#fuck chem trails

[s0urce--flow]

🗻💫Orbital Spins into the Sky💫🗻

#northern maine #energy work #hoop flow #fuck chem trails

[deepest-chambers-of-the-heart]

it's always crazy that my first thought about the end of the world or escaping or having to flee is: god i hope i die

does that make me a coward? i don't see myself living through fleeing if an earthquake collapses our house or something just please end it

being told everything is weird and unprecedented and that they're preparing for something just please i don't want to live through another global catastrophic event just let me die man

with my health problems already it's a struggle enough to get up and live i can't imagine bejng in a real crisis if my body is already taking this as a sign im going tk die

do i like how reactive i feel when ppl talk about the possible catastrophe of earthquakes or eclipses or preparing for some unknown something to happen? no. i don't like the fear and the immediate "i need to kill myself or ill suffer unknown tragedies" maybe ive read too much apocalypse fiction where the world ends and factions split and people run rampid

because i know im not built to survive it. im not and i cant. i don't want to live in fear again by the powers over me I don't want to be subject to cruelty and horror

#eughh. im not doing too hot. armageddon plus bad work day plus religious parent living in house until further notice equals metal screeching #brain is sobbing and writhing in trauma and fear im a little kid again waiting for the world to end but this time im not praying for safety #im staring up hoping its quick #i am spiralingggg oh gosh #took just a few minutes of talking to her and hearing “we need to be prepared and there's a x in the sky and they're spraying chem trails” #can't start crying like a bitch about it grow up hya don't melt into hysterics you dumb fuck you're never not gonna be suicidal but at least #get the fuck over it stuff it down or whatever #bunspeaks

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: this one's a bit shorter, next one will have smut, i am so fcking sleepy writing this i'll have to check tomorrow it this isn't a hallucination

Warnings: Horny Violence, Blood and Guts, Suggestive Themes, we're on a steady route to pound town

Summary: Cooper catches his prize, but an uninvited guest puts a strain on an already rocky relationship. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 1

You must be a Vault Dweller. Truly. There is no other way to explain the utter lack of self-preservation skills.

Cooper finds you almost immediately after the sun sets. He can see the flickering light of your small bonfire through the trees, and languidly, he stalks forwards, opting to stay in the shadows to observe you a moment longer. 

You're sitting on the ground, back leaning against a destroyed carcass of a plane. Hair pushed out of your face, Cooper can see the flames illuminating your focused expression with warm light. Once again, he's struck by this seemingly regal air around you. Like you've been raised in a castle, far from this fucked up place, that is now his home. A princess, stuck in harsh reality. Eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip tucked hard between your teeth, you seem to be pondering over something.

With quick motions, you take your messenger bag, opening it and dumping its contents onto the ground in front of you. It's somewhat hard to see, but the sound of small glass bottles knocking into each other is telling enough. 

Taking stock of your inventory, you begin to tuck everything back into the bag. Chems upon chems, RadAway, RadX, quite the little drug library, and Cooper's eyes immediately lock onto his most sought after, amber liquid. Why would a Smoothie like you need any of that stuff is beyond him. He hasn't seen any Ghouls in the small town you hail from. 

Perks of the job, he thinks to himself, as you stack away at least five vials.

At the last bottle, you hesitate, bringing it up towards the light, and looking at it with a worried expression. The liquid swirls inside, and Cooper watches from the shadows, as you press the cold glass against your forehead in a motion eerily reminding him of a prayer. Your shoulders shudder, and Cooper's mangled ears strain, as he sees your mouth move.

- Let me be brave - you whisper to the vial, like some ancient spell, and something new tightens in his chest, something he immediately brushes away.

Then, he sees you lift a very familiar piece of equipment, putting it on your wrist, and begin to tweak something in the controls. A Pip-Boy. Old and battered, but apparently still working. All his confusing feelings are wiped clean in an instant. Now, he's truly intrigued. The clasps seem slightly too big for your hand, and the device slides the length of your arm, as you move. 

You sigh, heavily, then press something, and the Geiger meter clicks to life, picking up on stray radiation. Cooper feels his muscles tense, knowing all too well, why the device has activated so rapidly. As a Ghoul, he leaves a trail of radiation, that follows him wherever he goes. He wasn't particularly aware, that a Pip-Boy could pick up on it, but he wasn't surprised either.

 The sound makes you freeze in your spot. Slowly, you scan the area, your hand extended towards the darkening outline of the surrounding trees. As your hand passes by the place Cooper has chosen as his hiding spot, the meter grows louder. 

Jumping to your feet, you raise the blasted thing in front of you, your other hand tugging at the waistband of your skirt, freeing your trusted kitchen knife. As if to double-check, you put your hand somewhere to the back, listening to the quiet cracking noise. 

You can't fully confirm your suspicions on time, as Cooper springs to action. 

A thick line of rope falls over your shoulders, and before you have the chance to react, the loop around you tightens. Your entire body is tugged with surprising force in the direction of the treeline. Loosing your footing, you collapse onto the damp forest floor, chin scraping in the process. The yelp of shock tearing out of your throat, rings through the surrounding area, before you literally, eat dirt. The force of the impact wrenches the knife from your hand, as it bends at an uncomfortable angle. The weapon lands somewhere in the grass, the blade reflecting the flames.

Wiggling like a worm, trying to free yourself from the bounds, you notice a pair of well-worn shoes entering your vision. They cross the remaining distance, stopping just short of your head. Knees crack as your attacker squats down, before taking your hair into a hard grip and lifting your head from the dirt. 

Your face twists in pain, neck craning uncomfortably, and with an overwhelming feeling of finality, your eyes land onto the face of a ghoul. The Ghoul. He turns his head slightly to the side with the meanes of grins, before letting go of your hair, your head falling back into the dirt. 

- Oh, motherfucker - you groan, pulling your legs up, and attempting to get up.

- Stay down - the Ghoul's voice is rough and biting, and sudden pressure on your back pins you to the ground. - Do you know how fuckin' stupid it is, to light a fire in the wilderness? Any unsightly character could pick you off in seconds. 

Spitting out stray clumps of earth and grass from your mouth, you scoff at his scolding tone.

- Thankfully, there are no unsightly characters here, huh? 

- Oh, I wouldn't say that, sweetheart. - the bounty hunter tugs the toe of his shoe under your side, and kicks up, turning your body.

You roll onto your back, throwing a nasty look at the Ghoul, as he secures the loop of his lasso. His eyes reflect the light in the most haunting of ways, and you squirm under his gaze, which drags itself across your body, stopping briefly at the tips of your breasts, peaking from under your shirt. Swallowing thickly, your muscles relax, in hopes of loosening the rope. It barely gives, but your limbs recover some wiggle room. 

Cooper blinks, his head jerking to the side, and only as he brings his hand up, do you register the gun in his hand. Making sure you can see it, he turns towards your messenger bag, grabbing it from the ground where you left it. 

He sits down, somewhere outside your field of vision, and you risk pulling yourself up into a sitting position. He doesn't seem to mind it now, too busy with rummaging through your belongings. Finally, he pulls out a vial of amber liquid, watching it swirl in the flickering light of the bonfire. 

- Now - Cooper starts, as he grabs the inhaler from his pocket, inserting the vial into it - Why would a backwoods healer have something like this on 'er?

Rolling your shoulders ever so slightly, the rope slides further down your arms, and you regard the Ghoul with a venomous rendition of a "are you fucking dumb?" look. Which he doesn't appreciate. His hands tremble, as he closes his mouth over the inhaler, taking a long hit, draining the entire vial. You try very hard, not to notice the low moan flowing out of him, as the drug enters his system. Or the way his eyes flutter blissfully for just a second. 

- You never know, who might be needing help... - you mutter, wincing at the biting pain in your limbs.

- Well ain't that considerate of you - he coughs into his gloved hand, before sighing deeply, his head reclining back against the plane's exterior, his eyes closed.

From where you're sitting, he looks weirdly handsome. Rugged and very much Ghoul-like, but handsome nonetheless. The skin of his neck is pulled taunt, and in the flickering light of a dying bonfire, you can see a myriad of scars, littering any surface of his skin that's visible. Still, there were other matters at hand, that needed your attention, and you try to shift in your seat as quietly as possible, slowly but surely sliding the rope down your body. 

- Next time you try to run away, I'll shoot you - your efforts are stilled by his warning tone, and by the way he waves his gun at you, you know he'll make good on this promise.

- Thought you needed me in good condition.

To that, he finally throws you a look from under his cowboy hat. 

- Good... - he confirms, his other hand slowly shortening the length of the rope connecting the both of you - Ain't the same as mint. 

The loop suddenly digs further into your flesh, and you grunt at the uncomfortable feeling of the rough rope scratching at your exposed upper arms. 

Unfortunately, he's right. During your time as the local healer, you've done many questionable things to ensure the well-being of the town. One of those things, was dealing with organ harvesters. You've only bought a limb or a finger, every once in a while, as if that was some consolation for your darkened soul. Those moments quickly taught you, that something being good was most certainly not the same as ideal. Or mint, as your captor has supplied. 

- You a Vault-Dweller? - the Ghoul finally asks, breaking the small spell of silence between you.

The question doesn't surprise you, and you lift the Pip-Boy as far up, as the lasso allows you. Which isn't a lot. 

- Nah - the flames dance on your suddenly melancholic expression, and Cooper drinks it all up, curiosity spiking with each new information - My mother was. She ran away from her Vault when she was a teenager and joined the Brotherhood soon after. 

- The Brotherhood doesn't recruit women - Cooper turns his body towards you, fishing for lies like a shark sniffing for blood. 

- Oh, it doesn't? - your lips pull back into a teasing smile, which perhaps isn't the smartest thing to do, but entertainment is scarce in the Wastelands, and you're determined to have some fun - She posed as a man for years, picked up a job as a medic.

Cooper hums to himself, inviting you to elaborate with an inclination of his head. 

- There, she met my father - you continue, looking over at the last glowing embers of the bonfire - They were discovered, court martialed for treason. They escaped together and had me somewhere along the way.

Your Pip-Boy still cracks, the radiation emanating from the Ghoul making the Geiger meter go haywire. With soft eyes, your hand traces the outline of the screen, watching the way green light dances on your fingers. 

- The forbidden love of the Wasteland - you sigh into the silence - Sounds like a title of some romance novel, no?

- Or a bad porno - Cooper grumbles, rolling his eyes.

- What's a porno?

His head snaps towards you in record speed, a myriad of emotions running through his mangled expression. It settles on deep annoyance, when he notices the sly smirk on your lips, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. 

- Gotcha - your attempt at finger guns is pathetic at best.

- Oh, you think you're a fucking comedian, huh? - the bounty hunter asks, a slight amused tint to his words, which you consider to be a small victory.

- That's why they put a bounty on me - you giggle - I'm too damned funny. 

- Shut it.

The sudden change in his tone catches you off guard, and you cock an eyebrow at him, confused. The Ghoul looks much more tense than seconds ago, his hand tightening around his gun. One of his legs kicks up a pile of dirt, smothering the dying embers of the bonfire, as he leans forward, seemingly ready to jump. 

- Had I known you were such a buzz kill...-

You're not allowed to finish, as the Ghoul basically throws himself in your direction. Your yelp is cut short with a piece of flimsy cloth being shoved into your mouth. A series of muffled sounds, vaguely resembling "is this my robe?" escape you, and the Ghoul pushed against your head, until you fall back down onto the ground. 

His body is hot against yours, as he covers you entirely with his weight. It's quite difficult to breathe through the makeshift gag and the overwhelming scent of blood, gunpowder, and the sickly sweet undertone of rot. As well as the unfamiliar feeling of having someone so close. You were a hermit after all. 

- I said, shut the fuck up - he whispers harshly into your ear, and you shiver underneath him, as his chest rises and falls against your back. 

Then, a sound somewhere close to the forest line makes your head whip in its direction. Cracking of twigs and heavy footsteps, coming closer and closer with clear determination. 

- Healer? - your entire body stiffens, as a familiar voice rings out through the trees. - Are you alright, Healer?

Benny. The same Benny, which led this damned bounty hunter right to your doorstep is currently making his merry way towards the both of you. Your eyes follow the way the Ghoul's thumb loads the pistol with a click of finality, and suddenly new energy floods your system.

- Stop fucking moving - Cooper grounds down on his teeth, as you attempt to free yourself from both his grip, and the lasso's.

Images of Benny, bloodied and dead, flash through your mind, and despite your lack of any sympathy towards the man, you don't want to see it. So, you start to move again, violently shaking under the Ghoul, forcing the lasso to slide from your body. Your hips jerk from the ground, bucking into him like a wild animal, and somewhere behind your ear, you can hear him suck in a sharp breath. Which you have no time to dwell upon. Your tongue fights against the fabric of your robe, and after a second you're able to spit it out.

- Don't shoot him - you plead feverishly, hands gripping the Ghoul's forearm - I'll talk to him, he'll leave. Just don't shoot him, please.

Cooper looks down at you, his eyes hard on your face, as he watches out for any signs of deceit. Then, he presses his lips into a thin line.

- Make it quick, or I'll pop his head clean off his shoulders. - southern accent floods every syllable, and were you not fighting to save a life (again), you would've blushed.

- Yes, thank you. I'll be quick. Thank you. - words spill out of you like a broken faucet, whispered into the space between your bodies, as the bounty hunter tugs off the loop of his lasso. 

You take a moment to steady yourself, as he drags you up with him, hand twisted into the front of your shirt. Still a little stunned, you allow him to manoeuvre you, turning your body in his grasp, until your back is pressed flush against his front. 

Strong arm sneaks over your shoulders, hand clasping around the column of your throat, while the other one waits just outside of your vision. The barrel of the gun rests between your shoulder and your neck, and the coolness of the metal causes a myriad of goosebumps to erupt across your skin. 

- I'm here Benny - you call out, praying to anything that would listen, that your plan would work - Come out, slowly. 

To his credit, Benny has always been quite good at following directions. There weren't many attributes about him either way, a bit dim in the head, a bit too heroic. 

And definitely a bit too quick to pull out a gun.

Which is what he does as soon as he sees your peculiar situation. The Ghoul drums his fingers against your pulse point, and Benny approaches, a simple shotgun in front of him.

- What the hell...?

- Benny, I need you to listen to me - your voice sounds way too panicked, and you swallow hard to fake some illusion of control over this situation - I need you to turn around, and leave.

- But, there's a Ghoul with a gun behind you, Healer.

You nearly jump out of your skin, when you feel the hot breath of your unwanted companion on the back of your neck. You can almost imagine his chapped lips, so close to your skin.

- Time's a tickin', sweetheart - he whispers, and your blood runs cold in your veins. 

- He's a - you swallow, mouth going dry in an instant - He's my friend. Who's getting very anxious with the trigger, Benny, so please, just go home. 

Deep down inside you know there is no scenario, where the farmer leaves alive. He signed his death warrant the moment he stepped out of the shadows, yet for some unknown reason, that just makes you fight against the odds harder. Call it dumb optimism, perhaps you're possessed by your mother's spirit. Or perhaps the chems have finally scrambled your brains for good. 

- He's not looking very friendly - Benny's gun sways slightly, as he tries to keep it raised, muscles evidently straining against the weight - He's the guy that shot Pete.

Oh for fucks sake, your whole body starts shaking at this point, heart thrumming in your chest like a moth batting against a lampshade. You can feel the Ghoul smirk against the skin of your shoulder, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. His thumb presses slightly into your pulse, feeling it run rampant against his finger. 

- Please - somehow you hope the desperation in your voice will be enough - Please, leave. Benny, please.

Benny looks between you and the Ghoul peaking over your trembling form. You can see his brain working overtime, scrunched eyebrows, smacking of the lips. You're only praying it's working in the right direction. Then, some idea flashes across his expression, and you know in the hollow of your stomach, that this is his end.

- If I save you, will you marry me? - he asks, looking at you with the utmost hopeful expression.

- ...what?

Confusion doesn't even fully register in your mind, as the deafening sound of a gun being fired nearly blows up your eardrums. At first you're not sure, what you're looking at. Where there used to be Benny, now there's a carcass, mangled and bloody. It's hard to figure out, where individual parts of his body are, some bones sticking out from the chunky mush. A spray of red falls onto your face like a morning mist, and the scent of iron and gunpowder is stunning your senses. 

You can't move. Eyes glued to what once used to Benny, you don't even notice, as the Ghoul removes himself from you, placing the lasso over your head and around your body. The loop is secured tightly, and the bounty hunter tugs on it a couple of times, just to test its durability. Then, lazily, he picks up your messenger bag, swinging it over his shoulder. 

- The first time he came to me for help, he tried to domesticate a rad roach - you mutter absentmindedly, not caring if your unwanted companion is hearing you - Wanted it to help with the farm work. I had to stitch half his left side. 

- Stupid life deserves a stupid death.

- You're a fucking monster - you spit out, the feeling of Benny's blood on your lips almost making you gag.

Apparently, the Ghoul takes offense to that, because almost instantly, he's in front of you, his hand gripping your throat, and pushing you hard against the metal plating of the destroyed plane. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, as your head knocks hard into the wall, pain barely registering under the confusion.

- I have been more than accommodating to you, little princess - the Ghoul snarls in your direction, but all you can focus on, is his other hand, grabbing your bruised chin - I've entertained your little medical escapade, I let you negotiate with that dimwit over there.

The warmth of his body suffocates you stronger than any hand around your throat. You can't decide on the color of his eyes, as they seem to shift between amber and green, and completely black. Your mouth opens just a smidge, as you try to defend yourself in any way, but before you can speak, the Ghoul shoves two gloved fingers into your mouth, silencing you in an instant. 

- I could be so much worse, darlin', and I don't think you would like that - his voice lowers itself barely above a whisper, and he watches your expression shift under his grip.

You can't help it, really, the way your body reacts to this rough manhandling. It's not like you could predict being pinned to a wall by a stranger would make your thighs press together. Cooper looks down. He smiles like a cat, that's just found the fattest of mice, when his eyes drag back up to your face. 

- Or perhaps you would - his knee presses against the middle of your thighs, just short of forcing them apart, and you gasp around his fingers.

As if nothing has happened, he pulls away, so suddenly, you nearly fall over. His gloved hand glistens with your saliva, and gracefully, he wipes it clean on your shirt. Blushed, panting, and very angry at this turn of events, you stare daggers at him, as he tugs at the lasso, forcing you to start moving.  

- What is your name? - you demand, blood running hot and defiant in your veins. 

Cooper stares for just a moment too long. The way you seem to bristle in rage, even though that farmer truly was stupid, and you know it too. He likes the way your eyes harden, the way your jaw sets, when you realize this is no longer fun and games. When you recognize, how dangerous he can be, how mean and ruthless. He'd be a fool not to admit it,  it makes him feel powerful, revered. 

And the undertone of humiliation running through the length of your spine is just such a delicious addition. Almost better than chems. Almost more addicting.

Lips tugging back into a nasty smirk, he appraises you with his gaze, surprised when your resolve seems to harden even more. 

- You, Healer - your title sounds wrong coming from his thin lips, worse than any other time you've heard it - Can call me "sir".

Something akin to disgust runs through your expression, and you turn away with a grumble. 

- Fat fucking chance.

#my writing #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #fallout smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul smut #if yall see any typos no you dont ill edit it in the morning i just gotta post it before i go insane #i am slightly taking inspiration from a little ship ive been shiping since highschool but i want tell yall which one #you gotta guess #its from superwholock is all im gonna say which is just... who am i #anyways good night this cowboy is retiring

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People

Summary: You don't expect to see the ghoul you fucked two weeks ago passed out in the sand close to a caravan trail. You stop and decide to help.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Continuation -> HERE

*this ghoul has taken me by the reins and will not let go. So I hope you enjoy some fluff and a continuation of Quickie.

Considering that your profession is that of a wondering trader, you have all sorts of goodies for sale at all times. That included the drug that all ghouls coveted, the liquid miracle that kept them from going feral. You didn't know what it was made from or how it was made, but they sold for good caps, so you kept them handy.

And it was fortunate that you did so when you find the ghoul that you'd had sex with not two weeks ago passed out on the side of the dirt trail. You cautiously approach, gun at the read in case he'd already lost himself and gone off the deep end. You nudge him with the toe of your boot.

"Hey, Uh- Cooper, right? You okay down there?" You ask, and a groan of displeasure is your answer. You sigh heavily and crouch, placing both hands on his side so that you can roll him over to his back. The ghoul blinks up at you slowly, and you wonder how long he's been here.

Cooper licks his dry lips, searching this smoothskin's face, and his lips pull up in a tired smirk when he realizes that it's you who found him. Huh. What were the odds.

"Well," He croaks, voice low and weak, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

You huff at him and take in his disgruntled appearance, the ghoul dried out and baked in the high sun. This weak, Cooper must have been here for at least a full day. You were impressed that he was still alive.

"We should really stop meeting like this," you quip and sling you backpack around you. You shift through the pockets until you find the metal case you keep the chems you sell inside. The ghoul watches you with interest, cracked lips twisted in a pleased smirk.

"Right pocket," He gruffed out, and you understood her meant his inhaler. You fished it out and loaded the drug in, then pressed the mouthpiece to his lips before pressing down the plunger. Cooper greedily sucked it down, and a shot of energy blazed through his system, allowing the ghoul to push himself up after a moment.

You stood and stepped back to give him room, watching with interest as Cooper dusted himself off and fixed his hat back on his bald head. He clears his throat when he turns to you, a curious look in his pretty eyes.

"What do I owe you?" He asks. The ghoul isn't fond of being in debt to people, even the ones he likes.

You shrug, though a mischievous smile lingers on your lips, and you hand over two extra vials of the drug that the ghoul obviously needs. It wouldn't be that big of a hit to your profits.

"Let's just say it's on the house," you say and wink at Cooper, who laughs and closes the distance between the two of you. His hand finds your jaw, cradling it in his calloused palm.

"Then allow me to pay you for any future transactions, Darlin'," Coop rumbled and then tugged you in for a much needed kiss.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader

[preciousbarnes]

Languages of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you are complete opposites in day to day life. You’re a local florist, surrounded by plants and soft colors. Bucky is grumpy and rough around the edges. At nights together, his softer side shows, whispering sweet nothings to you that you love but never understand.

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: smut, first time, soft sex, fluff, bit of a language barrier, grumpy!bucky x literal sunshine, florist!reader.

You first really noticed it the first night you slept in the same bed together. It was innocent, you and Bucky were taking your time in the relationship, but you asked him to stay the night at your apartment above your little florist shop since it was storming so horribly outside after your dinner date with him.

You both got ready for bed, Bucky stripping down to just his boxers and you changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You both climbed into bed, you shyly staying to your side of the bed until you felt Bucky’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You let out a little squeak in surprise, causing Bucky to give a resulting deep chuckle. You laid in his arms, nuzzling yourself close to him as you entangled your legs with his, enjoying the contrast of his furnace like body heat, and the coolness of his metal arm. You laid there silently for the longest time, trading gentle and soothing pets.

That’s when Bucky softly started talking to you in a language you didn’t understand.

“Ya ne znayu, chem ya zasluzhil eto, no ya tak blagodaren” He mutters to you in Russian, gently running his fingers through your hair. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m so grateful.

You look at his face, taking in the soft and heartfelt expression. You had no clue what he had just said, but judging by his face you were certain it was something sweet. You gently pecked his lips, making his little smile grow. You both fell asleep in each other arms that night, feeling like your hearts were so full of affection and love.

The second time it happened was in a more heated moment. It was your first time. Your first time ever, and his first time with you. You were both laying in the middle of your bed under the soft sheets, lights dimmed in the room with soft jazz playing in the background. You were naked, and Bucky remained in his boxers, his cock straining against the fabric, forgotten. He had taken out all the stops, wanting to make your first time so special, feeling so honored to be your first. He had gently worked you open with his fingers and mouth, whispering sweet nothings in English between your legs.

“You’re doing so good doll, opening up for me so prettily.”

“Look at you, darling. So fucking gorgeous.”

“Can't wait to be inside of you, sweetheart. Going to make you feel so, so good baby,”

After plenty of foreplay, he raised up, leaving you soaked and a pleading mess for him.

“Please, Bucky. Please, I want you, please.” You gently begged, barely recognizing your own voice, already so wrecked.

“Are you sure, moya lyubov'?” He asks you, wanting to be certain that this is something you want. My love.

You nod your head, hand coming up to gently caress his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, a stark and rough contrast to the soft expression on his face, one full of love and utter adoration.

He stripped off his boxers, tossing them off the side of the bed. You let your eyes trail down from his face, down his chest and chiseled abs, to his dick. It was flushed, bobbing a bit from a twitch. The length and girth had your mouth watering, just imagining how much better than just fingers that would feel, how full and absolutely stuffed it would make you feel. His head glistened in the soft light, wet from precum that had leaked out, showing you just how thoroughly he enjoyed the foreplay as well.

You reached down, grasping him in your hand, making him suck in a breath at the touch. You gently and slowly pumped your fist, using your thumb to gather the precum beaded at the head and move it down his shaft. As you pleasured him, you looked up to see his face overcome with pleasure, soft groans leaving his lips. Fire stirred in your gut with the realization that you were making him feel that way. Something possessive swirled in you as well, not wanting anyone to ever see this side of him again, wanting the sight to be yours and yours alone.

After a few moments, you were paused by his hand coming down to grasp your wrist.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going to last if you keep touching me like this,” He says roughly, his voice taking on a gravelly tone, overtaken with the pleasure you were bringing him.

You smile, proud of yourself which makes him smirk and chuckle. He removes his hand from your wrist, taking himself in his hand to line himself up. He slowly pushes in, filling you to the brim. Your back arches off the bed, a moan being ripped from your throat. Once he's in you to the hilt, his head drops to your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips. He’s overwhelmed with pleasure, never knowing it was possible for it to feel this good. You’re so warm, so tight, your velvety walls gripping him just right.

He begins thrusting, slow and sensual but strong thrusts hitting just the right spot. Your nails rake down his back, legs coming up to wrap around his hips, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

That’s when you hear it. That soft, deep voice muttering words to you that you don’t understand, slipping into what you now know is Russian.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, detka.” You feel so good, baby.

“Ty kak budto sozdana dlya menya.” It’s like you were made for me.

“Zakhvatyvayushchiy,” Breathtaking.

“U tebya yest' ves' ya, telo i dusha.” You have all of me, body and soul.

He keeps muttering soft phrases and words against your skin that night, cherishing you in a way you never knew someone could. It's the contrast between the sharp thrusts and gentle hands and words that send you over the edge in the end, vision going white as you pull him over the ledge with you into absolute bliss.

After you both are sated and content, laying in each other's arms, he mutters one more phrase as he gently kisses the place where your jaw meets your throat.

“Ya tebya lyublyu” he says worshipfully, almost like a prayer leaving his lips.

You normally just smile at the sweet words you don’t understand, giving his kisses or hugs in response. This phrase though, it felt important to know, so you ask.

He looks at you like you hold the answer to all the universes questions, bringing his hand up to run his thumb against your cheekbone so softly you barely feel it.

“I love you,” he tells you, easily but so full of conviction.

A smile breaks across your face, as you return those three little words to him.

The next time you hear the language slip from his lips was when a recruit got a little to close, not knowing you were there at the training compound to see your boyfriend.

“Ne trogay yeye” He spat out, roughly grabbing the hand the recruit had reached out in goals of touching your arm. Don’t touch her. He was shooting daggers with his eyes at the recruit, who was now backing away, stuttering out an apology before quickly walking away.

The look on his face was reminiscent of a cartoon grumpy bear, making you giggle gently which led him to look over to you, a confused look on his face with the remnants of a scowl still there.

You reached up on your tip toes to kiss him gently on the lips, replacing the scowl with a dopey smile. In the background you could hear Steve’s chuckle at the lovestruck look on his best friends face as you grabbed his hand, leading him out to your car as you told him about the new shipment of flowers you just got in that you wanted to show him.

You found yourself in your floral shop with Natasha, her helping you with organizing order forms as you got out supplies to make another arrangement.

“Hey Nat, you’re fluent in Russian, right?” You ask the agent, earning a smile from her and a soft “Da.” Yes.

“You’ve been around when Bucky says stuff to me, right?”

She nods and smiles again, seeing where this is going.

“You want to know what he says?” She asks, filing away the orders and turning her full attention to you.

“Yeah, I always want to ask, but he has this look on his face. This soft expression. Like how people look at baby kittens. It makes me feel so cherished. I don’t ever want to ruin the moment,” You explain, hoping she understands.

She laughs at your comparison to Bucky’s face to how people look at kittens.

“Yknow, if I heard anyone else say Bucky looks at something how people look at baby anything, at one time I would’ve thought they had lost their mind. But yeah, that’s how he looks at you sometimes. He worships you, honey. Most of the time, when I’ve been around and he’s spoken to you in the language, he’s telling you that you're his whole world, that he feels so lucky to have found you, that he feels blessed, that you’re his angel, that he is yours completely, just really soft shit. He loves you.” She tells you, making your heart swell.

“Well,” you begin, “can you help me with something for him?” you ask.

Later that night you both found yourselves curled up together on the couch of your now shared apartment above your floral shop, Bucky playing with your hair as your hand gently strokes up and down one of the arms wrapped around you as you listen to his heartbeat with your head rested on his chest.

That’s when you say it.

“Ya beskonechno lyublyu tebya” you tell him, hoping you got the pronunciation right. Based on the shocked look on his face, followed by a wide smile stretching across his face, you’re assuming you did well enough for him to have understood. I love you to the moon and back.

“I love you too doll, to all the planets and beyond and back” He tells you, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #preciousbarnes fics #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n

[midryss]

Spit On Me (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader)

My first fic but this man has me in a chokehold so I had to. Hope you freaks enjoy and please leave feedback!

Big thank you to @ghoulphile @acapelladitty and many more for the inspiration!

18+ Only!!

Summary: It's not what you know, it's who you know. You're a bounty hunter with big dreams, wanting to climb your way to the top and be the best of the best. When the opportunity to bag the biggest bounty arises you drag an unwilling Cooper along for the ride.

Warnings for smut: Spitting, spanking, biting, mild degrading, sub/dom dynamic, begging, teasing, hair pulling, p in v, fingering, dirty talk.

Reputations are a funny thing. You could be on top one moment and down in the gutters the next. Unfortunately, even getting on the ladder at all was a challenge.

Being small in height, and slim built is far from threatening in the slightest and you knew it. Stealth and speed are your advantage, often taking enemies by surprise or using the environment as a shield. It's shame so few of your strengths were so effective against feral ghouls, or radiated beasts who could smell you from a mile off. You had to pick your battles wisely or the wasteland would swallow you whole.

When you weren't picking up small bounties or scrap you spent most of your time in your little shack in Filly. It was cosy enough, for a junkyard shack, holding just the essentials. Enough to eat, sleep and make chems for your drugged up customers. But you wanted more. A big ol mansion, or hall. Something that screamed "I'm powerful, don't fuck with me!"

Maybe one day. Maybe you'd bag a bounty big enough for that reputation, maybe you'd sell shit loads of chems to that cowboy ghoul and buy your way to the top. You scoffed at the thought, doubtful. He may be the most skilled bounty hunter in the region, but he wasn't that loaded. Truth be told you greatly admired the ghoul, his badass attitude paired with the cowboy style fascinated you. But you knew he underestimated you, just like the others and you were determined to change that.

A foul burning smell snapped you from your daydream.

"Shit!" you hissed while lowering the heat of the chem station, and frantically grabbing the glass tubes of suspicious liquids away from the flame.

You sighed deeply, another batch ruined. For days you had been cooped up like this, waiting for that damned ghoul to show up and collect his order. But you just knew the moment you take another bounty he'd show up. So you stayed, waiting patiently as the bounty board racked up new targets.

Deciding you'd had enough you pulled your dusty jacket over your shoulders and marched out the door to the bounty board. Just checking it wouldn't do any harm.

Your ragged boots kicked the dust as you marched up to the dilapidated bounty board. To your surprise it seemed quieter than usual, only a few odd small jobs and one hefty one which had been up for weeks. You first thought someone posted it as a joke, no way would anyone be crazy enough to take down the biggest raider settlement in the Wasteland. Even more unbelievable was the reward: 10,000 caps and an entire estate! The client must really despise raiders to give up so much, or the more likely theory-it's a scam.

"I sure hope a sweet little thing like you ain't thinkin bout that big bounty there" You spun round, already grinning at the sound of his voice finally

"where the hell have you been!?" you greeted him cheekily. He shot you that charming smile as he stood beside you, reminding himself of the absurd bounty. "Ain't no way that's real!" you exclaimed

He thought for a moment "Not a solo job but it's doable, that's why no one's taken it. Don't wanna share the reward" he explained, gloved fingers resting in his belt loops.

You thought to yourself for a moment "Sounds like the client just wants the raiders gone, why not just lure a few ferals or a deathclaw in and watch the fireworks? Or a mini nuke would wipe them out..." you trailed off strategizing the easiest way to commit mass murder.

"You're damn viscous, ya know that?" he almost sounded proud

"We could do it" you blurted out, he laughed

"Now that's the funniest shit I heard in a long time!"

"I'm serious, Coop! You're a skilled killer, I can make deadly explosives. We sneak in, plant the weapon, sneak out, watch the chaos unfold from afar!" Your ambition amused him, he sighed

"Gimme my chems and I'll think about it"

"Yes!" your eyes lit up, finally a chance to learn from the best.

"That ain't an agreement, sweetheart" he playfully clipped the back of your head with his gloved hand before turning towards your shack. You rubbed where his hand smacked, wincing at the sudden jerk he gave you.

"Well while you're thinking about it" you jogged up to him "I'll be picking up my mini nukes to wipe this raider settlement from the map"

He scoffs "And what happens if I say no to this little adventure of yours hm? You gonna take the big bad raiders on all by ya lonesome?"

"Oh you're not going to decline" you state matter of factly with a sly grin.

"And what makes you say that?" He asks with growing suspicion.

"Who else do you get your chems from, Cooper?" He halts in his path so you seize the opportunity to block him.

"That supply you're collecting is my last batch. It'll last a week." You lied. Of course you had more but he doesn't know that, and you never gave him a reason to not trust you. "You think you can get more by the time you turn feral?"

He scowled knowing he was trapped "vicious little thing" he murmured.

You loved the control over him and revelled in it as you started your journey together with spring in your step, while he grumpily marched beside you.

Days and nights passed with you trying to learn new skills from the ghoul. You were less subtle about it than you thought and he caught on quick, teasing you for your lack of skill with a gun, or how your small frame made it harder for you to carry heavier loads. It infuriated you which he found entertaining, He'd call you "Sweetheart" or "Darlin" to make it worse and he'd flash that charming smile when you got flustered.

Finally the settlement came into view. Considering it was raider territory it was incredibly well built. Realisation sets in that you may have underestimated the scale of this job, even with Cooper by your side, the sheer volume of the task was becoming apparent.

He saw your fright and chuckled, thinking he had won.

"I'm not going back" you stated defiantly before he had the chance to speak.

"Didn't think you would, darlin" he whispered. you shivered not realising how close he was. You thought he hadn't noticed, but he always noticed. At first he expected to be like your babysitter, but the more time he spent around you the more he realised how skilled and independent you really are. He'd grown closer to you in the few days you spent together. And more fond of having you as his companion than he'd care to admit.

The pair of you spent the day scouting the city, planning your move and finally preparing your chems and ammo.

"The fuck are you doing?" Cooper questioned, slightly bewildered as you began to remove your coat and leather armour.

"Can't hide with this shit on! I'm like a shadow, a silent assassin, ya know" You explained as you turned your back to him, throwing your dusty jacket to one side revealing a black skin tight catsuit underneath. It hugged your small frame perfectly, revealing the curves of your tits and ass. Cooper had took pleasure in making you flustered for days so you purposefully took your sweet time removing your pants. Catching a glimpse of his eyes as you threw your pants with the rest of your discarded clothing, you were shocked to find a positively feral gleam in his eye.

"See something you like?" you teased, he groaned in response turning away from you with a glare.

"You ought to think real hard before teasing a man like that, sweetheart" he threatened. You simply giggled in response, thrilled with the effect your body had on him.

You tossed your pile of discarded armour at him with a remark to keep them safe with your pack. He raised a brow in question.

"I only carry my chems, pistol and blades on a job"

His eyes widened

"Damn, Darlin you really are crazy"

You grinned slyly at him.

"Just good at what I do. Besides I have my big bad ghoul to protect me" as you said it you realised how flirty you sounded, he brought out a seductive side of you, and you adored the new found power it gave you.

"Plus I'm loaded with chems" you said as you took your first bout of Med X.

"Ata girl" he laughed watching you get your first hit.

Entering through an air vent you both quietly made your way through the small space, making sure to give your tight ass a little wiggle knowing Cooper was right behind you. You moved easily in the small space while Copper had a harder time being quiet. Eventually you came to the end of the vent where you both could see into the heart of the city.

To your surprise the raiders had created an entire civilisation, with power and water supplies and food.

"Look" Cooper came up behind you unexpectedly, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath grazed your cheek. He gestured to what can only be described as a market. The centre of the city.

"That's where I plant the explosives" you exclaimed.

"There's still too many raiders around, and with all these lights I'll be caught before I even reach it" You spun round to face him, he was so close you were practically kissing.

"I'll cut the power, cause a scene and distract them all" His hushed voice snapped you back to reality.

You nodded in agreement "And we escape back through here, but if things go tits up just get out anyway we can."

"You got it sweetheart, now show me how good you are" he knew you better than you expected having only travelled together for a few days. Motivating your competitive side and need to prove yourself sparked a fire in you and he grinned at how fickle you were.

The plan was in motion, you stuck to as little shadows as you could and took your time careful not to be seen while Cooper, true to his word shot up the power cables and caused havoc below. The shadows gave you confidence and moved as quick as you could only taking a matter of minutes to reach the centre where you skilfully planted the explosive and set the timer to blow. Wasting no time you climbed and ran across the rooftops back to Cooper who actually seemed to be enjoying himself. Through the flashes of gunfire in the dark you made out the cowboy silhouette and watched from a far as he gunned down his enemies,  it was incredible to witness, the precision and fluidity of every movement. You caught yourself swooning before diving in to help. Dancing around him in the darkness, the raiders around you dropped like flies but realisation sets in. You both got carried away and in a brief moment of silence as you felled the first wave of enemies, you looked at him in horror. The bomb was about to explode. He grabbed your wrist hard and you both ran for the vent.

Your heart raced from the adrenaline and the chems were beginning to wear off but you couldn't stop. Crawling back through the vent was a struggle and as the bomb erupted, violent quakes made the metal fall apart beneath you. You both rolled across the dust and used the momentum to scramble to your feet before desperately fleeing from the radiation spilling over the walls.

Once a safe distance was reached you fell to the ground, panting hard, a satisfied grin plastered shamelessly on your dirty face. You looked up at him to find him breathing heavily too, smirking at you, pride gleaming in his eyes.

He tossed your pack at you "Vicious thing" he drawled, slowly, teasingly.

You blushed turning away to hide your giddiness. As you began to raid your pack for water you caught a glimpse of a shadow beneath the cloud of radiation in the city. You both watched as it grew,

"What the...?" you trailed off unsure of what exactly was happening until Cooper enlightened you, voice full of alarm.

"It's a feral horde, we gotta move darlin, fast!"

You took a big gulp of water before scrambling to your feet and throwing your pack on your back. Coming down from your chem high made every movement hurt, your muscles ached and your lungs burned from running.

"Cooper...wait!" you gulped down as much hot air as you could between yelling.

"Ain't got time, darlin they'll be on you sooner than you think!" He marched on.

"No... I mean....we can't lead them back to Filly!"

He stopped in his tracks realising what you were saying.

"They've got...my scent...they'll follow...I can't"

"I know Sweetheart, I know." He seemed almost caring as he approached you, thinking rapidly for a plan to get you out alive. You couldn't run far in your state, and your body can only take so many more chems before they break you. With the first wave of ferals rapidly approaching Cooper dragged you to a nearby apartment block, barricading the way as much as you both could before climbing the stairs. The pair of you hurried into the nearest room with a door and barricaded that too. You collapsed into a tattered old armchair taking a moment to examine your surroundings. The exterior wall was almost completely gone, exposing you to the elements. Thankfully the room wasn't too high, a swift jump and you could reach the next rooftop. Cooper interrupted your thoughts of escape by draping his coat across your shoulders in an attempt to smell more ghoulish.

"You just smell too damn delicious" he sighed before checking the door for sounds of ferals.

"But where did they come from!?" You asked, desperately wondering where your plan went so horribly wrong. "Radiation from a mini nuke don't work that fast"

Cooper shook his head in response as he approached you "They must've been underground or somethin"

He tensed up suddenly, putting a gloved finger to your lips to hush you. Despite the danger you faced the temptation to take his finger into your mouth with your tongue was strong. You controlled yourself but a light dusting of pink crossed your cheeks as your mind delved to filthier thoughts. Pulling you out of your imagination, he gestured for you to stand and come closer to him. His back against the wall as he listened, he pulled you close to his body and wrapped you in his arms, covering you with his scent as much as he could. But the ferals still lingered. You could feel your heart beat quicken being this close you him, you looked up at him a foul thought crossed your mind but it could work, and with no other option you demanded in a hushed whisper.

"Spit on me"

Taken off guard Cooper smiles that slanted grin that makes you tingle.

"You don't know what your askin for, darlin" he whispers.

"I do!" You clench your fists into his shirt pulling you closer to him "Cooper spit on me...please?" You sounded so desperate, the worst part was you wanted it even without the ferals chasing you. You wanted to be controlled by him and hearing your own desperate begging turned you on even more.

The ferals creeping behind the door grew restless, clicking louder and more frequently than before.

Cooper curses under his breath before leading you to the crumbling wall opposite the door. He thrusts you against it arms on either side of your head preventing your escape, not that you wanted to.

"Watch my back, Darlin..." he whispers as he brought a gloved hand towards your face, his thumb pulled your chin down to part your lips.

"...And open wide"

He smiled as you obeyed, blushing at the shameful act and how much your pussy throbbed from it. He hovered above you slowly, painfully letting his warm saliva drip from his chapped lips and into your open mouth. His fluid mixed with your own as you swallowed with ease.

"good girl" his voice was a hushed whisper and that comment alone made your knees weak. How you craved being tormented by him.

You're so flustered and distracted by his taste you didn't notice the silence that came over you until he mentioned it.

"Think your filthy little plan worked" he mused, pulling away noticing your pained expression as you lost his touch and the warmth of his body. The cool air snapped you back to reality, regaining control of yourself you glared at him, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. You yanked his coat from your shoulders and tossed it back at him in defiance. He chuckled at your attempt to regain control, both knowing you were completely at his mercy.

"Now lets see if we can't collect that reward" he said, making his way to the nearby rooftop.

Finally just as the sun was rising you're given a moment to revel in your achievements. He caught the gleam in your eye as you followed him.

"Gotta admit, you're a hell of a hunter, darlin!" He stated, you smiled with confidence.

"I aint just a pretty face ya know?"

"Yeah..." he eyed you greedily from behind "you're a vicious little freak"

His crude comment made you stumble slightly and he laughed. You blushed, embarrassed at yourself for getting flustered so easily around him. No one had ever made you so excited before, or made you feel so attractive. There was an undeniable spark between you, and Coopers relentless teasing amplified it. But you were just as bad, using your body to make him fantasise over you. Cooper couldn't help himself, it had been so long since he had his way with such a submissive little freak.

You were on the move all day, having not slept for over 24 hours now, exhaustion was setting in and the radiation from Coopers saliva was starting to make you feel nauseous. Cooper noticed you were growing paler with every step and dragging your feet. He sighed, rolling his eyes before kneeling down presenting you with his back.

"Get on" he ordered,

You were puzzled, raising a suspicious brow you responded "I can manage"

"I won't tell you again. Get. On." he was stern, and as usual you obeyed, that little spark igniting in your belly at his harsh tone. Part of you wondered what he would do if you defied him. But you knew your limits. A punishment from the big bad ghoul should not be taken lightly, no matter what dirty fantasies your imagination dreamed up.

"Ata girl. Not much further now and we can get some rest"

"Mhm..."You nodded lazily, the full force of exhaustion hitting you as you melted into the warmth of his back. "Thank you, Cooper" you whispered through dry, cracked lips as your eyelids began to feel heavy.

"Don't want you dyin on me yet, little hunter" You smiled weakly holding him tighter, feeling safe and protected.

When you woke it was dark save for a small flame burning out on an old cooking station. Your eyes, still feeling heavy blinked slowly a few times gazing into the embers of the fire pit. You were wrapped in something heavy and warm. Snuggling into it more it smelled of gunpowder and leather. Cooper's coat. He had laid you down on the porch bench of an almost entirely destroyed farm house while he sat on the steps coaxing the fire until you stirred.

"You awake?" he asked in a low voice.

"Mmmm" you groaned in response letting him know you were but you didn't want to be.

He chuckled before rising from his spot on the stairs, just as you were drifting back into a pleasant slumber he dragged his coat from you, taking you with it. Rolling to the floor to gave a slight squeak in fright at the sudden aggressive movement.

"If I'd known you'd squeal for me I'd have done that hours ago" he remarked with a flirtatious grin.

He tossed his coat back over his broad shoulders and sat legs spread on the bench you were sleeping peacefully on. You took your place on the step beside the fire in a huff and took the moment to raid your pack for radaway and food.

"Thought you were being a gentleman for a moment" you pouted.

"Oohh, my little hunter got her claws out huh?" he mused, you simply glared in response, munching grumpily

"I ain't yours!" you snapped under your breath but still loud enough for him to hear. You were testing your luck now, seeing how far you could go before he lost his patience with you; before he stopped calling you his sweetheart and started calling you his brat.

"That so?" he asked, rising from his spot on the bench and sauntering over to you "Weren't saying that when you were begging for my spit in your mouth, were you... Darlin?" he hissed the pet name in your ear giving you goosebumps. You considered quitting while you were ahead but you kept in control, turning to face him.

"I don't beg" your voice sounded firm but your body betrayed you as your cheeks began to heat up and your breathing quickened. Your lust filled eyes meet one another. It's intense but you don't look away, you won't relinquish control just yet.

He raised a brow, not convinced in the slightest "good girls don't lie..." he stroked his gloved fingers along the length of your jaw and reached down your neck to the zipper at the top of your dusty black suit. "So...are you a good girl? or a bad girl?"

He pulled the zipper down slowly revealing the smooth skin of your chest. Sweat dripping down your cleavage . You gulped, your breathing became shaky. You struggled to think, to find any words at all. "Oh sweetheart..." he spoke softly, exaggerated pity in his tone "is the big bad ghoul breaking you already?"

"...You know exactly what you're doing to me" it came out as a soft moan and the hunger in his eyes was too much for you to bare. You clenched your thighs together desperate for some friction, for some contact.

He chuckled as you lowered your gaze, his other hand reached up to your messy hair. He gripped it firmly, forcing you to present your neck to him, "consider this revenge for teasing me all day with that irresistible body of yours" he growled harshly in your ear.

"I... I never...meant..." he grips your hair harder forcing a pleasured gasp to escape your lips.

"good girls don't lie" he reminded you, almost thrilled at the idea of getting to punish you.

"C-coop, I'm sorry" you ended up right where he wanted you, begging and squirming in his grip and it only took mere moments.

His hand which pulled down your zipper grazed your thigh "now I don't know if I believe you, sweetheart after all the lyin" his hand pulled your thighs apart, the loss of friction made you whimper

"n-no, Cooper please!" you surprised yourself how easy you gave in. But you were growing desperate, all the tension built throughout the day was overflowing. You needed him, craved him, wanted to be used by him.

"Oh? I thought you didn't beg"

"Coopeeerrr!" you whined, he knew what you wanted he just wanted to hear you say it.

"Beg for me, like you did back there" his hot breath grazed your neck, one hand still gripped your hair while the other explored your body over the suit. Purposefully avoiding your hardening nipples and throbbing pussy.

"I need you..." you gasped, writhing under him, trying to get his wandering hand to touch your sensitive areas "...please, Cooper! fuck me!"

That satisfied him enough to reward you. Without hesitation he attacked your neck with his mouth, licking and biting, marking you like you were his prey. You let out a soft moan at his sudden aggression, he was holding back for so long he couldn't stop himself from devouring you any longer. His wandering hand finally found your hardened nipples. You arched your back into his hand as he played with them, squeezing, pinching circling them with his gloved fingers.

"M-more" you moaned, you felt his lips curl into a smile as he abused your neck.

"What's the magic word?" he pulled away awaiting your response, seeing how much of a mess you were already made him hungry for more.

"... Please?"

He lunged at you, his dry calloused lips collided with yours. He was rough, biting your bottom lip, barely allowing you a chance to catch your breath as he pushed you down on the rough wooden steps. His hands moved to free your upper body from the constraints of your suit while yours shakily pushed the leather coat from his shoulders.

Finally allowing you a moment to breath he sat up to admire his work. You were red in the face, dripping in sweat, your lips and neck littered with bruises and bite marks, your eyes clouded with pleasure.

"Fuck, Darlin you're like a bitch in heat"

"... I'm your bitch" you moaned shamelessly, he grinned at your obedience, tracing your lips with a gloved finger. You licked the length of his index finger before catching the tip between your teeth and slowly dragging the leather from his scarred flesh.

"That's my good little hunter"

You wrapped your legs around him signalling your need for more, for him to fill your aching cunt. You grinded your hips against the bulge in his pants as he leaned in to abuse your bare breasts with his teeth. His glove free hand reached into your panties earning satisfied moan from you as he circled your soaked clit with calloused fingers.

"Already soaked for me, filthy little thing"

You gripped his shoulders, bucking your hips into his hand. He watched your face contort with pleasure, closing your eyes tight feeing humiliated knowing he was watching every twitch of pleasure run through you.

"Cooper... Please... Spit on me"

"Such a little freak" his voice was husky and low, his fingers circling your clit moved to slick folds of your pussy, his gloved hand pulled your chin down to open your mouth. Warm saliva dripped down your waiting tongue, you swallowed, moaning at the taste of him. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as his finger slipped into your waiting pussy, you clenched around him, releasing a long moan. With every pump of his finger you bucked your hips, his pace quickened and the ache deep in your cunt grew. It didn't take long for him to slide a second finger in, stretching your walls, earning harsh gasps from you and aggressive thrusts of your hips. Your body shivered as you were beginning to unravel beneath him.

"look at me" he demanded. You bit your lip, eyes screwed shut too embarrassed for him to see you this way.

"C'mon, baby be a good girl, let me look you in the eye as I make you cum." His voice so alluring, so intoxicating, you couldn't help but obey even through all the humiliation.

You opened your eyes to meet his lustful gaze burning through you, he watched you like a starved beast. His fingers curled inside you finding that one spot that made you see stars, you arched your back at the sudden burst of pleasure that soured through you.

"Fuck, Cooper don't stop!" you begged. You were so close, your moans grew louder with every thrust of his hand. He watched you getting closer and closer to your climax, every sound you made, the way you looked at him, desperation all over your face, he could watch you like this all day.

You cursed as your felt your climax come over you, your body twitched uncontrollably and you thrust your hips into his hand wanting to ride out the last waves of pleasure. But he wouldn't let you. You whined as he pulled his fingers from your tight pussy.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm nowhere near done with you yet." he was desperate to feel you, to be inside you. He unbuckled his belt while you frantically peeled the rest of your suit from your legs. His cock sprang free from his pants and you gazed wide eyed at the size of him. He laughed at your reaction. Like the rest of him his cock was rough, scarred and he was big. Bigger than you expected.

He chuckled at your reaction, "Dont worry, Darlin I'll try not to break you"

You took him in your hand and he inhaled sharply, surprised at your sudden touch. You slid you fingers across the length of his shaft, feeling every groove as you guided him to your dripping hole.

"I want you to break me" you moaned as he slid inside.

"Fuck, you're gonna regret saying that" he growled before pulling his length out and slamming back into you, your tight hole stretched to fit all of him and he was relentless. Just what you asked for.

Overwhelming pleasure coursed through you body as he pounded into you. You threw your head back in ecstasy, moaning incoherent sentences, wanting him to know how cock drunk you were. He gripped the back of your head pulling your face close to his before spitting in your open mouth once more. Your tongue rolled from between you plump lips inviting him for more. Instead he brought his thumb to your tongue and you took it into your mouth tracing circles around it with your tongue. The sight of you behaving so dirty with no shame drove him crazy, his cock twitched inside you and you clenched around him feeling your next orgasm approach. He felt your cunt quiver around him so he grabbed your waist tightly, fingernails digging into your flesh as he fucked you deeper. The new depth he reached made your body convulse beneath him. Your toes curled as he mercilessly pounded that same sensitive spot over and over.

"P-Please Cooper..." you begged "make me cum all over your fat cock."

He cursed at your lewdness, loving the obscenity that poured from your mouth.

"fuck, you're such a dirty little bitch" he removed one hand from your waist to toy with one of your breasts, spanking them as they bounced while he fucked your sweet cunt.

The sudden pain from his rough treatment of your breasts was enough to send you over the edge, you screamed his name, fingers grasping and whatever they could find. Your cum soaked his cock and he was mercilessly riding you out of your orgasm.

"You like it rough, my little slut?" He shamed you, and you loved it. You nodded, moaning uncontrollably, unable to form words, your mind was foggy, your entire body clenching, clinging to him. He pulled out suddenly making you whimper at how empty you felt without him. But it didn't last long, he grinned with a wild look in his eye and flipped you so he could fuck you from behind.

Grabbing a fist full of your knotted hair, he pulled your head back hard while simultaneously thrusting his cock back into your pulsing depths. You let out a primal moan at the perfect mix of pain and pleasure, spreading your cum soaked thighs wider for him. You allowed him to pound the depths of your hole and your body shook as he thrust his length in fast and hard, dominating you.

"Tell me, who you belong to?" He demanded. He knew you could barely speak but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Ah...y-you" You managed to moan between hard thrusts. It wasn't enough for him, he brought his other hand from your hip and smacked your ass hard. You felt another orgasm coming and your pulsing walls felt his cock twitch letting you know he was close too.

"Say it!" he ordered, pulling your hair harder.

"Aha...f-fuck, Coop... I-I'm yours!" He spanked you again. The stinging pain rippled through your body and your vision went blurry. The desperate need to cum again made you thrust your ass back to meet his hard strokes.

"I-I'm your filthy little slut, Cooper!" You screamed as his thrusts became more sporadic. His nails dug into your hip as he fucked himself hard in your hole. He pulled your head up by your hair, bringing his lips to your ear.

"good girl" he hissed. Waves of pleasure shook your body as he made you cum again. Soaking his cock once more, your swollen pussy quivered around him. He let out a feral growl as you squeezed him. His name spilled from your lips and he jerked your head to the side to allow access to your neck. His teeth sunk into your soft flesh, he was rough as he claimed you. Holding his cock deep inside your tight cunt, he spilled his milky fluid inside, releasing a low groan into your neck as he came.

Slowly he slid himself in and out few more times, riding out his high, making sure to fill you up with all of his cum. Then he gently released you from his grip and you slumped against the porch step with a final moan, unable to keep yourself up. He slid himself from your sore cunt and you winced, spinning on your back to face him. He gazed over your shaking form, drenched in sweat and cum, bruises and bitemarks covered your neck and tits, your eyes glazed over panting heavily. He broke you, just like you asked.

"You wear my bite marks well, Darlin" he said proudly, gently tracing his fingers over the marks on your neck.

Your lips curled into a mischievous smile "You'll make those ferals jealous." you said weakly.

He laughed, "Oh Darlin, I ain't gonna let a creature on this planet get a taste of you" He grabbed your discarded undies and began cleaning you up with them. He was careful, delicate even, the complete opposite to how he just handled you. He caught your surprised expression.

"Gotta make sure my good little slut is looked after" he smirked, your jaw dropped remembering the filth that poured from your mouth as he fucked you. You were mortified, covering your face with your hands too ashamed to look at him.

He chuckled at your reaction, dragging his coat to cover you from the chill of the wasteland before tucking his dick back in his pants.

You finally found the strength to sit up on the steps and he sat beside you watching as the sun peeked out from over the horizon.

"Can you stand? I ain't carryin you again" his softness faded and he was back to his harsh and playful ways.

"I can walk myself, thank you very much!" You huffed.

He raised a brow "Oh? You ain't broken enough then, sweetheart"

You smirked "Guess you'll have to try again when we get our estate"

"Such a tease" he groaned "I'll be punishin you later, slut" his tone was dark as he threatened you, pulling you by the chin to meet his gaze. You knew he was only testing you the first time, seeing how much you could take. But next time he'd make you cry. Next time he'd make sure you can't walk for days.

#the ghoul smut #smut #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout #the ghoul #fallout series #fallout show #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout tv show #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #lemon #cooper howard #spicy content #spicy fic #spicy fantasy #fanfic #degrading k1nk #spank my pussy #spank my ass

[honey-on-your-tongue]

human!reader calling jake daddy everywhere😫😳

JAKE IS JUST SO DADDY OMFGGG

---

“Daddy.”

The first time you said it, Jake paused. You called him Daddy. And the things that did to him.

He hadn't slept that first night, his hand fisted around his thick cock as he replayed the way you'd said that word over and over again. He groaned at the mere thought of what you'd look like riding his cock, your pretty eyes wet with tears of pleasure, the word Daddy leaving you in moans as he fucked you dumb...

He'd encouraged you to use the nickname. So now you do just that. All. The. Time.

“Daddy,” you say as Jake walks around the lab, playing with a few of the chem kits, “pass me that jar.”

You motion to a jar full of some kind of plant and he grabs it. He walks to you, holding the item out to you. But just as you're about to reach for it, he raises it above your head. Way above.

You pout a little, giving him a look. “Daddy,” you whine in complaint. “I need the samples.”

“You didn't say please, baby,” he teases, grinning as his hand trails down your spine. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, give me the jar,” you say, staring up at him.

He grins, leaning towards you. He kisses your forehead softly, your scent invading his senses. He hands you the jar, his heart fluttering as you smile softly.

While you turn to your work, he moves to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Daddy,” you say softly, giggling as you lean back into his embrace.

It's a sweet moment at first. But it's quick to transform.

Jake is obsessed with you. With how much smaller you are, how strong he is compared to you. How you're everything that reminds him of Earth while also being part of his new life. The sensation of you in his arms, this pretty little thing he can toss around so easily, always turns him on.

He thinks about grabbing you and just bending you over the lab table you're working on, but he knows your research is important to you.

So, he asks, “Does this need to be timed?”

“What? This?” You hold up the vial where you're measuring one component or another.

“Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek gently.

“No. Why do you ask?”

“Because...,” he whispers, moving a little so his hardening cock presses against your back. Your breath hitches, he hears it.

He can't wait to hear you cry out his name.

His hands move down to your hips, gently massaging your delicate skin. “Is that a yes, baby?” he asks lowly.

You turn around to face him, those big doe eyes so fucking pretty...

You nod. “Yes, Daddy.”

You—sweet, young, tiny little thing—are giving him permission to do whatever he wants to you. And he won't waste the opportunity.

He grins. “That's my good babygirl.”

-----

I think I kinda got off-track??? This was supposed to be a daddy fic and ended up being something else 😭😭

---

Blog masterlist

---

Taglist:

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1 @letsloveimagines @eyweveng

*if you want me to add you to any of my taglists, lmk through inbox, message me or leave a comment!

#inbox <3 #avatar jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar smut #jake sully #jake sully smut #daddy jake sully #inbox requests #requests always open #ily you all

[sluttywoozi]

First Things First | Part 1 of 2

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~3.8k

Notes/Warnings: fem reader, college au, cute and clueless soccer star san, swearing, suggestiveness, alcohol, no sex in this part sry

Backstory I didn't feel like writing: everyone's on the soccer team (8 makes 1 team) and they all live in a scholarship house together plus 3 randos i guess bc there's 11 people on a soccer team apparently just fill it up w ur other favs

San’s crush on you was innocent enough, at first.

You were Wooyoung’s chem tutor last spring so you’d come around the house sometimes, always greeting him warmly with a grin and a short hug before asking how practice was going. San would battle a shiver at the way your body felt pressed against his then get halfway through a response before Woo got annoyed at sharing your attention and tugged you to the study room, leaving him behind with a defeated smile on his face and heat on the back of his neck.  

Then summer came and went, the weeks passing quickly with San’s classes and off-season training, and the fall semester started up before he even had time to catch his breath. He’d walked into his first class and there you were, front and center and scribbling in your planner. The seat next to you was empty and San didn’t know anyone else, so he didn’t see any harm in sitting with you. 

That doesn’t mean harm wasn’t caused, though.

Really, sitting next to you was the first in a series of mistakes that led him to where he is now: waiting to see if you’ll show up to this party and fighting to shove down the feelings bubbling up in his chest.

It used to be a lot easier but now, he’s spent too much time with you, enough to imagine how you’d feel in his arms and where you’d want to go on a date and what you’d look like in his bed, and it’s these images that flash through his mind whenever he tries to hold a conversation with you. 

That’s San’s other problem - for the life of him, he cannot talk to you like a normal person. He can talk to other girls just fine, even when they’re obviously flirting with him, but you’re different. He’s always either stuttering or mumbling, speaking way too fast or not speaking at all, his every interaction with you tinged by embarrassment and self-consciousness. You’re always patient with him, your hand squeezing his arm in encouragement and your sweet smile never faltering. It’s part of why he’s so into you, just knowing you’re along for the ride whether he can get the words out or not. 

San can feel his heart start to race, feel it thump in his chest like a jackrabbit when he spots you through the doorway.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You're here. Fuck. 

He’s in charge of mixing drinks tonight but he wonders if he can get another job, not feeling very effective with the way his hands are suddenly shaking. The vodka spills over the shot cup, pooling on the counter and dripping off the edge before he can throw enough paper towels down. He can hear Seonghwa scolding him in the back of his mind, telling him to at least disinfect the floor now that there’s liquor all over it, so he mops a messy trail around the kitchen and prays no one comes looking for a drink before he finishes cleaning. 

He’s ducked behind the island, gathering up all of the used towels in his hands when he hears voices. Your voice, more specifically, plus another he doesn’t recognize.

Fuck, he probably reeks of vodka and now he’s got all these nasty towels in his hands and you’re here, in the kitchen, laughing at someone’s shitty joke. 

You should be laughing at his shitty jokes, San laments, debating whether it would be worth it to try to army crawl away or if he should just end his misery now and show himself. Your voice grows louder and San knows he has to make a decision, can practically feel the countdown blaring in his mind as the distance between you and his hiding spot shrinks. 

San pops up before it’s too late, a sheepish smile on his face and his alcohol soaked hands hidden behind his back. You’re standing by the counter with a guy he doesn’t know, tapping your fingers on the formica and looking around for the mixers. You’d jumped when he appeared, he notes with a grimace. He didn’t mean to startle you but it’s obvious he has by the wideness of your eyes and the hand over your heart. 

You break into a grin before he starts to feel too guilty, jumping toward him with a shout of his name and leaning in to wrap your arms around his neck. You smell like your perfume and a bit of the wine he’s noticed you like, and you’re so warm against him, so soft he could close his eyes and fall asleep right now. He presses his cheek to your head in lieu of hugging you back, but notices the joy in your eyes is weaker as you pull away, your gaze falling to the strain of his biceps as he holds the soggy paper towels behind his back. 

He’d rather embarrass himself than make you feel sad so he’s quick to reveal them, explaining with a crooked smile and bunched up shoulders that there had been a spill and he’s only just finished cleaning up. You giggle with fondness but the guy with you laughs at him the wrong way, prompting a glare from San and an elbow in the stomach from you. 

“This is my roommate’s little brother, I’ll be done with babysitting duty soon,” you promise apologetically. 

“I’m not a baby,” he sputters, rubbing his stomach and slinking to the other side of the kitchen. He opens coolers until he finds a White Claw, leaning against the counter and texting rapidly between sips, the dings and clicks pouring tension into San’s neck. 

“Yes, he is,” you whisper once your tag-along is far enough away, “He’s been driving me nuts.”

San pouts at you sympathetically as he tosses the towels in the trash and washes his hands, turning just enough to keep you in his line of sight and asking if you want a drink. You think about it for a second before declining with a small shake of your head, your nose scrunching in a way that makes San want to do something ridiculous like kiss it and then ask you to marry him. 

You chat with him while he fulfills his team-assigned duties, staring at his hands as he mixes drinks and checking your phone when someone wanders into the kitchen looking to fill their cup. He hopes you don’t feel like you have to stay with him, tries to figure out a way to let you know you can go without making you think that’s what he wants. 

San wants the opposite, wants you to stay and talk to him all night, pay attention to him and no one else, but he also doesn’t want you to feel trapped. He’s nowhere close to a plan when your roommate rounds the corner, followed closely by a whining Wooyoung and a silently suffering Yeosang. San can tell by the corners of Yeo’s mouth that Woo’s been badgering him for at least fifteen minutes already and bites his lips to stifle the chuckle, knowing from the many times he’s been in Yeosang’s shoes that the last thing he needs is someone laughing at him. 

Your roommate rolls her eyes and shoves a cup in Wooyoung’s gesticulating hands before telling him to shut the fuck up and take a drink, letting her focus shift to you and San once Wooyoung falls silent. He straightens up as best he can, feeling weirdly exposed as her gaze volleys between the two of you and hoping he passes whatever test she’s obviously putting him through. 

He must because she moves on to her brother after a short thirty seconds of agony, shouting a goodbye and dragging him from the room with his elbow held tightly in her grasp. Yeosang had escaped in the meantime and Wooyoung ran after him as soon as he noticed his absence, which left you and San alone in the kitchen again.

The thumping music dulls to a low hum as you catch his gaze and step over, your hand resting next to his on the counter. He’s not sure what exactly you’re doing but you’re close enough for him to feel your body heat, and it’s all San can do to stay still and let you get closer. He’s blinking too much, he knows, probably has the dumbest look on his face, but he doesn’t know what else to do. 

You’re only inches from him now and you smell so good and you’re so fucking pretty, and San knows he’d give anything just to feel you. The desperation is starting to claw its way up his throat as want settles deep in his stomach, his jeans tightening before he even has the chance to beg his body to stay calm. 

He doesn’t think you can tell but he’s scared nonetheless, terrified that you’ll notice and think he’s a perv and never want to speak to him or see him again and he’ll get super depressed and fall behind in his classes and get kicked off the soccer team and lose his scholarsh-

“Do you wanna go up to your room? It’s getting a bit crowded down here,” you propose, your eyebrows raised and a vulnerable look in your eyes. 

Up to his…? Oh, he must look sick or something. That’s much better than the alternative though, so he responds, “Yeah, um, I probably should go upstairs, I’m getting a bit tired.”

Your face falls and you step back, the vulnerability shuttering into a blankness he’s never seen before, and it occurs to San that that wasn’t what you meant at all. 

“OH! Oh. Uhm, you meant us… together? Like we both go to my room? Together?” San clarifies frantically, a hand falling to cover yours on the counter before it can slip off. 

“Yeah, San, I meant we should go up together,” you confirm with a small, breathy laugh. 

He can feel his dimples creasing his cheeks and wishes he could smile at you with anything but the most obvious crush of all time, but he knows it’s hopeless at this point. It’s been months now, months of seeing you in class and around campus, at parties and games, and feeling the you-shaped cavity in his chest grow and grow and grow. 

He’s pretty sure it’s starting to fill as you pull him up the stairs. He tries to ignore the catcalling of your shared friends, knowing you probably just want to talk or something, but his eyes catch on the movement of your hips as you climb and now all he can think about is what they’d feel like between his hands. That’s not exactly a new train of thought for San but he’s usually able to keep it under control when he’s with you, and he almost feels like he’s voluntarily walking into the lion’s den as you enter his room and he closes the door. 

It’s not too messy at least, just some folded laundry on the bed and his books spread out on his desk. He’d changed his sheets yesterday morning and there’s nothing embarrassing out as far as he can see, except for his printed Overwatch stats but he’s not sure you’d recognize them anyway, so it should be fine. 

Everything should be fine, so why is San’s heart trying to break out of his rib cage right now? 

It only gets worse when you plop down on his bed with a bounce, folding your hands in your lap and looking up at him expectantly. 

“Uh, do you want, like, a blanket or something?” San offers as he looks around the room in an effort to avoid your gaze. It doesn’t work very well - his room isn’t all that big and he can’t stop his eyes from snapping back to you every other second. You look on with a small smile, your face softening before you gently pat the spot next to you. 

He surreptitiously rubs his clammy palms on his jeans, tugging them down to allow himself a little more room (just in case) and sitting carefully on the comforter beside you. He’d left over a foot of space, but his mattress sinks in the middle and he finds himself much closer to you than he’d meant to be. You don’t look like you mind, the corners of your lips perking up and one leg lifting to fold on the bed as you turn to face him. 

San scrambles to figure out what to say, how to break the ice, though he has a sneaking suspicion he’s the only one who feels like there’s ice to break. 

“So, how’s your studying goi-” San starts, but you cut him off. 

“San, can I be honest with you? Like, really honest?” You ask, the only sign of your nervousness being the lip bitten between your teeth. 

He glances down at the hand you placed on his knee, his cheeks glowing with heat as he stutters, “Y-Yeah, of course you can.”

You take a deep breath and begin, “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, right?” 

He nods, opening his mouth to tell you how much your friendship means to him but closing it with a snap when you breathe out, “Hold on, please, I’ll never be able to tell you if I don’t say it all at once.”

San nods again, pointedly pursing his lips as he waits with bated breath. 

You break eye contact for a second and when your eyes return to his, they’re brimming with anxious energy. He wishes he could reassure you, but you’d asked him not to speak and he’s also probably more nervous than you right now. Honestly, he kind of wants to make up some excuse and flee the room, the house, the city, because he thinks he knows what you’re about to say. 

You’re about to tell him you know he’s in love with you, and that you’re sorry but you don’t feel the same way, and probably also that you have a crush on Seonghwa or Yunho. He wouldn’t blame you, they’re handsome and smooth and don’t get heart palpitations when you talk to them, and they’re not vir-

“San, are you okay? Did you hear anything I just said?” You question, pulling him out of his head and pulling his focus back to you. 

“I didn’t, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Please, tell me again?” 

Your face crumples before you cover it with both hands and whine, “God, I don’t know if I can do it again, once was hard enough.” 

“No, no, no, please don’t cry, please, do you want me to cry? I’ll cry too, if it helps,” San begs as he wraps his fingers around your wrists and pulls, uncovering your face only to have you stubbornly tuck your chin against your shoulder. 

“I’m not crying, San, I’m embarrassed.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I didn’t think it would be this hard to tell you I have feelings for you! I almost did it in the kitchen but you looked so nervous, and I assumed it was just the crowd so I thought, ‘Oh, maybe we should go upstairs, that should be easier’, and then it wasn’t easier! It was harder, and now I have to do it again!”

You groan in defeat and fall backwards on his bed, your eyes welling with frustrated tears and your arms crossing over your chest. San sits there, static ringing in his ears and your half-shouted confession running through his brain. It takes him longer than it should to process your words but as soon as he does, he flops down next to you like all of his strings have been cut. 

San feels drunk, or high, or something, as he stares over at you open-mouthed. 

“You have feelings for me? Like… romantic feelings? Are you sure?” 

Your head tilts to the side, your suspicious glare shifting into an expression of incredulity as you realize he’s serious. He flinches at the soft smack you land on his shoulder but grins when you start poking and pinching at the muscle with your fingers. 

“Yes, San, I’m sure I have romantic feelings for you,” you affirm with only a bit of impatience, avoiding his eyes and pressing your fingertips into his pecs. 

You seem kind of dejected and it occurs to him that he hasn’t reciprocated yet, that you don’t know he feels the same way, and he could kick himself for fucking this up so badly. He doesn’t know how to fix this, what to say to make you understand why he’s so nervous, why he struggles so much with you. 

Instead of something normal, San blurts out, “I’m fully in love with you.” 

Oh no. Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He clenches his eyes shut and rolls away from you with a groan, curling up as small as he can as the shame roils in his belly. The party rages downstairs, sounds floating in under the door and growing louder in the silence of his bedroom. 

“We’re kind of a disaster, huh?” You giggle as you shuffle closer, one arm wrapping around his waist and your knees notching in behind his.

San tenses up before relaxing completely, turning under your arm and tugging you closer with a hand on your waist. 

“Yeah, honestly, I’ve never… done this before,” he admits, forcing himself to hold your gaze as his fingers anxiously drum your side. “Are you really okay with me being in love with you?”

Your radiant smile could blind him and he instinctively mirrors you, his shy grin growing and his other arm sliding beneath you to pull you into his chest as you sigh, “Sannie, I’m more than okay with you being in love with me. I love you too, I was just being coy because I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Seriously?!” 

San barely catches your nod before he’s surging forward and pressing his lips to yours, still smiling too wide for it to be much of a kiss. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I should have asked you if I could do that. I’ve just wanted to kiss you for literally months,” he exhales against your mouth, already aching to do it again. 

“Don't apologize, San, you can kiss me. I want you to kiss me,” you whisper, breathing in shakily as he closes the distance. 

His lips meet yours and it’s like everything inside him settles and riots at the same time. Soft, sweet affection wars with heady desire and as you deepen the kiss, the need grows. San is doing his best to contain himself, swallow the mortifying moans and gasps and whimpers that fight to escape from his mouth to yours, but it’s so difficult when this is the farthest he’s ever gone and it’s happening with you, of all people. 

He breaks away with a gasp, trying to catch his breath and calm himself down before he does anything to further embarrass himself, like cumming in his pants just from a little kissing. 

“You know how I said that I’ve never done this before?” 

You nod with a hum, trailing kisses down his cheek and along his jawline before pressing your soft lips to his pulse and sucking gently. He hiccups in a breath, cringing slightly because he knows you can feel how fast his heart is beating, feel how nervous and exhilarated you make him. 

“I meant like… I’ve never done any of this. Ever. You were kind of… my first kiss,” San whispers, embarrassment stealing his voice as your mouth freezes on his neck. 

You draw back to stare at him, your eyes calculating and your brows furrowed.

“How is that even possible? You’re so sweet and smart and hot and your shoulders are so broad.”

San’s ears warm as he stumbles through his answer, “I just never had time. I had to work really hard in high school to get my scholarship and now I have to work to keep it. Plus, it didn’t seem all that important. I figured it would just happen when it happened.”

“That makes sense, you are busy most of the time,” you agree, cupping his face and tracing your thumb over his cheekbone. The contact sends tingles down his spine, his cheek instantly dropping into your palm before a question pops into his head. 

“Wait, what do my shoulders have to do with this?” 

“San, come on, your shoulder to waist ratio is insane, you’re like a sexy Dorito,” you respond as if it should be obvious. 

“And you’re into that?” He asks, his confusion evident. 

“Yes, have you ever seen yourself from the back? And when you have your jersey on and you’re all sweaty and out of breath…” 

Your eyes roll back as you moan dramatically, obviously more in jest than seriousness, but it makes San’s dick twitch in his suddenly tight jeans all the same. It was almost too much just hearing that you love him too, and he’s not sure how to function now that he knows you think about him like this. 

He realizes you’re pressed up against him more than he thought you were, the heat of your body radiating into his even through your clothes, which must mean you can feel the length pushing at his zipper. 

Judging by your smirk, you definitely can, but before he can even think to feel ashamed, you push your hips into his and sink your free hand into his hair. 

“We’ll take this at your pace. You just have to tell me how slow or fast you wanna go,” you assure him, your eyes honest, your tone serious. 

San doesn’t take long to think through his response, knowing he’s been ready for this since he met you. 

“Fuck slow, let’s go fast. I want as much of you as you’ll let me have,” he answers as he pushes you to lay flat on the bed with the hand on your waist. The other hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you up into a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping over your bottom lip with only a little insecurity. 

You gasp against his mouth, the sound and sensation dizzying yet intensely gratifying. He pulls away to send you a smirk of his own and continues, “You may have to help me, though, show me what to do, how to make you feel good. Is that okay?”

Beaming up at him with whole galaxies in your eyes, you tell him, “It’s more than okay. In fact, I think you’re about to become my favorite student.”

(You're already his favorite teacher)

AN: i wrote this to hurt my bestie's feelings, i hope it works @sluttywonwoo (even tho i know you'll wait to read until i post part two

hoping to put part two up tomorrow or friday!!

im working on part two i promise 😩

PART TWO

please please please reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! feedback is my lifeblood

Find my masterlist here

Join my taglist here

pics by @ parkhoonah

#san fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez san #san ateez #choi san #san x y/n #san x you #san x f!reader #san x fem reader #san x fem!reader #san x reader #choi san x reader #choi san x y/n #choi san fic #choi san ff #choi san x you #san fanfic #san scenarios #san imagines #san smut #✨emily writes✨ #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop smut

[fredwkong]

Ugh! One of the football coaches at uni just told me to personally tutor some of their players and they all have different majors! I have a life too, you know!

I'm so tired of being an angry little nerd all the time. I just want to take a break from uni and become a big, dumb jock for a while. No thoughts, brain empty, balls churning kind of guy.

I’m not sure if this is meant to be a vacation booking or a wish, but there’s a genie who’s raring to come and give you what you want, so that’s what you’re getting.

“I wish I was a dumb jock.”

The genie who appears before you looks like an alpha jock, wearing a cutoff tank top, basketball shorts, and a snapback cap. He grins at you and says, “Absolutely, bro. Love creating another dumb bro.”

He snaps his finger, and your button up shirt transforms into a white T-shirt printed with the words “FUCK ME BIG.” Your skinny nerd body is absolutely swimming in it. With a dumb guffaw, the genie vanishes.

Right on cue, the first football bro knocks on the door of your dorm room for your tutoring session. Without waiting for your response, he opens the door and walks in. “Hey bro, you gotta help me pass Chem—“ he trails off, his dumb brain catching up as he reads your shirt. A lustful look rushes over his face. “We can do that, too,” he growls, and rips off your cargo pants.

As he cums in your bony ass, you feel like all your knowledge of chemistry drains out into his dick, while at the same time you feel your whole body inflate a bit with muscle and fat. The bro puts his cock away in his pants. “Whoa, dude, I feel ready for that Chem midterm now, huhu,” he chuckles.

As he leaves, the next football bro walks in, complaining about his algebra quiz. Before you can protest, he reads your shirt.

By the end of the day, the whole football team has dropped a thick jock load in your new jiggly muscle butt. Every bit of knowledge you had has been drained out, and you sit on your bed, jiggling your fat pecs in your shirt and feeling the cum drool out of your asshole.

Another wish fulfilled.

Got a wish you need twisted? Send an ask! Remember to say “I wish” so the genie hears exactly what you’re wishing for.

#answered ask #wish granted #genie #male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #dumber tf #broification #bottom tf #male tf #all fwkong

[darklcy]

𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

‣ requsted by @ipromiseimnotthirsty : hello! if your requests are open, would you write robin x reader smut where reader has been teasing robin all day until she snaps? maybe they’ve been in public/with other people/in class all day and then they get home? thank you!!

‣ robin buckley x f! reader | stranger things mastelist | 1.5k words | 18+ MDNI, heavy petting, skin on skin, sexual tension, swearing, reader has boobas, college au, no use of y/n, fingering, make out sesh

‣ this is actually one of the first times i've ever written smut so i hope i did you justice adfafawe sorry this one took so long! enjoy my luvs

Something must’ve been in the air today, she thinks.

Surely that’s why her skin flared red, insides grinding like an engine, knee bouncing beneath her desk anxiously while trying to find a rhythm with the pencil in her grip. Professor Smith’s lecture faded quiet, the woman pointing to an assignment on the board that was to be finished come Monday morning. Robin slouched further into her chair.

…A shoe trails the inside of her calf. 

Her eyes close while her lips tighten. Nudging it away, she ignores the playful scoff behind her. 

Quit it.

The shoe lightly pokes her back, the tip of a canvas converse tapping into her corduroy pants. Smith and the chalkboard mesh together in a blur, a sweaty induced blur with Robin’s only focus being the damn girl behind her. The same damn girl who’s been riling up her nerves the whole class period.

The tip of a finger twirls around a strand of Robin’s bob, a phantom sensation of pulling on her scalp before the tension releases. Something’s gotta be in the air today.

—

The lunch line was annoyingly long today. Her weight shifts from feet to feet as her shoulder leans against the wall, awaiting her turn to enter the school cafe and order some overpriced food the campus provides. Not her usual choice, but waking up late damned her to forget packing a sack lunch. A student with a plastic tray walks by. Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Her nose twitches.

A sharp pinch to her side jolts her awake.

“Hey.”

Of course it’s you. Robin’s hand flies to her chest.

“My god, you scared me.”

“Good, I was trying to.”

Do you even know what you’re doing or is it just a state of oblivion?

“What’s for lunch today?”

“Uhh, steak and mashed potatoes.”

She watches you contemplate. 

“Hm. I’ll save you a spot.”

Your hand caresses her shoulder, but as you depart, trails down her arm before releasing at her wrist. Goosebumps stem up from her fingertips, unable to do anything else except watch you prance away to an empty table, joining a couple other classmates, and sure enough, placing your bag to the seat right next to yours.

You smile in greeting like it was just a regular day. It was almost mocking her. Her freckles could feel the heat underneath her pores. 

Someone taps her shoulder. “Can you move up.”

Shit.

— Last period of the day. Thank god.

She’d just about had it with you and your damn mannerisms. It’s never riled her up like this before, but surely there’s something in the air, with how much she wants to just-

“Wanna hangout today?”

You two hangout every day, yet you still ask. She hops in your passenger seat and leans her cheek against her palm, strategically moving her knees a bit away from you. Your hand still finds its way to her knee.

You commuted to class everyday, seeing how you only lived a couple blocks down the road. Robin doesn’t complain, her roommate wasn’t really her favorite person to hangout with anyways. Most days it was just awkward silence and greetings. 

“You won’t believe what happened in chem. Jason Carver messed up on the lab, and made a huge mess. His face was so fucking funny, he kept whining about how his sweater was ruined.”

You shake your head with laughter. Robin doesn’t react.

“Rob? You listening? I just said Jason Carver made an ass of himself and you’re like not responding.”

She raises her head when you squeeze her knee twice.

“Oh, yeah. No, that’s funny.”

You scoff. “I love your enthusiasm.”

Robin’s tongue rolls the inside of her mouth, her face returning to its rest against her palm. 

The familiar neighborhood streets fade in, your car slowing to a park, when Robin finally breaks. Her hands pull you into her immediately, her torso leaning over the gear shift to reach you better. She feels you smile against her, your hands gripping her hair and tugging gently. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy all fucking day.”

Robin groans into your mouth while taking a swoop of air, only to dive back into you again.

“I was trying to.”

She wants to ruin you. She wants to take you here and now. She wants you to shut the fuck up.

Your lips taste so sweet. The gasps and whines she drives out of you she immediately drinks in. She’s so lost in you that the roll of your bodies hitting the horn startle you both apart with a jolt.

“Shit!”

Robin swears as you burst out laughing. She glares down at you, but surrenders at your expression, your face squinting with giggles and smiles. She adores you. With a sigh, she bends down to steal another kiss. 

“Let’s go inside.”

You hum. “Good idea.”

—-

Robin starts immediately where you left off. The second you two enter your room, she grabs hold of you again, not wasting any time to place her mouth on yours. She feels you hold onto her waist, gently rubbing your fingers against her sides. Robin bites your lip when you pinch her.

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

The back of your knees buckle against your bed, allowing Robin to fully settle herself on top. 

“Nope,” 

She hates how you pop the ‘p.’

This way is much better, she finds. No damn gear shift or car horn to drive you apart now. This way she can feel you entirely, your warmth, your breath, your soft skin. Her knee glides up to rest between your legs, smiling when you stutter, your fingers desperately grabbing onto her. Robin rubs herself up and down, her weight and position making you two hungry for more, kisses growing deeper and deeper. Who needs to breathe air when she could just live here, in your body, in your affection?

She feels her shirt rise with her movements, to which she momentarily pauses to sit up and rid herself of the damn thing. You take this chance to follow her, exposing more of yourself to her and quickly meeting her lips again. Your fingers trail up and down her shoulder blades, her spine, her nape. Your nails become your new eyes, wanting to memorize every single freckle and pore of Robin’s skin down to the minute detail. Robin was so beautiful. Her freckles were probably your favorite thing about her. If you could, you’d kiss every single one. You started with her collarbones, then her shoulders, your teeth gently biting her in between.

Robin’s arms encased around your shoulders, starting to mess with the back of your wired bra before snapping it off. She moved lower to embrace your breasts with her tongue, each lick and kiss quickening your breaths. With a pop, Robin moves to the other, her tongue swirling around the bud before wrapping her mouth around it entirely. 

“You know..”

Robin peers up at you through her eyelashes, her lips still working on your left breast.

“If I’d known messing with you would get you like this… I would’ve done it a lot sooner.”

You gasp when her teeth bites your nipple.

“Shut up.”

Robin’s tongue licks into your mouth greedily, shutting you up in the best way. You find the latch hooking her bra together and eagerly rip it off, your fingers grabbing at her while her mouth occupies itself with yours. Robin leans on her right elbow while her left hand redirects yours to the hem of her jeans, letting out a hum when they dip inside and find where she needs you most. 

She’s so warm and slick with heat, you find no trouble slipping in a finger inside, curling rhythmically and slowly. Robin moans against you, breaking apart from you to your neck, letting herself rest there while you get her ready. It’s not long before you slip in another finger, even allowing her to grind down against you to rid some of the ache. 

She practically whines when your fingers leave her.

“Take this thing off.”

She obeys instantly. Her jeans fall heavy to the floor and you’re back at it, her heat missing the two seconds you weren’t inside her.

Her moans and whines could sustain you forever. It feels so good to make her feel good, you could probably reach your limit right here and now just drunk off her pleasure. Three fingers in now, pumping in and out, in and out. She’s close, you can feel it. It’s almost amusing how her cool exterior dumbs down to whimpers the moment someone touches her. 

“I’m getting, I’m,”

You leave a lingering kiss on her cheek, while Robin’s eyes clenched shut, her walls closing down on your fingers as she lets go. Her moans are euphoric and beautiful, and being this close you can feel them all around you, surrounding your five senses, and you find yourself starting to moan with her, too.

Her body collapses onto you, her sweaty cheek meeting the crook of your neck while your slick covered fingers come up to your lips to be licked clean. Robin can hear you hum at the sensation, annoyingly popping your fingers like a cartoon character after finishing a gourmet meal.

“You taste so sweet, Rob.”

You can’t hold back your grin as she groans into your skin.

“God, shut up.”

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley smut #robin buckley x reader smut #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #x reader #smut #x reader smut #stranger things x reader smut #request #robin buckley x you smut #robin buckley x y/n

[danses-with-dogmeat]

J is for -- John Hancock

Well, here's a classic for y'all. I know Hancock is always in these things, but really, if he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't be here. He's a charismatic ghoul, what can I say? I fell for him the same as so many others probably including you 👀 So I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy he's here ��

But no matter how you feel about the esteemed mayor of Goodneighbor, I hope you all like this one! 😁

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

--

Pair: John Hancock x M!Sole

Dialogue: “What are we doing?”

Word: Joining.

Rating: NSFW

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

“Jesus, Hancock…” Sole breathed into him, feeling like a boy just turned 18.

The way they were fumbling over each other in the VIP room of the Third Rail, like horndog teenagers under the bleachers at a football game, it had his blood pumping and his heart fluttering just the same way.

“Fuck, keep sayin’ my name, Sunshine…” The ghoul growled, in that smokey, gruff voice that had chills shooting up Sole's spine. 

“Yes, John. I will, just, ah—” Sole gasped at the way John’s teeth scraped over the side of his throat, the sting of pain only adding to the bubbling pleasure coming from deep within his gut. Every muscle in his body tensed at the feel of Hancock rubbing up against him, those wiry hands grasping at his tight-as-sin (as Hancock put it) vault suit like the fabric was his last tether to reality. 

Hell, after all they done tonight? Maybe it was.

Hancock was no stranger to chems, to say the absolute least, but all the substances the pair had abused together tonight were of a more… liquid nature. Whitchapel Charlie had cut them off a while ago, as if that would stop the Mayor of Good–times from drinking his fill of sickly sweet cocktails. 

“Just don’t stop…” Sole finally managed the words just before his lips became occupied with something a bit more physical. 

John’s lips were as addictive as the chems that so often passed between them. The subtle roughness of them, the flavor, sweet and smokey, the way they moved so skillfully, like an artist's paint brush over the blank canvas that Sole felt like in comparison. 

“Kiddin’ me?” Hancock said between kisses, “Never dream of it, baby. Been thinkin’ of this too damn long. Been needing it.” 

The sound of his zipper being pulled down registered before the feeling of his chest becoming exposed to the stagnant bar air, but Sole hardly missed a beat as he helped the ghoul shove the vault suit from his shoulders and pull his arms free from the sleeves. 

Hancock’s midnight eyes flashed to the new territory Sole’s actions exposed, 'conquer' written plain and fierce in his expression as his lips dove to smother his partner’s chest with wet, open-mouthed kisses. 

Sole could only groan.

Only groan, and use his free hands to begin the process of undressing his partner in return. Hastily, he moved to undo the buttons of Hancock’s shirt, grateful that the ghoul’s iconic hat and coat were already removed in the warm fervor prior to this. 

Almost on instinct, it seemed, Hancock pulled away briefly to tug the shirt from his torso, and deftly returned his attentions to Sole’s chest, stilling the ex-vault-dweller where he sat with the way his lips moved over him. 

He was like an animal, his hands caressing every inch of the firmness of Sole’s chest, smoothing down to his abdomen while his lips followed soon after, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys all the way to his hip bones, where the suit had caught and refused to lower without Sole rising to aid the fabric downward. 

The ghoul didn’t even need to say it, not with words, anyway. His eyes practically shouted the question from their dark depths. 

‘May I?’

“Please, John…” Sole pleaded, and though his eyes likely said just as much, he figured voicing his desperation for the ghoul couldn’t hurt his case. 

Hancock quirked a brow. 

‘Please, what?’ the expression asked cheekily. 

“Please, just… touch me, put your mouth on me more, just… fuck me, John.” Sole could feel himself warming at the crude request, and in such a public place too… Even the thought of it made his ears burn, his stomach flip. 

Despite the nerves though, and despite that giddy, thrilling feeling rising in his chest, he could feel his body’s enthusiasm for the idea growing ever harder in the tightness of his briefs. 

Apparently it affected Hancock just as much, if the groan he released was anything to go by. 

“Baby, you’ll be screamin’ my name so loud, they’ll hear you clear across to Diamond City.” He promised with a growl. 

Sole felt his cock awaken fully at that, giving an excited jerk. 

The alcohol had given him the bravery to finally make his move with Hancock physically, but now, his mind couldn’t be more clear. 

Sole wanted him.

Carnally.

“Those squares won’t know what hit ‘em, when they hear you…” Hancock’s voice trailed off. His hands stilled on Sole’s hips, and he found himself bucking forward desperately into the ghoul’s touch, begging for more. 

“When, when I… Shit.” 

Sole’s eyes cracked open in time to see the way Hancock shook his head, the way his brows creased above his downcast eyes, lost in thought. 

“E-everything okay?” 

“Nah…” Hancock whispered, “Nah, it’s, fuck… Sunshine, what are we doing? What am I doing?” 

Hancock sat back on his heels in between Sole’s spread knees, his hands sliding down from his partner’s hips to the tops of his thighs. 

“W-what do you mean?” Sole sat up as he asked him. 

“Just… I been waiting ages to be with you like this. Been pining an’ shit, really falling for you, ya know?” 

Sole could only blink, his eyes wide as drink coasters. 

“Now to just… Jump into it, an’ after we been drinking an’ all. Jus’ doesn’t seem right to me, Sunshine. You mean more to me than that.” 

“I… I do?” Sole’s mind began to sober up quickly at the sound of those words, that pleasant buzz replaced with wonder and… anxiety? 

Anxiety that he doesn’t really mean this, and this is just the drink talking, or anxiety that he does and I’ve wasted so much damn time?

He hoped it was the latter. He’d feel like a fool, but at least it’d mean another fool was in love with him. A fool he was in love with in return… 

And isn't that the best kind?

Dammit, still not sober enough to think in proper sentences, or logical thoughts. 

“You ain’t been payin’ much attention, have ya Sunshine?” Hancock smiled genuinely, pulling Sole from his foggy head and back to this thrilling reality. It was a dangerous thing, too… as John looked awfully kissable just now. 

But Sole had to fight that urge. Just for this moment, at least.

“Guess I was too busy thinking that I was being too obvious…” 

Sole’s words were met with a quirked brow from their companion. He took that as a cue to continue on. 

“When I didn’t know how you felt, before now, I mean, I… I didn’t think I had much of a chance with you, honestly.” 

“Not a chance?” Hancock scoffed, “Sole, you’re… I mean, you’re like a prince charming, you know? You’re two good deeds shy of perfect. You got the face of one of those moving picture stars on the old posters, and you think you ain’t gotta chance with this ugly mug? You crazy?” 

“Ugly mug?” Sole’s head shook in disbelief, “You’ve gotta be the one who’s kidding. I could hardly breathe the first time I saw you.” 

“That’s cuz I stabbed the guy you were chattin' with.” 

“No.” Sole refused to budge on this, despite the humorous quip, “Look, Hancock-- John, you mean more than anything to me. No one’s ever made me feel like this, made a fool of me the way you have from the start, if... what you say about your feelings for me are true.” 

“It’s all true, Sunshine.” He whispered in that rough voice of his, and Sole felt goosebumps prickle up the still-bare skin of his torso. “I’m in deep, and this? What we were doin’ just now? Most thrilling moment of my fucking life, but… maybe we oughtta do this right, you know?” 

“Oh, c’mon, Mr. Mayor.” Sole leaned forward, till his nose brushed over the hollow space where John’s used to be. “What do we know about what’s right?” 

Hancock couldn’t resist his companion’s proximity, as he leaned forward to capture his grinning lips in a sweet kiss. 

Sole could tell he was still holding himself back, but even so, Hancock's kiss stole his breath away like the first time he laid eyes on him.

“Now, me?” The ghoul rasped as he pulled away, leaving Sole to lean forward, hungry for more. “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout what all’s right and proper. But you, baby, you do.”

The ghoul scooted forward at that, his hands sliding dangerously up Sole’s thighs to grasp at the ruffled fabric of his vault suit. 

“So… Why don’t you tell me what you think's right about all this, and we’ll just go from there?” 

#2k event #2k celebration #secret event #fallout #fallout companions #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fo4 #fallout hancock #fo4 hancock #john hancock #hancock

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday

the lovely and talented @fangbangerghoul reminded me it was WIP Wednesday and I have something to share! Thank you for the reminder and tag!

I am going to extend the tag/invitation to any of y'all who see this and think, "hey I got something to share!" No pressure, just a general invitation.

My excerpt is a rough snippet from the Fallout 4 universe with Dawn, my current sole survivor. I'm still working on the Dellarov fic too but the chapter I wrote was an extended, hella downer and I'm letting it sit before I continue on...So for now I'm writing action and danger in the Commonwealth!

“Should we keep looking?” the raspy voiced raider asked near the road.

Dawn laid on her left side, curled in the fetal position with another empty stimpak clutched tightly in her hand. Her armor and utility suit, or what was left of it after the initial flames went out, was soaked in blood. The sticky residue of the napalm spewed from the incinerator still smoldered on her suit and skin. Her mouth tasted of blood, bile, and the lingering tinge of stimpak and med-x. She prayed the bush she’d crashed behind was enough and the raiders were too hopped up on psycho to notice the blood trail that would lead them straight to her.

“No, bitch is probably dead by now.” The one in the hellfire power armor said, the creaking of the frame telling her they didn’t know how to maintain their rare treasure.

“What about the loot?” the raspy one asked, “looked like they had a bag weighed down with shit.”

“Shit is what it’ll be alright, after we torched them,” the sound of metal hitting flesh popped in the distance, “get back to your fucking post.”

“All right, all right,” the raspy one whined, “don’t have to be so fucking rough.”

“Keep talking and I’ll send you to meet that toasted bitch.” Heavy foot steps were moving away from her location.

Dawn tried to pull herself closer to the old listening post. It would be safer to wait inside the bunker than risk mongrels, mole rats, or ghouls finding her before the Minutemen. Her body was in full revolt, her vision blurring, ears ringing, and limbs barely cooperating. She gave up, pawing at her radio on her left shoulder and squeezing the button down with all her remaining strength, “Preston? This is General Faulkner.”

“General?” Emmett Mallory answered near immediately, “you sound rough.”

“I am,” she choked out and coughed, “chems are the only thing keeping me alert. I need…you need to…”

Emmett was yelling to Preston off in the distance from the ham radio set up at the farm house in the Hills. She heard him say it was time to go. Preston had already prepped a team, it would seem, waiting for her eventual call. Soon Emmett was back with her on the line, “can you flip on the tracker on the radio? We can locate you quickly that way.”

They’d delved back into vault 111 and pulled a dozen unused pipboys from storage crates near the back, assigning them to those Preston and Dawn deemed responsible enough to lead. Preston didn’t like wearing his but admitted it made work easier.

“I…think…” Dawn struggled to find the tiny gray switch, “Tell Preston…tell him he was right. Tell him I’m sorry for…”

She knocked the switch on, the force knocking the radio out of her hand. Her vision swirled, the static chaos in her ears drowning out Emmett’s voice. Lieutenant Harkins always told me my arrogance would be what did me in, she thought as chills started to set in, and her vision went dark, should have just died in the vault.

#fanfic #atonalginger writes #wip wednesday #the coemancer crew #oc Dawn #Fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic

[valaruakars]

Hi darling, i love you idea so much to celebrate our boy, so here are my numbers 2, 3, 6, 10, 15, 16, 54, 55, 57, 87, 112, 127 Please give me the most Dominant and jealous Viktor ever uwu

Most dominant and jealous Viktor ever, huh? That would be the Machine Herald, then. Picked a few of these lines that fit the best. Double the word count because last one, best one 💖

Also I hear you asking, "What the everloving fuck do you mean by too many teeth?" This, my friends. This.

Tags/Warnings: 18+, MH!Viktor x AFAB Fem!Reader, exhibitionism, public sex, jealousy, possessive behavior, groping, gloved fingering, orgasm denial, Reader has an augmented arm

You hate the Chem-Barons.

Viktor hates the Chem-Barons.

But the Machine Herald? He tolerates them. Meets with them and their lackeys, even. Has to, because the success rate of his augmentations is exponentially higher when Shimmer is involved. He needs the medical grade variety, not what’s bought off the streets where it’s cut with impurities and improperly handled. He needs it from the source, and negotiates accordingly.

It’s none of your business. Typically, you don’t go. But as his notoriety has grown—the metal man on Emberflit Alley that can take away your suffering—safety has become precarious. Just yours. You’re nobody special; just a token from another life, and you don’t have a laser claw. All you have is your wits, your loyalty and a newly fitted arm that doesn’t do anything exciting, but at least you’re alive.

Now he takes you everywhere.

Him and his too many teeth, you can feel his sneer behind the mask when people look at you in the street; when they shape their lips to whistle, but think better of it. Has something to do with a metal whirr behind you that you can hear but not see with your gaze fixed forward, head held high.

He’s different now, this man with your long lost lover’s voice, but the jealousy stayed and he remembers what it felt like to love you. It’s made him possessive.

And, well…

You kind of like it.

It’s kind of fun, even, to see what he’ll do when one of the cronies escorting you in gives you the wrong kind of attention. The kind where their eyes linger in all the wrong places, and their hand trails down your arm when they think Viktor isn’t looking. He is, always. The mask just makes it hard to tell.

Hard to kiss you, too. But in the short time you’re waiting at the long, empty table, sat in his lap without a chair of your own, he lifts it enough to shove his strange tongue into your mouth. As you whimper and try to keep pace, he watches your face, your reactions. You can tell by the yellow light that brightens the darkness behind your closed eyes.

He snaps it down, shuts you out abruptly when a door clicks open and people start to file in—some with old augmentations, some with Viktor’s new ones. You know his work on sight.

He’s not done with you, though.

Low, dark synth in your ear says, “I don’t like people touching what’s mine,” and delight twists into your gut like the shrapnel that nearly missed your liver.

Your permission is a whispered, “Please,” spoken with kiss bitten lips, slick and puffy. The kind of please that says use me; do whatever you want.

Only part way through the meeting does he strike—a vigilance for lecherous eyes that are not his own. You can feel it too, the weight of being watched by someone at the table. The one who licks their split, sickly lips when your eyes pass over them, surely.

The hand that had a vice tight grip on your waist eases, and slips beneath the hem of your shirt. He’s not subtle like he used to be, but who would stop a soulless, metal monolith from doing what he pleases where it concerns his little fucktoy? Who would raise a word against him for reaching up to cup the warm swell of your breast, or acknowledge the apathy with which he claims what’s his?

They’re cowards, the lot of them.

Except for maybe Renata, who is terrifying and paying you no mind.

There’s a violent shift in the atmosphere. Literally. Someone draws a knife and shouting breaks out across the table, but his modulated voice is all you hear.

“Only I get to touch you like this,” he murmurs, tugging down the edge of your bra inside your shirt. He thumbs over your nipple, rolls it harshly between the cold, finely ridged metal of his mechanized hand. Only he can hear your breathing stutter, or feel the way you go ridgid to choke down a whine.

Your composure holds, though—spine straight, eyes fixed out the windows. Indifferent.

Perhaps that’s why he drops his hand out, and slips the other up your skirt instead.

Your eyes flare with a sick, thrilled terror as you clutch the hem down over his hand. He wouldn’t like if anyone truly saw you—your bare, soaked cunt—when he wrenches your panties aside. That’s just for him.

Discreetly, you open your legs just enough for the press of his fingers. It’s his human hand this time, warm through the leather glove with which he hides it. Two grainy fingers slip through your pussy and roughly push inside until his palm sits flush.

It takes everything you have not to make a sound, stretched so suddenly, sweet and burning. Is it mercy or torture that he doesn’t move? Just fills you nice and full so that anyone who looks too closely will see who you belong to. One or two must’ve caught on; they pointedly look the other way.

Viktor catches your quick scan of the room; flexes his fingers to draw your attention back. Whispers in a way that has always, always wrecked you, “Would they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you?”

Never.

You shake your stupid, besotted head.

“Mm, no, I didn’t think so,” he all but laughs, wicked thing. Not as soulless as he or anyone else wants to believe.

Perhaps a little heartless, though, the way he plays absently with your clit. Sweeps and rolls with his wet leather thumb until you’re trembling and your lungs are burning—suffocating on all those little noises held back. He has you clenching around him so quickly, clawing uselessly at the metal plates of his shoulder. And the closer you get, the less you care for subtly or dignity or proper conduct of any sort. You only want release. You’ll hide your face against his armored neck, gasping quietly as you can to hide what is obviously happening, if it means you can have it.

There’s just one little problem.

Right on the cusp, and you’re suddenly empty. Instead, his hand comes to rest heavy on your bare thigh, glove glistening. Your slick is like fine, gossamer webbing between his fingers. Only then do you realize the gravity of the situation—that he’s not finished, and you aren’t going to, because he grips you hard and murmurs:

“Only I get to see you come.”

#viktor arcane #mh!viktor #viktor x reader #mdni #arcane x reader #reader insert #my writing #don't mind me just letting my freak flag fly #another one that could've been a whole entire oneshot tbh #this idea has been rattling around in my brain for ages #2022 birthday prompts

[sin-sidejob]

Love your writing! Could you do some headcanons for Nostalgia Max! Brett?

Nostalgia Max!Brett Hand x GN!Reader:

Warnings: canon typical violence/shenanigans, childhood trauma, family trauma, bad childhood, canon backstory + some additional opinions and insight

Content: a lil angsty ig? SFW and more general headcanons rather than anything super specific or

- okay so he’s always been lovable himbo, not a thought in his brain, but Nostalgia Max Brett? Thoughts be rolling.

- this is all with the context or at least pretense that Brett didn’t take over that town and trapped the gang in the 80’s — BUT I’m going to work the concept of him still having the powers and using them or being affected by them

- watching Brett getting taken over by whatever chemicals and chem trails were within the Nostalgia Max brew was frightening, deeply and concerning, setting that chill through your bones like an ice cube rattling in your spinal column.

- you were so relieved when Reagan got him to calm down and go back to normal, or - well, at least what you thought was normal. The lot of you head back to work afterwards, tired and ready for sleep in the modern age and tired of feeling like you got trapped as extras in a Stranger Things episode.

- except you don’t go home just yet, you’re fretting over Brett who insists he’s fine and feeling okay but his eyes are twinkling green, swirling neon hues of emerald and peridot unnerving you. You and Reagan take him down to her lab, letting her run tests as you pace back and forth and warily eye the still-displayed parts of Robotus that linger on the walls, trying to calm before you roll yourself into a panic attack.

- turns out he’s fine, no radiation threats or concerns to worry about, but he’s now got powers. So much for halting that Stranger Things feeling. Brett and Reagan don’t know how they’ll manifest, but it’s something time will demonstrate. For now he gets to go home and he doesn’t go to his, he goes back to yours, shushing your worries and holding you close.

- that glint in his eyes fades away from the forefront of your mind, other worries and occupational concerns taking place until you’re all on another ill fated fieldtrip and off doing something else for the company, and you get held up in the crossfire. There’s a series of guns pointed at you, sadly not the first nor last time this occurs, but disheartening nonetheless.

- Everyone’s trying to calm down the situation and make sure you get out unscathed and nobody realizes Brett’s panicking until he’s not anymore. He’s eerily calm and staring straight ahead with fists clenched, Reagan goes to grab his shoulder to talk about how to get you out but she’s met with those acid green eyes, like green apple candy, and a cold expression so neutral it’s unnatural on Brett’s usually grinning visage.

- it’s so fucked it’s just beyond

- he just waves a hand and this glow, that watery green that looks like seepage straight from a nuclear reactor cooling pond, just whips in a wet thwick that sends necks angled cruelly, snapped with as much ease as breaking a pencil, and guns clattering to the ground.

- Brett’s blinking blearily before shaking his head, hair that was once floating now resting back on his head in a disheveled style as he races towards you and envelops you in his arms, making sure you’re okay and unscathed.

- meanwhile Glenn’s using every single southernism cursing phrase he knows, confused to all fuck, Andre and Myc are just both entertained and mindfucked thinking they roofied again, Gigi’s popping an antacid and a sedative muttering about how she should’ve got to work for the Illuminati, and Reagan’s going around to inspect the crooked bodies and talking to herself as she makes notes aloud, wondering just how this power has manifested.

- Reagan does find it very fitting that the powers manifested in a time of great stress, the second you were put in danger. God is he an utter fucking himbo.

- it’s not a power Brett can fully control, it kinda sets him into a subconscious state where it’s not a part of his mind that’s fully aware, but it’s sparked by very strong emotions, threats, and feelings of danger around him or directed at him. He likes to joke he’s got a nostalgia-sense instead of a spidey-sense but you’re still reeling and wondering why he’s now just a bit more attractive. (it’s the messy hair you’d never seen it, plus he killed for you and that’s also something)

#inside job #my thots #inside job headcanon #inside job imagine #brett #Brett hand #inside job Brett #nostalgia max #nostalgia max!brett hand #inside job brett hand #Brett hand imagine #Brett hand headcanons #Brett Hand x reader #Brett Hand x gn!reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #my inside job #personal inside job

[slocumjoe]

How/how often do you think the companions bathe themselves?

Assuming they have access to frequent washing...

Cait; Hardly ever. She's not in the habit of it and doesn't notice when she's dirty. Lacks a noticeable body odor, however, so Piper doesn't push her too much...will take quick showers, rarely remembers to use soap. Maybe washes a few times in a handful of months.

Curie; As often as she can! Like, once or twice a day if possible. Loves long baths with candles and music. Buys nice smelling oils for it. Really wants a public pool in Sanctuary. Curie just loves water, man. She's like a duck. Loves splashing. Meticulous about her nails.

Danse; Would prefer to not waste time and water but unfortunately, he is a mechanic. He gets covered in grease, dirt, and sweat. And he fucking smells like it. Probably the worst B.O of them all after garage work. Danse has to shower twice a week naturally, and multiple times if he's been in the garage. Otherwise, Piper starts yelling. Takes, like, 5 minutes in the shower. His hair is a sight to behold when wet.

Deacon; Dislikes being naked, has a big fear of being caught off guard while naked. So, his showers are quick, bare-bones, and infrequent. Though, really likes rubber ducks. He prefers women's shampoo, just think it smells better than whatever "Glacier Pride" is. It just smells like soap, what's the point? Well, Deacon, whats the point of shampoo when you're bald?

Gage; Bad B.O, refuses to bathe. No. Suffer.

Hancock; Also reeks. Ghoul, for one. Smoker and chem user, for two. Goodneighbor local for three. Wearing old as balls clothing for four. He doesn't sweat, and lacks B.O, but he doesn't wash much. Maybe once a month, if that. Piper lures him into baths with a trail of mentat pills. Will just sit for a few minutes while eating the pills he collected, then gets out.

MacCready; You know he smells bad. He's always partially...damp. Has oily skin. Dust clings to MacCready like plaster. Doesn't help that he prefers dust baths. Piper fucking hates this. Has tried paying him to bathe normally. MacCready takes a shower maybe twice a month, just so she doesn't kill him in his sleep. Scrubs with a wiry sponge.

Nick; Poor sense of smell, so doesn't notice when his clothes are covered in a variety of body fluids. This upsets everyone. Even Danse has turned green at a Nick fresh from a Mutant Hive. Those trench coats, man. They really marinate the aromas. Does his laundry whenever he notices people not breathing in his presence.

Piper; Intolerant of these good, civilized people having the hygiene of raiders. Very sensitive to smell, hates her hair deflating with sweat, dirt, and oil, can't think if she's sweaty. Needs to shower often, multiple times a week. Gifts bathing products in hopes it will entice these dirtbags into hygiene. Horrified at Hancock, constantly. Scrubs her skin clean until its red.

Preston; Used to wash in the river, stopped when that became their water supply. That'd be kind of gross. Once Sanctuary is properly set up, takes baths with a good book and a drink to relax. Washes often, quickly. When he can't, uses cologne or perfume to hide from Piper. Uses moisturizer and facewash, prone to acne. Very particular about his shampoos, allergic to a lot of the pre-war ones.

X6-88; The only companion who prefers cold showers. He showers as needed, for as long as needed. Has a fondness for weird titled soaps that, realistically, cannot have a scent. "Glacier pride" is a favorite. It smells like soap. Helps Piper bully the others into washing; his senses are enhanced, after all. And Danse really does fucking reek.

#fo4 #fallout 4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #piper wright #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #hancock #okay look #piper grew in a nice settlement and then lived in dc #so its not unreasonable to me that she'd have some higher standards of living #i promise this is not related to yesterdays piper blood rage

[love-toxin]

a/n: so sorry i deleted your ask, anon, but i had your request written so here it is! ♡

ellie's sentence starter prompts

xxv - "Don't just say you love me, prove it."

xii - "I've been waiting for this all day."

xxxi - "You're mine."

(cws: fem reader, fingering, foreplay, semi-public, mild arguing + the slightest hints of angst but it's fluffy)

"Rob, I didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out."

It's pretty difficult to have a heart-to-heart when you're following your girlfriend around the store, and she's picking up and putting away VHS tapes like it's some kind of extreme sport. But this is how Robin likes to cope with stress--by keeping busy.

And unluckily for you, you've put a lot of stress on her shoulders with what happened this afternoon.

"Oh, it just slipped out? You just accidentally told someone you're dating Hawkins' favourite pretty boy?"

"I panicked! I'm sorry, okay?" In truth, it was really a slip of the tongue. You've practiced what you would say if anyone ever questioned you on your relationship, whether it be parents or teachers or strangers on the street--but you didn't actually think it would happen like it did today. One of the girls in your chem class, who you had been getting notes from, asked who it was you were dating completely out of the blue. Knowing people like her, she probably was curious about whether you were lying or not, since you and Robin tend to keep things on the down low for obvious reasons. Small towns aren't exactly the most welcoming places for a pair of weirdos also doubling as lesbians.

But instead of coming up with something on the spot, an elaborate half-truth to get out of outing yourself and your girlfriend to her and by extension all of Hawkins, you'd blurted out the first thing that came to mind. And oh, did Robin have quite the earful for you after a very silent ride in Steve's car to get all three of you to Family Video for their shift.

"No, it's fine. Totally fine." She mutters, and trails off as she finishes stacking a set of New Release tapes on the return rack. "I'll just tell Steve about his new girlfriend. Bet he'll be psyched."

The last one hits the top with a thwack that resonates through the entire store, you're sure even Steve could hear it around the front as he swept the leaves off the curb outside. And Robin turns to face you finally, her eyes big and glimmery with hurt but her brow set like she's trying to make it seem like she doesn't give a fuck. She's been testy lately for a variety of reasons, but it's always cute...until she's mad at you, of course. Then, it stings.

"You could've picked anyone, and you picked him. And if that ever happened, like, really happened, I would just....die."

You want to say something so badly, to comfort her, to take the hand of the woman you love and tell her all the reasons why you want to be with her forever. But for the second time, you can't get out what you really want to say--and instead of saying the wrong thing, the worst thing, this time you say nothing at all. Your mouth parts, hung half-open only to close back again when your voice refuses to come out, and her eyes dart down to your lips before she huffs and stalks away from you, hands outstretched to push through the door to the back and maybe, hopefully, get away from you for awhile.

Not so. If you can't say anything, you're gonna do something. Company policy be damned, your foot catches the door before it falls closed all the way, and you catch her by the wrist before she can get more than an arm's reach away. She's already not the most athletic, nor has the best constitution--so it's relatively easy to shove her around and pin her back to the door, her breath fleeing in a sudden gasp when you do so.

"I love you."

There's no way for it not to echo here, in the small space in the back of Family Video. But you can't bring yourself to care--you want it to seep into the walls, for someone's ears to catch your voice as you say it. For someone, anyone, to know that you love Robin Buckley with all your heart.

"Don't just say you love me. Prove it." It comes out in a whisper, her lips cinching tight after it does only for her eyes to drop to yours. Your brow quirks up, to her it must say "prove it?" and she nods, already void of the air she needs to stay standing. As evident by the way her knees buckle immediately when you press your lips to her shoulder, on that small window of space where her vest's left a precious slice of skin exposed.

"Wh-What are you doing?"

"Proving it." You mouth at the soft spot of her neck, hands descending down her sides with your fingers outstretched to catch the loose threads of her uniform, remind her that you've trimmed your nails recently. Very recently. Like this morning, when you anticipated a fun night and some sacred alone time with your girl.

The bite that comes after isn't meant to hurt, but you're sure it does a little bit since you know she's so sensitive there. It draws a whine from her throat and it takes everything within you not to chuckle, because she's so fucking cute it's unfair. Unfair that she can go around looking so dorky and clumsy and awkward and fuckable. Your hand slips under the belt of her pants, an "oops" making its way off your smirking mouth because there's no one on earth that would believe it's accidental. And Robin can do nothing but clasp at your wrist, blunt nails painlessly digging into your skin as she cups her other hand over her mouth and smothers her shaky, soft moans as you noiselessly slide her panties to the side and dip a finger inside her. Slowly, quietly because she's already a little damp from getting a hickey, you watch that doubt leak away as you push deeper inside her, listening for any of those trembling gasps of your name. They're always the sweetest when they're involuntary, when she just can't hold them back because it feels too damn good.

"Robin, why's the door locked?"

But she jumps at the clacking sound of the door handle being grabbed and turned, Steve's voice laced with concern on the other side as he calls out, completely unknowing.

"Beat it, Harrington!"

She pulses, clenches around you when you speak so aggressively, the hand that's been covering her face closing into a tight fist as she silently begs for him to go away.

"What are you-"

"Busy!" She cries back, frustration coming out in the edge of her voice as the back of her head hits the door. "G-Getting boxes! Just a minute!"

"I...okay, I guess."

Sweet, completely oblivious Steve, it won't dawn on him what's happening until much later, you're sure. Shame you're gonna have to leave Robin to deal with the fallout when it happens, but yet again you've had to cover in a haste and you didn't have much choice. You stir your lonely digit inside her, get a feel for how she's tensing and squeezing around you like she's trying to milk the feeling as much as she can--but before long those eyes that were screwed shut in pleasure have opened again, and she taps hurriedly on your arm as a sign for you to extract your hand from her at once. It's a gentle process and a slow one, you hook your pinky into her panties to slide them back and pull on the waist of her pants to pull your hand out without catching it on anything--and when you raise your hand to your mouth, the words flutter out as easily as if you had practiced them.

"I've been waiting for this all day."

With that, you let your tongue loll out of your mouth and press your wet finger into it, a shudder immediately running through your body when you taste it, and hers when she watches you suck her slick off your hand as if it's some kind of honey-sweet nectar. It really could be, she tastes so divine--and when it's gone, it's like the stockroom doesn't exist and you just want more.

"O-Okay.." Only when she manages to catch that fleeting breath is she able to speak coherently, although in barely a whisper out of fear of Steve overhearing. "Okay, you proved it. Jesus. You're crazy."

You love that she says it with a smile. A breathless, rosy-cheeked one, that you want so badly to kiss but she does it first--she practically dives in for it, her hands on her belt first to readjust it before they come up to cup your cheeks.

"I...I've got a whole shift to get through, and I'm just gonna be thinking about you." The flutter of her lashes as she looks at you, the myriad of other thoughts she swallows down to save herself from riling you up further, the love in her sigh as she basks in the glow of your touch...it's all just perfect.

"Good. It'll keep your eyes off any pretty girls. You're mine." You can afford to be cheeky, another kiss stolen off her lips that she melts into without any hesitation. And another, and another, and another still, until she's pulling away to put herself back into place and dust herself off of your influence.

"Phew....you gotta leave out the back, or Steve'll know-"

"-Know that I tried to finger his coworker in your stockroom?" She pushes on your arm, nose adorably crinkled as you giggle at your own dirty joke. But you sober up as the laughter dies down, and twirl a strand of her hair around your finger.

"I love you, baby. And I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean it."

"It's okay. I know you didn't, and I forgive you. And I love you. Too." She pecks you on the nose, her hands itching to get more of you but her good sense getting the better of her. Steve's probably already pacing around the counter, wondering what's taking you and her so long--maybe he thinks you're having a fight. How wrong he would be. "I can't wait to finish. I'll miss you."

"Oh, and I'll finish you when you get to my place. Smell ya later, Buckley." You flash her a wink and a grin, and with that you're stepping back and getting on your way towards the back door while she tries to shake that blush and the big, giddy smile off her face.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #spicy writing #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #ellie's sentence starters