had a fee shiners for a while. Nothing new really. What were a few shiners and some blood? Nothing new to you.

You were mindful when cleaning his split lip, hands gentle when wiping and applying pressure. While you worked away, Benny watched you closely. He wondered if you might be upset with him to some extent. He knew, you knew that he’d step in if needed. But he wasn’t sure if you were fine that he beat the shit out of your ex. On some level you might have still cared for the guy.

You cupped Benny’s cheeks with your hands, eyes moving to look into his deeply, searching. “Ya alright baby?” You asked softly, just between you both.

That brought him back. “Yeah, I am baby”.

You smiled softly at him, planting a soft kiss to his lips, being careful of the cut. “You sure? You looked deep in thought”.

Benny slowly nodded. “Just...you ain’t mad with me, are ya? For how far I took if with your ex?”

You looked at him, eyes blinking a few times. “No Benny, why would I? You stepped in to protect me, baby. I’m more proud then anythin’”. You smiled brightly, lovingly at your husband.

Benny sighed, a relieved smile washing over his lips. “Good. I was worried you’d be mad. As ya got history with the guy-”

You cut him off. “That’s just it, history. It’s in the past. You are my present and future. I’m your wife, wholeheartedly”.

Benny pulled you to him, hugging you closely, face resting in the crook of your neck. How could you know what to say to make him so happy? You giggled wrapping your arms around your man, holding him tightly. Knowing he needed reassurance you were his, and no one else’s. And you always would be.

You ran your hand through the hair at the base of his neck. “You’re stuck with me Mr Cross, no getting’ rid of me now”.

Benny chuckled, it tickling your skin, before pulling back and staring deeply into your eyes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Mrs Cross”.

He then lent in and kissed you. It was hard, loving and toe curling. And when he deepened it, tongue entering your mouth and dancing with your own, you were a puddle in his arms. The small noises he elected from you was driving him crazy. Finally drawing back for air, Benny rested his forehead against yours. You stared at each other, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. History repeats itself, and you still had Benny there for you. And always will.

“Let’s head home spitfire. I think I need some tender, love and care” Benny whispered huskily in your ear.

You smiled. “Oh, I can do that for you, baby. Anything for my wild, crazy husband”.

A/N: I am still working on my Benny x Tomboy!Reader, I haven't forgotten. Or Cal x Sweet!Reader.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 12

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader warnings: language, minor political/bau issues mentioned/talked about, smut eluded to. We've come back to the chapters that jump through moments in time! This is also the time that you read this, then skim through the series and see if you can pick up on the foreshadowing cause next chapter is what it was leading up to lol. I'm going to crack down and fly through as many chapters in a row of this series while writing and queue them for once a week. LMK if that timeline seems okay or if it should be more frequent or less, I wanna continue that habit for new series!

Heather was seated at one of the window side tables at Peacock Alley inside the Waldorf, a coffee and a bloody mary in front of her while she looked through the menu. Her gaze drifted out the window, wondering if she was there too early, if you were running behind or if it was a combination of both. Just as she was about to check her phone for both the time and conformation, she spotted what she was sure was your car pulling up to the valet.

Sure enough, you slipped out of it, passing the keys and a wad of cash over to the worker with a sweet smile before tossing your bag onto your arm and making your way to the hotel entrance. Her head tilted in confusion but before she could really get lost in her thoughts you had rounded the corner into the lobby restaurant, sunglasses pushed back onto your head as you glanced around in search of her. A small smile took over your lips when you spotted her, hurrying over to the table.

“You’re early.” You greeted, placing your purse down on the windowsill as you slipped into your seat.

Heather shrugged, “she got clingy, I kicked her out before she could start begging for room service and the girlfriend treatment.”

You nearly snorted, shaking you head at the other woman, “I didn’t realize you were entertaining.”

“Rob’s out of town, both the kids are on campus, you were occupied so I was bored.” She replied, picking up her coffee for a sip when the waiter came over to start you on your own drinks and you figured you may as well match Heather.

“Thought your go to place was the Conrad.” You asked, settling in as your drinks were dropped off and you could take a couple of sips.

“It is. But she was brand new and I wanted to be cautious, figuring we were meeting here in the morning I made it convenient.” She took a sip of her coffee, a brow raised in your direction, “which is why I’m particularly curious as to why you were pulling up to the valet instead of coming from the elevator.”

“I came from home.”

“Did we not plan to meet here for as little hassle as possible? We could have just met at my place if your date fell through.”

“It didn’t fall through.” Your brow scrunched, not able to get an immediate reply from Heather as the waiter came over to take your orders. You opting for a quinoa power bowl while she went with the mushroom and asparagus omelet.

“Did you change hotels?” Heather asked as the waiter left the table.

“No.” You shook your head, “we were at her place.”

“Oh?” She asked with slightly wide eyes and you laughed.

“Emily’s sick of not sleeping in her own bed. And to be completely honest I was getting bored of hotel life too.” You glanced up to catch the look on her face and you rolled your eyes, “Heather, this isn’t like one of us is some money hungry twenty something who’s going to go psychotic when the other one won’t leave her husband for her. Not everything mimics your life experiences.”

“So you’re not getting all domesticated on me?” She asked with a smirk, “because I need that wild, spitfire woman for work.”

“No.” You nearly grimaced, “we’re still going out for fancy dinners and shit, the sex is just occurring in a different environment and with a plethora of more toys.”

“Mmm.” She replied over a sip of her bloody mary, “so whose place were you at last night?”

“Hers.”

“You stay over?”

“Yes.”

“Careful.” She chided.

“What?” You asked her, your nose scrunching in confusion and she simply chuckled.

“Never mind.” She took another sip of her coffee, “you know… I saw Jackie the other day.”

“Not a surprise considering your line of work.” You replied, hoping the sudden heat on your cheeks wasn’t as present as it felt. “How is she?”

“Had one hell of a hickey on her neck… said she finally got around to having some good fun a couple of weeks ago.”

“Good for her.” You bluffed.

“Huh.” Heather clicked her tongue.

“What?” You huffed, wanting to move onto the next subject.

“Were you too drunk or too horny to realize that it was my main driver who picked you up from the club?” She smirked over the rim of her glass, “and to think you didn’t even bother to call me.”

“Heather it was nearly five in the morning.” You replied dryly, “besides, you always have to be in control of everything, you get power hungry in group situations, dynamic never would have worked.”

“Oh…” there was a devilish grin on her lips as she leant back in her chair, “so tell me then… did they gang up on you or was poor Jackie your little play toy?”

“Please.” You laughed, your voice quieting, “you know that’s what she prefers.”

“Tell me more.” With a smirk, she leant in, her elbow on the table, chin propped up in her hand.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, eyeing her up, “but I guess now would be the time to point out that hickey on your neck…”

“What?” Heather’s hand shot to her neck, gently prodding at the skin until she found the sensitive spot, “fucking brat. I told her no marks!”

“And that’s why you’ve got to make better choices.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair, “I’m careful to not leave marks.”

“That’s because you don’t bite hard enough.” She nearly scowled, digging into her purse to pull out a compact and do the best coverage job she could in the meantime.

You were left laughing, the topic finally diminishing as food was swiftly delivered. Heather, having had enough of being prodded and teased slid the compact back into her purse and picked up her fork.

“How are we doing for next week’s assembly?”

“I’ve got Harris, Tart and Durant set up for speakers, Ashley’s been finishing shirts, banners, badges and stickers and Colton’s been going door to door every day this week.”

“Good.” She took a bite of food, “where are we with backing from Underwood?”

“Working on it. He’s been out of State so often it’s been hard enough to track him or Claire down even for a phone call. I’ll get there soon, I promise.”

“Good girl.”

**

While your dates continued around the city, it almost felt like you had more freedom when you weren’t trying to stay in or near a specific hotel. Dinner or drinks could be closer to your place or Emily’s, wandering the waterfront on the way back to her apartment. While things were a little more comfortable, there were still some unspoken rules that the two of you simply continued to follow.

Emily always made sure the payment was sent to you within an hour of a date ending, whether that be midnight or eight in the morning the next day. You kept your dates limited to weekends, both to keep things on a running schedule and to try and avoid crossing over with work. Staying the night wasn’t required, it never had been in the hotels, especially if one of you knew you had a busy week and wanted a day to prepare for it or decompress from the weekend. There was nothing in the contract about cuddles and sweet dreams, it was about sex, enough aftercare that everyone was alright and money. There were nights you were too wiped to move, falling asleep before Emily could even fully check in with you and there were other nights that once you’d caught your breath, you were dressed and out the door. Emily would admit she did enjoy spending the nights in your bed, but she still missed her own just as much and if she was willing to drive at the late hour, she was pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek and heading home to it.

Some mornings you’d wake up tangled in each other’s limbs and take the time for some lazy morning sex, which usually ended up leading straight into round two, three or more as you fully woke up. Other mornings you would wake up to the sound of the shower, Emily prodding your side what felt like seconds later with a to go coffee cup and you were on your way home straight away.

Coffee was where it ended, there was never breakfast, never brunch or dilly dallying as you talked about your plans for the rest of the weekend. It was a quick shower, a coffee in a cardboard cup and an ‘I’ll call you’ to set up your next date. While you had dinner or drinks most nights, they were had out, it was never homecooked, no dancing around each other in the kitchen while you put together a meal. Bottles of wine were often left forgotten on the coffee table as Emily made a home between your legs, bringing you to your peak over and over again until you were tugging her off you to return the favour.

Emily’s apartment was normally your setting, her toy collection happened to be more extensive than yours and it seemed like there was always something new to discover and play with. It also helped her keep a semblance of control in her mind, you may have been playing this game for months now, but she was still wrapping her brain around exactly how things worked. She was still new to it, learning the ropes as she went and she wanted to make sure she was doing her best. When she was in her own apartment, it was her surroundings, she knew every nook and cranny and felt more relaxed and able to take control.

The lines were still in place, even if there was a change of scenery.

**

Emily heard an all to familiar beeping interrupting her dreams and she rolled onto her side, scrunching her eyes briefly in an attempt to keep them shut and regain whatever sleep she still had left in her. You coffee always auto brewed and most mornings the two of you ignored it if you wanted to sleep in or have a morning session before parting ways. A chill ran through the room and she let out a small shiver, shifting to pull the covers tighter around herself and was surprised at just how easily she suddenly had the entire duvet in her hands.

Begrudgingly cracking her eyes open she looked around the room, it was still dark, sunrise being later and later as the city sunk fully into autumn. Rolling onto her back she was able to assess that you definitely weren’t in bed with her, the bathroom light was off but the fan was on, a likely sign you’d had a shower and started your day already. The second sign being that your pyjamas were strewn over one of the chairs across from the bed, your phone absent from the nightstand.

She knew that you were likely letting her sleep until you absolutely had to kick her out, but the exhausted part of her was really hoping maybe this was a quick thing and you’d come back to bed. She perked up when a light at the bottom of the stairs flicked on, her ears picking up the sound of your voice. Either someone was over or you were on the phone, but either way you sounded far less than pleased.

Letting out a soft sigh she pushed up to sitting, stretching out her body and rubbing at her eyes as she willed herself out of bed and into the cool morning air. She tiptoed quietly over to the door, if you did have a house guest this early, you likely didn’t need them knowing that you’d had overnight company. After listening for a couple of minutes she determined that you were definitely on the phone, there was barely any time for someone else to get a word in and whenever they did, downstairs was silent aside from the pacing of your heels or sound of coffee brewing. Emily crossed the room again, quickly getting redressed and collecting her things, quietly making her way down the staircase to the main floor, finding you with your back to her.

“Patterson I swear to god if you hang up on me— Yes! I already know that. He doesn’t need a parent or guardian if he’s of age. Did he ask you to call her? No. Exactly—What did I just say? Like hell you need to print him! You’re not just toeing the line you’re by far crossing it! Don’t think I know you just want him booked to get your name all over the press, I’ll have your fucking badge.” A slight pause while you pinched at the bridge of your nose, a voice chattering on the other side of the line, “no. Of course I don’t think you’re just going to toss him back out onto the street. Mr. Dalton is already on his way down there to make sure you don’t think about breaking any other rules or laws and believe me I’ll be making a trip down there myself to talk to your Captain.” Hanging up the phone you dropped it to the island, stopping to take a hefty swig of coffee, “fuck.”

You finally turned back to the island, dropping onto a stool and pulling your laptop toward you, movement out of the corner of your eye causing you to glance up, jolting slightly as you realized Emily was on the same floor as you.

“Shit, sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it.” She replied, smiling softly as she stepped into the room. You made a noise, gesturing toward the empty to go coffee mug beside the coffee pot and she took the hint, mixing it to her liking. “Anything I can help with?”

You nearly snorted, glancing up to her, “morally, ethically and legally? No.”

“Oh…kay…” She took a sip of the coffee to make sure it was right before popping the lid on and you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Jordan got picked up for a drunk and disorderly last night.”

“Jordan?”

“Heather’s son.” You grimaced.

“Ah.” She nodded, suddenly more than well aware the severity of the situation, “DUI?”

“Luckily he didn’t get that far. But this fucking prick Patterson… fucking white shield who thinks he’s hot shit…” you grumbled, “he pays paparazzi to follow around teenage and older kids of politicians, especially at bars or parties. Tips them off to whenever he knows security is escorting them, they get the pictures, he gets to swoop in and make a couple of bullshit arrests, they split the bank. He thinks its gonna be his way up the chain.”

“Sounds like a piece of shit.”

“He is.” You mumbled, “and now I get to spend the rest of the weekend putting out fires and trying to keep this out of the press and away from Heather. Lord knows she’ll only lose her shit and knowing Jordan he’ll turn something flammable into an explosion. I—” you were cut off by your phone ringing and you immediately picked it up, “Yeah? I don’t care that it’s only five in the morning, the car is coming to the back entrance and you are to get Jordan into it without a single soul seeing him. Drive him back home, make sure he’s in the guest house, I’ll call Rob.”

Emily picked up her coffee cup, tapping on the island to gather your brief attention, giving you a little wave thank you for the coffee and to let you know she was saying goodbye. All things considered the best option for her right now was to get out of your hair.

**

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Getting an early or overnight call for a case on a Saturday morning was already annoying as is, but this was linked to one of the cases they had been working on that week. Meaning the call was Penelope saying she’d found an out of state connection and everyone was to be at the jet in thirty. While Emily’s go bag was in the car, it only had enough outfits for a few days and the one she’d worn the night previous certainly wasn’t Section Chief appropriate.

“Take whatever you need.” You sleepily waved in the direction of your closet, flicking on the bedside lamp before rolling over and going back to sleep as she began to rummage through your clothes.

Emily made it to the jet just in the nick of time, dropping her bag and managing to grab a coffee and bottle of water before settling into an empty seat across from Tara. She could feel the other woman’s eyes on her, examining the outfit choice and she shifted in her seat, the shirt was definitely a little snug around her chest but it was the best option she could find quickly.

“That’s a nice colour.” Tara complimented, “looks really good on you.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks.”

“It new?”

“No,” she let out a semi awkward laugh, scrambling to come up with some kind of fib, “kind of old, figured I’d start cleaning out my closet last night, grabbed the first thing I could.” She shuffled in her seat again, tugging the fabric away from her chest before leaning forward to grab a case file, “what’d Garcia find? Do we know what we’re walking into?”

“Second page.” Tara replied, the corner of her lips curving up into a smirk and Emily could feel her cheeks burning pink, feeling like she was back in high school hiding a secret from her mother.

**

You sped through the doorway to Heather’s office, placing a now lukewarm coffee down on her desk as the check in that you were there before briskly turning around and she barely looked up from her laptop.

“Sorry, traffic on the I-395 was a fucking mess. I’ve never seen so many accidents this early in the morning.”

“It’s getting icy out there.” She replied, her eyes still on the screen in front of her, “turned the heater on in your office, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” You replied with a huff, barely making it to the doorway before the wheels started turning in Heather’s brain and she eyes shot up.

“Hold up!” She called and you froze on the spot, turning back to face her, “you live uptown…”

“Yup…” you nodded, feeling the heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“And if you were coming from the Waldorf you would have taken Pennsylvania.”

“Yes again.” You nodded, nearly gulping. Heather surveyed you for a moment, her eyes narrowing as her lips twitched up into a grin.

“It’s Thursday…”

“You ever heard of wine Wednesday Heather? Zooz has an incredible happy hour and it’s walking distance from Em’s.”

“Hmm.” Her head titled, “must be a nice place.”

“I have work to do.” You began to turn away again, but she called out once more.

“Speaking of, pick a hotel for Sarasota this morning and Elise will book it.”

“I thought we were going to Laguna?”

“They changed locations, something about the right hall not being available.” She shrugged, “at least Florida’s an excuse for a shopping trip.”

“Huh…” your head titled as a grin broke out on your lips, “I could use a new swimsuit.”

“Could always go without one.” She smirked back and you rolled your eyes.

“Very professional.”

“We’ll have a private terrace.” She replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And here I thought I was picking the hotel.”

“You’ll pick something suitable; cost isn’t a concern.” She shrugged, “I’m not going to be slumming it in Florida for a week and not indulge.” Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “hell, why don’t you call Tony, take the afternoon to get some shopping done.”

“He’d love that.” You laughed as you thought it over.

“I’m sure he’s not the only one.” She replied, tilting the screen of her laptop back as her eyes fell back down to it once again, a smirk remaining on her lips.

**

Girl’s night at Garcia’s always meant a couple of cocktails and when Tara had offered to drive, having to be up early the next morning, everyone was on board. JJ was the first drop off, leaving Emily in the front seat with Tara navigating the streets of Washington.

“What is going on with you?” Tara asked, a small laugh leaving her lips as she glanced over at the other woman.

“What?”

“Your nerves are radiating off you and you keep shifting in your seat like a dog that hasn’t figured out if he’s going to the park or the vet.”

She laughed, “it’s nothing. I just went from not really recognizing the street to realizing I’ve got a friend who lives around here.”

Tara glanced at her watch, “it’s not that late, if you wanna make a pit stop or for me to drop you somewhere, I can do that.”

“No, no don’t worry about it.”

“Emily,” she prodded, “c’mon. I can keep a secret.”

“It’s nothing like that!” She swatted at her hand, “just haven’t seen her in a bit.”

“Call her or I’m pulling over the car.”

“I—what?” Her eyes darted up to the other woman who suddenly pulled into the right lane, “okay, okay!”

Your phone began to buzz on your desktop and you let out a soft sigh, thankful for the interruption as you pulled off your glasses, blinking your eyes a few times as you picked it up.

“Walton.”

“Hey, it’s Emily.”

“Oh, hey!” A smile crept onto your face, “what’s up?”

“I.. uh.. I was just in the neighbourhood, figured I’d see if you wanted to grab a drink?”

This sigh you let out this time was much wearier one that Emily could practically feel, “I would absolutely love to but I’m still at the office and likely will be for a few more ours.”

“On a Saturday?”

“Yup.” You exaggerated the word, popping the ‘p’, “bunch of extra tasks on hand this week and we’ve been spread pretty thin. I definitely can’t go anywhere until the boss does.”

“Shit.” She muttered and you reached across your desk for your agenda, flipping through a couple of pages.

“Looks like I can squeeze you in on Tuesday? Probably not ‘til ten at the earliest and I wouldn’t be able to stay.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, the usual weekend is fine.”

“Weekend is all conference prep and we fly out Monday afternoon.”

“I would hate to add to your schedule, we can wait until you’re back.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed softly, “lord knows I could use the relief.”

“Alright.” She chuckled, “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“I’ll call once I’m finished up, let you know when I’m on my way.”

“Sounds good. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Emily dropped her phone with a soft sigh, sliding it back into her pocket, a sense of relief washing over her when Tara pulled back into the left lane and signalled to make the turn towards her original destination.

“I thought you hadn’t seen her in a while?”

“Huh?” Emily’s brow furrowed as she looked up at her.

“’The usual weekend is fine’?” Tara raised an eyebrow, “who have you been meeting up with every week?”

“No one.” She fibbed, sinking deeper into the seat of the car.

“Oh come on Emily.” She laughed, “doesn’t take much to realize you’ve been spending time doing something other than work. You actually don’t reply to non urgent work texts on the weekends anymore, better moods Monday mornings…”

“No profiling the profiler!” Emily protested, punching Tara’s arm, “I thought I was getting a nice ride home, not an interrogation.”

“Okay, okay.”

Tara held up a hand in surrender, shaking her head at the other woman as she pulled up in front of Emily’s building. She said a quick thank you and goodnight, pulling out her phone when she was waiting for the elevator. If you were working this late on the weekend the least she could do was send over some dessert as a pick me up.

__________________

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[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.

As A Dog

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,085

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.

Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.

I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!

Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.

He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.

Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.

"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.

He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.

"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"

She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.

He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.

That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.

The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.

His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.

"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.

Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.

"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.

"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.

The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.

His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.

"Leave him. He'll be fine."

"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.

"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.

"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.

She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.

"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.

"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.

"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.

"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."

That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.

Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.

True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.

When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.

It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.

It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.

The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.

"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."

"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.

"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"

He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.

"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.

The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.

She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.

When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.

For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.

By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.

But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...

And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.

She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.

"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.

He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.

"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.

He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.

"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."

When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.

She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.

"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.

Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.

"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"

He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.

A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.

There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.

Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.

She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.

When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.

Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..

He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.

"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.

Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.

"Prove it."

She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.

"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.

Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.

By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.

It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.

Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.

"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."

His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.

She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.

In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.

The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.

He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.

"Take that shit off."

Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.

"Suck me." he growled.

While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.

The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.

Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.

"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."

She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.

He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.

It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.

He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.

"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.

The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.

Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.

What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.

He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.

On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.

He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.

"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.

This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.

"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.

Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.

"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.

Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.

Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.

She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.

"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.

As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.

He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.

For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.

Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.

Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.

He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.

Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.

He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.

If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.

His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.

"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.

"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."

"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.

"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."

She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.

"Good girl." he murmured.