Birthday II
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: It's your first birthday
Morsa is living in the phone again.
She's a lot smaller when she lives in the phone than when she lives with you and Momma. You think that's kind of weird but there's some cake sitting in front of you so you don't dwell on it for too long.
Today is a special day apparently.
Today is the day that Morsa is supposed to be visiting. It's your birthday too but you're more focused on the first thing rather than the fact that you're getting older now.
Morsa is meant to be coming today but she isn't here yet and now she's stuck in the phone again.
"And here's the birthday girl," Momma says to her," She's about to enjoy her cake."
You look down at your slice of cake. You don't get given cake a lot, especially not fancy cake that has writing and pictures on the top. You don't really care about the stuff on top but you know the cake is fancy because it's there.
You grab a chunk of cake in your fist and raised it to your mouth.
It tastes really nice and you grab more.
"Birthday girl looks very happy," Morsa comments," Is that right? Are you enjoying your cake, princesse?"
You grunt as you shove cake into your mouth.
"She's very much enjoying it," Momma agrees," Birthday girl got spoiled a lot today."
"I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
A match late last evening had Magda unable to fly out yesterday night. She'd booked an early morning flight today, hoping that it meant she could still spend your first birthday with you without missing much.
But she'd gotten to the airport and found her plane delayed. There was no eta and it kept getting pushed back further and further to the point where Magda has to spend your birthday on the phone rather than in person.
The presents in her carry-on feel like weights as she watches you shovel more and more cake into your mouth until your plate is empty.
You're sitting up in your high chair with a beaming smile in a tiny Wolfsburg kit that Magda knows was given as a present to you. A big birthday badge is clipped to the jersey and a discarded birthday hat is sat on the tray next to your now empty cake plate.
It makes her heart ache thinking about how much of this she's missing.
It's just not the same seeing it all through a phone screen.
"My flight should be taking off in a few hours," She tells Pernille as you entertain yourself by picking up the birthday hat and shaking it," I'll probably get to yours around midnight."
She can't see Pernille with the camera on you but Magda's sure she's frowning.
"We can pick you up from the airport," She says," You don't need to get here on your own."
"It'll be too late for Princesse. She still needs sleep."
"Are you sure? I don't mind. She'll fall asleep in the car anyway."
"I'm sure," Magda insists," It's fine. I've got keys. I'll let myself in."
You drop the birthday hat and pout.
"Oh," Pernille chuckles," What's with the long face, princesse? Did you drop your hat?"
You kick your legs impatiently and point at it, whining. You look like you're about to whine more but Pernille places another slice of cake in front of you and suddenly you're distracted again.
You cram as much cake possible into your mouth, smearing your face with crumbs.
The cake is nice but you do feel a little bit cheated. Momma woke you up this morning saying that Morsa would be here to celebrate with you both but it's rapidly approaching bath and bedtime and she's nowhere to be seen.
That's a little mean of her.
It's even meaner of Momma to put you down in your crib and make you sleep before Morsa got here. They're both quite mean today even though it's your birthday and people should be nice to you when it's your birthday.
You wake up the next day ready to let your displeasure at being lied to known to Momma when she comes to grab you.
You don't get the chance to though because someone lifts you out of your crib with a smile and a soft voice.
"What's with the pouty face?" Morsa coos," Is being a one year old really that bad?"
For a moment, in your sleepy haze, you don't recognise her, a big pout and a grumpy look upon your features. Slowly, you blink awake fully and your pout morphs into a big happy smile.
"There she is," Morsa says," There's my happy baby! Look at you, my happy little one year old."
Your legs kick out as Morsa presses soft, ticklish kisses all over your face.
"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, princesse but I brought presents!"
You know that word. After yesterday, you've decided that you really like presents.
You hope Morsa's brought you some good ones.
You giggle.
"Yeah?" Morsa says," You like that? I've got lots of presents for you to open!"
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passion for fashion | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem it girl!reader
she's everything and he's just ken (in a red bull shirt)
MASTERLIST | TIPS | MY SMALL BUSINESS
vogue
liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 490,233 others
tagged: yourusername
vogue: it's the start of the f1 season, you know what that means... y/n y/ln fashion season is in session
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user1: @yourusername make sure you're windows are bolted shut tongiht... you're on my rob list
user2: and mine PLEASE SPARE ME SOME OF YOUR CLOTHES
user3: her and lewis hamilton are the only real ones in that paddock
user4: the way they're still besties despite what went down in 2021 >>>
lewishamilton: me and y/n 🤝 making the paddock our runway
yourusername: someone has to make it interesting around here
lewishamilton: see @maxverstappen1 even y/n is bored of you winning everything...
maxverstappen1: womp womp
lewishamilton: womp womp ???? have some decorum
maxverstappen1: jokes on you i don't know what that means
user5: i wish i looked that good candidly
user6: at what point do we stage an intervention for max's wardrobe
user7: babe if the girlfriend effect still hasn't hit then it's terminal
user8: especially when your girlfriend is Y/N Y/LN
maxverstappen1: i'd do anything for her <3
yourusername: even wear something other than red bull merch?
maxverstappen1: let's not get too far ahead of ourselves
user9: i love them your honour
yourusername
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,445 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: max verstappen wins, water is wet
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user11: water is wet and i will be drowning myself in it tonight
user12: me after hearing the dutch national anthem one too many times
landonorris: tell him he has too many already and he should let his best friend have a go
yourusername: he said that's not possible because i don't know how to drive an f1 car
landonorris: nuh uh you can't be his best friend and his girlfriend that's not fair
maxverstappen1: welp, idk what to tell you buddy
landonorris: i feel BETRAYED
yourusername: i'm sorry i'm just that loveable lando... i see how it is
landonorris: HOW HAVE I BECOME THE VILLAIN?
user13: max terrorises them on the grid and in the paddock they maximise their joint slay to terrorise everyone in a two mile radius
user14: they slay so much i can't even be angry at it
danielricciardo: so that's why i was kicked out of the elevator
yourusername: you weren't kicked out it was your floor?
danielricciardo: why did i not make the post? I THOUGHT I MEANT MORE TO YOU
maxverstappen1: just because we both had teenage crushes on you doesn't make you special. you'd have to fight seb and jenson for real special treatment
yourusername: throw fernando and kimi in there as well.
danielricciardo: i was confident in my fighting chances, but i'll leave nando and kimi to it
maxverstappen1: pussy
danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME
yourusername: idk how we got here but don't talk to my boyf that way daniel 😔
danielricciardo: i'm blocking both of you
user15: i am so baffled
user16: IT couple for real
maxverstappen1
liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,448 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: clocked in for my shift as the trophy husband to the prettiest girl in the world
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user17: max verstappen why is there a whisper meme in your photo dump
user18: his ass acting like he wasn't at one of the most prestigious galas in the world
charles_leclerc: YOU got an invite and that's the best you could do
maxverstappen1: you better take that back right now y/n dressed me tonight and i look SEXY and COOL
yourusername: charles :( he looks very handsome
charles_leclerc: my bad y/n i wasn't aware that was your pick
yourusername: SAY HE'S HANDSOME CHARLES
charles_leclerc: ??? no
yourusername: wow. you really aren't a girls girl charles. i am disappointed
maxverstappen1: does our history mean nothing charles? i have no issue recreating the inchident at the next race
charles_leclerc: FINE. you look very handsome max
yourusername: more passion please
charles_leclerc: you look very handsome max!
yourusername: more! give the lestappen girlies some crumbs to feed on
charles_leclerc: YOU LOOK VERY HANDSOME
maxverstappen1: thank you 😊
user19: ignoring what ever the fuck that was ... MAX IN A SUIT WHAT THE FUCK MAX IN A SUIT
user20: y/n y/ln the woman you are
user21: so how can we implement this willingness to wear a suit into his paddock fashion
lewishamilton: you might have to waterboard him
charles_leclerc: i volunteer as tribute !
yourusername: 🤨
maxverstappen1: 🤨
f1paddockfashion
liked by user24, user25 and 11,029 others
tagged: maxverstappen1 & yourusername
f1paddockfashion: max verstappen in non-red bull attire? MAX VERSTAPPEN IN NON-RED BULL ATTIRE? also y/n slaying as per.
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user24: this is - i don't know how to feel
user25: maybe the real max verstappen in non red-bull attire was the friends we made along the way
user26: i am CELEBRATING but ladies do remember it's still alpha tauri 😭😭😭
user27: please let us have this while we can
user28: it's not plastered with sponsors so we'll take it
user29: idk about you guys but i think this means y/n should be knighted for her services
user30: i actually think prying the red bull merch out of max's hands might be the hardest thing in the world
user31: call me crazy but those jeans look kinda baggy 😳
user32: omg they definitely are
user33: death to the skinny jeans? fuck it first child named after y/n
user34: can we maybe get y/n in charge of max's merch cause the shit he sells should be considered criminal
user35: for real we need babe in the board room asap
user36: fuck it get her in the red bull board room as well
user37: go all the way and get her with the f1 execs
yourusername
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yourusername: i love him even if all he wears is red bull
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user39: so ... who made the inchident shirt?
charles_leclerc: and how do i get one?
maxverstappen1: i got it made and considering you DON'T think i'm handsome you can go fuck yourself :)
charles_leclerc: GASP. that is my face you have to make me one
maxverstappen1: boooooo no i don't
charles_leclerc: can i copyright my face? i'm sending you a cease and desist
maxverstappen1: fine. but you will never look as hot as y/n in it
charles_leclerc: so you can call me ugly? @yourusername ???
yourusername: it was a compliment to me so soz
user40: the way she's fashion's IT girl and she still loves him even though his whole wardrobe should be burned
user41: real love
maxverstappen1: i love you. i wear my red bull merch to give you the runway
yourusername: sureeeee ... i love you too xx
maxverstappen1: let me live 😭😭😭
yourusername: the girls are dragging your name babe i need them to know HOW SEXY YOU ARE
maxverstappen1: i don't care how sexy they find me, as long as you love me that's all i need
yourusername: you're SO FUCKING CUTE I LOVE YOU
maxverstappen1: I LOVE YOU TOO
user42: can they chill? some people on here are lonely
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: my closet looks like this, so her's can look like this :)
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user43: max verstappen i misunderstood you. i was unfamiliar with your game.
user44: he's the standard now i fear
user45: a man who wears the same three outfits so you can have the whole walk-in for your collection >>
yourusername: thank you babe. you are god's strongest soldier
maxverstappen1: i AM. that room is scary. there's too much that i don't understand. so many shoes, so many straps i can't navigate it
yourusername: that's okay baby. there's your red bull draw and that's all you need
maxverstappen1: no the people don't understand. i went in there once and i swear i ended up in narnia
yourusername: you passed out with the AC on the highest level and jimmy and sassy sat on you. you were not in narnia
maxverstappen1: oh. well...
user46: this is the closet y/n deserves the rest of that house is defo a mojo dojo casa house
user47: fighting all the trophies, helmets and framed race suits with her narnia closet
lilymunhe: may i request a trip to the narnia closet x
yourusername: omg yes! come over next time you and alex are in monaco - the boys can entertain themselves
alexalbon: what if i want a closet tour as well?
maxverstappen1: don't do it alex you'll never find your way back out
alexalbon: (i was going to strategically leave a pair of albon athletics shoes in there)
yourusername: alex i already own a pair i bought them release day!
alexalbon: OMG ... one instagram pic so my sales can go platinum?
maxverstappen1: don't try and pimp my gf out
alexalbon: ???
yourusername: max 😭 and sure alex!
fin.
note: thank you for reading soz for the long waits between posts a girl has been BUSY but i hope you've all enjoyed! happy galentines day or palentines day to all that celebrate and thanks for 4.7k!! xx
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01
➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader
➥ word count | 3.7k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb
➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠
there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself
mostly un-beta'd atm
a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!
feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist
Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.
Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.
It’d be easier if they were.
Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.
Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.
Then came the separation.
Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.
And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.
See, war’s something he understands.
But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?
How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?
When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?
He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.
Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.
The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.
Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.
Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.
But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.
See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.
Hell, millions used to scream his name.
Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”
While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.
It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.
Something’s gotta give.
After all, he’s only one man.
But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.
A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.
At first, he kept his distance.
Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.
Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.
Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.
Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.
Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.
So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?
Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?
Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?
What you don’t know can’t hurt you.
After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.
“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”
Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.
“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”
A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”
Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"
“Mnhfmmmm.”
“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”
Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”
Shit.
“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”
Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.
Together they settle with a bounce of springs.
In the open space, you slide in.
The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.
“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”
“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”
“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”
Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.
You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.
“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”
Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.
“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”
“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”
Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.
“... Then pancakes it is.”
As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”
“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”
“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”
She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears.
Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.
“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.
“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”
The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.
After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.
“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”
The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.
A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.
Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.
“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”
Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.
The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.
Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.
When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.
You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.
Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.
Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.
After all, he’s not yours to touch.
Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”
Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”
Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”
Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood.
“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”
He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.
God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.
Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.
“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”
Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.
“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”
“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.
Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.
“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.
Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.
The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.
“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”
“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”
Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”
“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.
Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.
Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.
Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.
But here — with him — you shouldn’t.
Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.
When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”
“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”
Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.
“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”
The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.
He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”
You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.
Greedy.
Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.
However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog.
Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”
Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”
“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“No, that’s not what I --”
He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”
Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”
“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.
Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”
“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”
Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.
Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?
Hell, you even cook and clean!
Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.
Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.
How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.
If he wasn’t so captivating…
“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”
“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”
Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.
When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.
Waiting to see what you'll do.
Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.
Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.
Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.
He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.
“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”
With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”
The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.
“Woah! I--”
“Tell me something.”
Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.
“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”
The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”
You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”
“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”
Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.
The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.
“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”
He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.
Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”
Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.
“C’mon, be honest.”
With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.
Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.
“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”
His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”
“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”
“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”
“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”
“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”
There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”
In what world would you refuse?
The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.
He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.
Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.
“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”
Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.
Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.
You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.
He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.
"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."
Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”
"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."
part 2 dropping soon
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Back in the Dating Game
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, new relationship, first date, phone calls, being flustered, gifts, kissing, poly Lucilith, Lucifer Morningstar is a gentleman and silly
Word count: 1.2k
Summary: After a while of dancing around it you and Lucifer are finally going on a date. He's been freaking out about it and goes to ask the only person he can for advice, his daughter, Charlie.
A/N: This came to me at like 2 in the morning and I thought it was hilarious.
Over a month has passed since Charlie and her friends battle with Adam and Hell is slowly going back to... it's usual brand of chaos. Lucifer however has his own worries past Hell's current affairs. His upcoming date.
"It's a date. A date. You've been on dates before. You're the King of Hell!" He yelled at his own reflection, ferocious at first and then sunk back down into his chair. "Like ten thousand years ago. Ugh. Why is it still so hard. I gotta find someone who... wait... that's it!"
He rushed out the door of his bedroom, greeting one Hotel staff member after the other, even Alastor, although he swore that the Radio Demon tried to trip him. It was still early morning so he choose to leave him be. For now.
"Charlie can I- oh- oh my golly-!" Lucifer was has never looked away faster in his life, his long, long life.
"Dad! What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Charlie kicked her legs so fast one of her hooves smacked Vaggie in the face. "Shit! Vaggie I'm so sorry! Are you bleeding! Oh my god you are!"
Vaggie put her hand up and instead of bothering to stop the bleeding searched for her nightgown. There were few things worse then getting caught between her girlfriend's legs.
"Are uh... you two dressed now?" Lucifer coughed awkwardly as he listened to the commotion behind him. "I'm so sorry I didn't know you two were- I mean it's fine you're girlfriends and sex is a very natural-"
"Dad, please don't. You can turn around just... knock next time." Lucifer turned around, one hand still on his face, "You can look, we're dressed."
The King of Hell cleared his throat, standing there for a few more moments before walking over to a chair and sitting down. "Soooo... wings huh? Hey, me too! Aha-haaa!" He grinned way to much, trying to break the awkward atmosphere. "Charlie... you like girls right?"
"Yes? Didn't you just... dad, what's going on?"
He gulped, tapping his fingers on his cane, "There's this woman I've kind of, maybe, soft of been seeing and... well your old man's been out of the dating game for the past ten thousand years. It's... I'm nervous about the date tonight." He was out of breath by the time he finished talking, almost shaking.
Charlie and Vaggie looked at each other, and a moment later Charlie exploded with excitement.
"Who is she? When did you meet? Did you kiss yet? Is she as pretty as mom? Does she like singing? Have you kissed yet or not?! Wait I already asked that!"
"Charlie, Charlie calm down! This is gonna be our first official date. Your mom gave a thumbs up? We didn't talk much though. I really think this-" A phone rang in his pocket, "Oh! Oh god! It's her! What do I do?!"
"Pick up the phone?" Vaggie suggested.
"Good idea Gabby! That's why I like you!" That wasn't even close to her name but okay, he was under a lot of stress. "What do I say?"
"Just... be yourself?" Not helpful.
"Myself. Okay. I'm Lucifer. The King of Hell!" He took a deep breath and pressed answer, "Hey bitch!"
Both Charlie and Vaggie faceplalmed, Vaggie cringing more because of her busted nose and lip.
"Uhm, hey Lucifer. Are we still on for tonight?" You asked with no small amount of stress of your own. You were getting a date with the King of Hell, it was scary and exciting at the same time.
"Of course we're on! We are gonna get it on! Not like that, no! I uh... want to..." He looked to the side where both Charlie and Vaggie made X gestures with their arms, "Make you an X?"
You laughed at how nervous he sounded too, "Already dumping me? You haven't even kissed me yet. I'm not that bad at it, I promise."
"No, no I don't mean... I look forward to seeing you tonight. It will be the best, most romantic, the most magical shit you've ever seen... baby?" Lucifer tried to chuckle but it sounded very forced.
"Well okay then. Sweep me off my feet, my good sir." Look at you, already using petnames for each other.
"S-Sir...?" His mind was already going places that were very much not appropriate in front of his daughter and her girlfriend, "See you tonight!" He ended the call, "That went well. Wish me luck Charlie! Oh and use protection! Your old man ain't ready to be a grandpa yet."
"Daaad!" Charlie blushed a deep red as Lucifer stepped through a portal and back into his room.
The knock at your door was quick and hard, and a few minutes early. But you knew who it was, the hat and the wings were a dead giveaway. You checked your outfit and make-up in the mirror one last time before opening the door and beholding the King of Hell himself holding out flowers for you with a shy smile on his face.
"Hope these aren't too much for a first date." He handed them off to you. "They're alive! They're gonna be great houseguards when they grow fully." Good, then you wouldn't have to feed them. The demons breaking into your home will do that.
"Thank you, I'm sure they'll be lovely." You put them aside and took his hand as he tapped his cane on the floor and opened a portal to a restaurant you haven't been to before. It looked much too fancy, but not for the King. "Wow."
Lucifer pulled out a chair for you but tripped over his own. "I'm okay!"
He was such a goof ball.
"I uh... look, I need to be honest with you. I haven't been on a date in a while. I don't know how to do... this. I walked in on my daughter with her girlfriend today because I couldn't figure out how to talk to you!" He leaned against his chair and ran his hand across his face, his red cheeks reddening even more.
"Lucifer, it's fine." You reached for his hand, "You're the King of Hell. I was scared to go out with you, I didn't know what to expect. Your reputation is pretty intimidating. But I'm glad you're not that guy."
"And what kind of guy am I?" He leaned in, so interested in what you had to say. He'd been judged for so long, for all the wrong things, he had to know what you think.
"Really funny, someone who cares about his family, charming, and dare I say devilishly handsome." You pushed yourself over the desk and kissed him on the cheek, in front of everyone. "And so cute when you blush." You whispered and looked at him with hooded eyes. Lucifer didn't reply but you did see his tail moving behind him. "Puppy energy. Interesting."
"Oh no, I'm not into pet play. But I'm sure we can find other things we're both into." His eyebrows wiggled as he let his long tongue curl at you. You clenched your legs, excited for more dates with him if this is the energy he's gonna bring every time.
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