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pahtoosh · 11 months

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apologies and kisses

[image ID: pictures on a light purple background. there are five different baby blankets, a few different bottles of laundry detergent, and an image of chris evans as steve rogers looking smug and another of sebastian stan looking comedically distraught/.end ID]

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~2200 words

warnings: having to do chores. baby is kind of dramatic in this(but justified!)

a/n: the movies moodboards are back. this is the first post of my summer celebration!!! also my first "and kisses" piece!!! "and kisses" just means there are lots of kisses and this is important because i love kisses :)

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader (Dada = Steve, Baba = Bucky, Daddies = both Steve and Bucky)

summary: Steve leaves you and Bucky alone for a day and your Baba manages to make a mistake worthy of an apology and lots of kisses

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

“Okay, I’m leaving for my meeting now!” Steve called out. “Just making this announcement in case one of my loves wants to show me some love before I go!”

Your dada would never leave without a proper goodbye unless it was an emergency, but he likes teasing you. You took the bait every time.

“Dada! Dada wait!” You rushed to the door and “caught” Steve just as he was about to open the door.

“Oh goodness! You just barely made it, pumpkin. I was practically out the door!” He set down his briefcase and gave you a hug and kiss. He looked over your shoulder for any sign of Bucky. “Hm. Only one of my loves came to say goodbye. I guess that’s it then. Bye sweetheart, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“No! No! Baba! Baba, come say bye bye to Dada, you have to!”

Bucky shook his head at your and Steve’s antics. He walked leisurely down the hallway before kissing Steve goodbye.

“You sure took your time,” Dada teased.

“I can’t be spoiling you now. Sometimes ya gotta play a lil’ hard to get.” Bucky winked.

Steve laughed and muttered idiot before returning the kiss. “You two gonna be okay without me?”

“Yes, Steve. I’ve got the schedule and the chore chart and the MyPlate chart that you printed out for me. Twice. Relax, I’ve got this. They’re my baby too, you know.”

Your dada sighed. “I know, and I trust you but it’s been a while since we’ve been separated.”

Bucky rubbed his shoulders. “We’re gonna be fine, it’s only for a few hours-”

“Six hours.”

“And those six hours will be fun and productive thanks to the schedule you lovingly created for us. We’ll be okay, you can just focus on your meeting. Unless that’s why you’re acting like a mother hen right now.” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Are you worrying about us so you don’t have to think about your meeting?”

Steve stood a little straighter and fixed his tie. “Steve Rogers doesn’t run away from his problems. But if he did, that’d be a pretty darn good reason.”

Bucky laughed. “Okay, Captain. Whatever you say, now go kick some ass.”

“Language.” He kissed you one more time. “Bye, sweetheart.” He kissed Bucky. “Be good.”

“Why am I being told to ‘be good’?”

“Because our sweet little angel is always good. You’re the trouble around here.” Steve smiled at you and walked out the door, closing it behind him before your baba could respond.

“Unbelievable. Did you hear that, lovie? Dada’s talking as if he wasn’t the biggest troublemaker his whole life.” He stopped looking at the door to face you. “How ‘bout those chores? Should we get started on them?”

“Don’t wannaaaa,” you whined.

“I know, me neither but we gotta show Dada how responsible I can be. Will you help me with that, baby?”

“Mmm. Okay. But then I don’t have to eat Dada’s veggie sprouts for dinner.”

Your baba threw his head back in laughter. “Trust me, angel. Baba wouldn’t make you eat that mess even if you were the naughtiest baby in the world.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Two hours later, you and Bucky had finished watering the plants, cleaning your playroom, and doing the dishes. The only two chores left on Steve’s list were to dust all the shelves and lamps in the house and do the laundry. Bucky hated dusting, so he was saving that task for last.

He stood a little straighter and used his sergeant voice to grab your attention. “Agent baby, I have a very important task for you.”

You copied his posture. “I’m listenin’, sargan’ baba!”

“I need you to round up all the blankies in the playroom and living room and escort them to the laundry room. And bring any loose socks you see on your way. Those tricky little guys have escaped us for the last time.”

“Yes, sargan’ baba!” You did as he said, gathering the lightweight blankets that collected on the back of the couch and in one of your playroom’s baskets. You carefully walked to the laundry room with your huge pile of blankets nearly blocking your whole face.

“I gots dem, Baba!”

“That’s very impressive, baby! And in record time too,” Bucky praised. He took the blankets from your hands and placed them into the machine. “One, two, three, four, five, si- wait, we’re missing one. Where’s your blankie, lovie?”

You looked up innocently. “Bankie’s not dirty.”

“Now I know that’s not true. I can’t remember the last time we washed blankie.”

“But, but what if bankie don’ like the water?” You pouted and formed a crease between your brows.

“Blankie will be fine, sweetheart. Blankets are meant to be washed! And don’t you want your blankie to be fresh and clean? Think about how you feel after a nice bath. Good, right?”

You looked down and played with the hem of your shirt. “Yah, feels good.”

“Okay, then can you get blankie for me? Or do you want sergeant baba to come with you?”

“No, I do it!” You straightened up and rushed to get your blankie, wanting to show Baba your independence.

You carefully handed blankie to Bucky.

“Thank you, doll. Now blankie’s gonna take a little trip with these other blankies and when they’re done they’re gonna be all clean! While I do this can you look for the feather duster in the closet? I’ll be back out in a minute.”

“Okay, Baba!”

Now alone with the washing machine, Bucky turned the knob to the correct settings and reached for the detergent. There were three different bottles on the shelf. Wait, which brand is used for blankets? How much are you supposed to use? And who needs three different kinds of laundry detergent?

Steve had been taking care of the laundry lately in exchange for Bucky cleaning the kitchen. Steve was also more particular about how fabrics felt after washing, explaining the need for different detergents. Bucky decided to put a little bit of each detergent in the machine and hope for the best. He pressed the start button and left to find you and the feather duster.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Not too long later, every bookshelf and lampshade in the house was dust-free, Bucky put the blankets in the dryer, and you both ate lunch. By the time the dishes were cleaned, the dryer played a happy tune signaling that the blankets were dry.

“Baba! Is blankie time!”

He gasped. “Blankie time? We gotta move fast! Hold on baby, Baba’s gonna get you there!” He lifted you off his lap and carried you to the laundry room, moving up and down while making airplane noises.

“Wooosh! Wooosh! Wow, baby, look at how fast you’re going!”

You squealed and held onto Bucky’s Henley for dear life. “I’m zoomin! I go so high so fast!”

“Aaaand we’ve made it to blankieland!” He put on a voice and pretended to talk into a radio. “Passengers, we have just landed in blankieland. Please stay still while we take out the blankies and give your Babas a kiss for the ride.”

You giggled and kissed Bucky on the cheek before wiggling out of his arms. “Mwah! Down please!”

He set you down and opened the dryer, putting all the blankets into a clean basket so he could take out the dryer lint while you got your blankie. He closed the door and then turned to you.

“So, how’s blankie? All clean and fresh?”

“B-Baba?” Your lip was trembling and your eyes were filling up with tears.

“Oh, baby what’s wrong?” He crouched down to your level.

“My blankie! You ruined blankie!” You dropped blankie and ran to your room crying.

Confused, Bucky picked up your blanket from the floor and a pant of guilt hit him. Blotches of the fabric were discolored. It made your blanket look like someone spilled Steve’s green juice on it. He inspected the other blankets and for some reason, only yours was affected.

Baba felt so bad for ruining something that meant so much to you. He wanted to go comfort you, but sometimes you needed time alone after a conflict.

While giving you some space, Bucky tried to fix his mistake. He thought about all the ways he could get the stains out. He tried a stain-removing pen, but there was no change. He got a small part wet and blotted it with a towel. Again, nothing happened. Surely putting it into the machine again wouldn’t fix things, that's how he got into this mess. And he was hesitant to try vinegar, the idea of your blanket being stained and smelly was too much. With no other solutions left to try, Bucky went to go check on you.

Luckily, you left your door wide open. You were so distracted that you just ran straight toward crying into your pillow and stuffies. Bucky could hear your cries all around the house. He was concerned about how long you’d been crying for. How much time did he spend in that laundry room?

“Baby? Baby, I’m so sorry. Baba’s so sorry he ruined your blankie.” Bucky carefully sat down on your bed and rubbed your back in a soothing gesture. “I’ll buy you a new blankie, yeah? I’ll buy you as many as you want, as big as you want, as colorful as you want.”

He couldn’t be too sure, but he might’ve heard you sob the word “no” three times.

“Angel, I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to have a clean blankie. When Dada gets back I’ll have him teach me how to clean blankie the correct way, okay? Maybe he can fix this.” Bucky actually wasn’t sure this was something that could be fixed, but he’d say anything to make you happy. “It was an honest mistake, angel. Can you forgive me?”

“I never forgive you, Baba! Never ever ever ever!” You smashed your face into a pillow and kept sobbing.

Bucky sighed and held his head in his hands. He was hoping for an ounce of Steve’s patience right now. He thought about taking you over to the tower himself. You could see Steve sooner. Maybe some of the other Avengers would still be there and they could help cheer you up. Or maybe he could bribe you with treats, he did just go grocery shopping yesterday...

Luckily, your Dada was just about to park the car. He opened the door expecting to see either you running up to him or you and Bucky sleeping on the couch, exhausted from all the chores. He was not expecting to hear you crying. Steve quickly took off his shoes and found the two of you.

“What’s going on?” It was an odd scene, you lying face down in the middle of the bed, sobbing while Bucky was perched on the edge about to pull his hair out.

You turned over and reached out to Dada, still whimpering. He picked you up and reached for a tissue to clean your face. “What’s got my little sweetheart so worked up, hmm?”

“B-Baba wuined bankie.” You hid your face in Steve’s neck, too tired to do anything else.

Dada looked over to Bucky with a raised brow.

“I was doing the laundry and I messed up blankie.”

“Show me.”

Bucky left to get blankie while Steve sat on your bed with you in his lap. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You whined and nuzzled deeper into Steve’s shoulder.

He sighed and rubbed your back, beginning to talk anyway. “I know how much blankie means to you, baby. I’m sorry Baba ruined it. Did Baba say sorry to you?”

You sniffled. “Ya.”

“And did you forgive him?”

You didn’t answer.

“Babyyy,” he said in a warning tone. Steve did not appreciate unanswered questions.

“No. I say I never forgive him.”

He sucked in a breath. “That’s harsh, now why would you say that?”

“Because blankie!”

“I know, I know. But don’t you think Baba is a little more important than blankie? I bet Baba’s real sorry even without your crying.”

Bucky came into your room with blankie. Steve reached for it and inspected the damage.

“You poured the detergent straight onto it instead of using the slot, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?”

Steve grimaced. “I made that mistake too. With my own blanket, thankfully. This kind of fabric just soaks it up. And why are the splotches different colors? Which detergent did you use?”

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. “All of them?” Steve’s eyes widened. “I didn’t use a lot! Just a little of each. Why do we need three different kinds anyway?”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay, Buck. I’ll show you the ropes next time.” He turned to you. “See, baby? It was an accident. Baba was trying so hard to clean blankie that he used three whole different soaps!”

You giggled softly and snuck a peek at your daddies. Steve looked hopeful while Bucky still looked sad and a little embarrassed. You didn’t like seeing Baba so down. You reached out to him.

He looked surprised. “You want me to hold you?” When you nodded, he reached out to pick you up. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “Again, I’m so sorry baby. Baba didn’t know.”

You held his face with both hands. “Is okay Baba. Sorry for being a meanie.”

He laughed. “You’re no meanie, angel.” He kissed you and then cuddled you, mouthing thank you to Steve over your shoulder.

The next day, your daddies took you on a trip to buy a new blankie and Steve spent an hour showing Bucky how to do the laundry. He even took notes and laminated them to keep in the laundry room.

#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #fluff #sfw regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #marvel agere #kisses #and kisses series #apologies and kisses #apologies-and-kisses #toosh writes

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kaizenkhaos · 4 months

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Over the Airwaves: A Harringrove Xmas Fic

Okay so you know how it goes. You see a post reblogged from a fellow Harringrover (if that's the term...hmmm...I'm not sure but hey ho XD) and all of a sudden the mind gremlins go yes....do it. Write a nearly 4K fic inspired by it. Or kinda. It's more adjacent to it. In this case, I saw a post reblogged by @avalonlights about Michael Buble and that sent me down a rabbit hole of Robin and Steve hosting a radio show and a certain someone or someones ringing in with requests. Though it does give me ideas for another fic for later or maybe next year now XD So Merry Christmas everyone! ^^ Wherever you are and whatever you're doing, have fun, stay safe and for those of you who struggle during this time of year, my thoughts are with you. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Four Days before Christmas Day...

"And that was 'So This is Christmas' by John Lennon. Coming up, we have the much beloved listeners' request section. But now, here's a few words from our sponsors." It was the run up to Christmas and Steve was working. Like every god darn Christmas he could remember since finishing at Hawkins High. Sure, the money wasn't bad and it stopped him from sitting alone in a big house, wishing that he could just chill in the pool and forget about the rest of the world, but….there was just somethin' about this time of year that set his teeth on edge. Maybe it was cos his parents had once again gone away from the holidays, leaving him with a Christmas tree laden with presents but no one to see him open them. Maybe it was the fridge full of food which they'd left for him which he'd stuff in the oven and try and not forget about. Or maybe it was the fact that each and every year, someone had actually asked him over to their place. And he lied about having somewhere already to go. Cos he didn't wanna be a burden, ruin a good time. If he was gonna be miserable, he'd be miserable alone. He was so tired of putting a brave face on things. But maybe what he really needed to do was bite the bullet and say yes. Being alone the past years had sucked.

Four days until the day of the most wonderful time of the year. According to many and that one song which they kept being asked to play most days. Christmas songs were the bread and butter of the airwaves for Radio Hawkins in December, most DJs chosing to play different varieties but some of the songs remained the same. The staple diet of a nation ready for the holidays and to eat and drink more in the name of good old Saint Nic. Steve and Robin had been given the afternoon slot, just before the prime time DJ, and so were kinda the warm up act before the main event. It meant that they could get away with playing some obscurities but overall, it was more the popular stuff, both classic and modern as well as the old curveball to keep them on their toes.

"Line one dingus, you're up to bat." It didn't matter that they were no longer the sailors hauling scoops at Scoops Ahoy, dingus had stuck. But it wasn't in the manner in which he'd been labelled at first. Now it was more affection than insult, just one of the many insider jokes and banter the pair now had.

Nodding, Steve looked over at the producers, giving the good old thumbs up and it was time for his sultry (and apparently sexy according to some listeners) tones to smooth over the airwaves.

"And we're back with more holidays hits right over the air waves at Radio Hawkins. And the section, as Robin said before the break, we all know and love. It's time to hand over to the listeners and the recommendations for your Christmas tunes." Looking at the board, he selected the button nearest to him and with a smile, started with, "Hello there dear listener, who do we have on line 1 today?"

"Hello. Can I request a song for all of the Hawkins Life guards out there? " "Sure thing, and what can we play you today?" Oh wasn't that a oh so familiar voice and a glance over at Robin told him that yep, she'd cottoned onto who it was too. They didn't even have to leave a name and they knew it. Steve wondered how red Robin was gonna get before the song would end, even before the voice continued and sealed the deal. "Could we have 'Santa baby' please Mr DJ." "That we can, thanks for your call." As the line went dead, Steve leaned over to the console to locate the song in question. Now he knew it was one which had been covered a hell of a lot; apparently one of the most covered Christmas songs ever. But no doubt the main DJ of the night would play some up-beat version and what was wrong with a bit of Eartha Kitt? "We're going with the original version?" Pulling her headset off, Robin was getting a raised eyebrow, as if this was something unexpected. She knew his leaning to the classics for these sorts of things but maybe she thought their audience would beg to differ. Although, that did make him think of…. "Yeah 'course. Why, should I have gone for the sexy Michael Buble version?" "No. Steve. Why do you…" Bingo. Deep, deep red is the result to his poking, as he made kissing noises at her and she looked like she'd have thrown a pillow at him if she had one at her disposal. Instead she just leaned over and nearly set him off his chair. An act that had the producers snorting and Steve grinning from ear to ear. Once he was straight and level back on his chair. Last year, Robin may have dragged him onto the stage for karaoke on their second work's night out together. It had been a small town bar, pretty cosy and most locals but they seemed to have known the radio station folk, so there was no hostile staring. Santa Baby had been the song Robin had chosen but not for the reasons he thought at first. Both a bit drunk, he'd just thought it was an updated upbeat version for them to stumble through. Then Robin had done a 180. No longer as shy as before but like a shot of confidence had come over here. Sassy, confident and damn…. If she'd not come out to him a couple of years previous and let her feeling about him known, that would have a time which he had gotten him paying attention. But as it was, he worked out real quickly what had caused the change, or rather who. Turned out a certain life guard had shown up, on their own work's do and yeah. Robin had already scoped her out and the song? It had been for her. It had turned out, as they'd found out later that night, the feelings had been mutual. Steve had slipped away to give them some privacy and the rest….well. They'd been dating for a year now, but every time that version of the song came on, Steve wouldn't let her live it down and Robin didn't let him get away with it.

"You're such a….." The song finished and a smirk is what Robin is faced with as she gives him that face and took over hosting duties. Whilst making it so very very clear that he was gonna pay for this later. Or one day. Who knew when, but she'd seek her revenge and he'd pay his due.

Three days until Christmas Day…

He was surprised they were both not hung over. A night out with Heather and her swim team, and member of his old swim team and many, many drinks later had left both him and Robin going home late and just about getting ready enough to be able to be coherent on the air. It had taken Steve an embarrassingly amount of time to work out their set lists and he swore at times he was getting the shakes for some reason but they were working through it. Him and Robin, the dynamic duo. They'd made the bad days work at Scoops and here, as tight as ever, they'd carry each other through it. Just as they had each other on the way home. "So, we have another caller on line two. What's your name and what can we play for you this afternoon?" They'd admittedly had some banging tunes already this slot. Some golden oldies; some Slade, some Wizard. Some modern ones and some not so Christmassy tunes too. Probably from someone who either didn't like Christmas all that much or just wanted to give others a breather for a moment. After playing a bit of T-Rex and Prince, the songs had morphed back into the season and Steve was now ready to hear what the last request of the session was gonna be. A pause on a line. This happened from time to time. When there was a bad line, a disconnect or when people just didn't know what to say, or how to start. It happened more often than he'd thought when he'd started here three years ago. Nerves on the airwaves, the thought of so many ears hearing your every word. Steve got it. He'd been the same when he'd started. Now it felt as natural as breathing. Steve patiently waited for the caller to say a word or hang up. "Santa's little helpers." Giggling floated over the line and yet another familiar sound reached Steve's ears. A sigh away from the microphone as he rolled his eyes at Robin to just get a grin back. Eyes carrrying as much mischief as the kids on the line. Well, it had only been a matter of time before one of the little shits got through. He was kinda surprised at who it was though. "Hello there Santa's little helpers. Hope you're keeping warm up there in the North Pole. What can we play for you?" "What's the North Pole?"

"Can we have 'Driving Home for Christmas'. Please."

Yep it was them and Steve just smiled, Robin shaking her head but still with that mischief in her eyes. Had she set them up to this? He had no idea if she actually had; he knew she wouldn't reveal her hand yet if she had. Or maybe it was the other who had spoken who'd decided to do it. Those two were thick as thieves after all. Either way, Steve leaned back to his microphone, the song now lined up to play.

"Sure thing. Here's 'Driving Home for Christmas' for Santa's Little Helpers. Thanks for calling."

Two days….. It had been a mistake. Two nights out in a row? He should have been able to handle it. Drink never used to be a problem. But today both him and Robin were definitely paying for it. She called it the hangover from hell but worth it. He was just wondering when the hell he'd turned his headset up. Every sound felt like it was echoing inside of his head. The only saving grace was that some of the staff on the other side of the glass had also been out, what with it being the works do, so they were all collectively on the bus together. Just trying to get through another shift before their beds came a-calling. "Line number three, thanks for calling. What's your name and what can we play for you this afternoon?" This time the voice was clearly using some sort of changer. Subtle but there seemed to be a distortion on the line which felt neither like the phone line or signal and clearly wasn't caused by a human voice. Catching Steve's glance, he hovered his finger over to the line button, just in case it turned out to be some prank caller who they'd have to boot off the air pretty quickly. Wouldn't be the first one, sadly probably wouldn't be the last. "Hi, name's "Christmas Princess" and I'd like "Last Christmas" by Wham please. Love your show, thanks for taking my call." "No problem at all Christmas Princess." He knew Robin was looking over now and he knew how; he didn't have to see it. If it wasn't written all over his face in clear sight, then it was that she knew him and his history well enough that she could feel what he was going through. This song….stung. A lot, and he knew it wasn't aimed at him or anything, but it was…such a shitty Christmas song in his opinion. Full of heartache and sorrow and memories of Christmas past. Memories of her and the special someone he wished he could have given his heart to. And the word Princess….god it remembered him so much of that asshole. Not even in town no more, could be a thousands miles. To Steve, he never was away. He was always there in his head, in his heart and he felt the whole thing stumble.That tell tale of a rip occuring again, and the feel of a soft hand under the table. Steve blinked out of his thoughts and daydreaming, looking over at Robin and the producers who were pointing at the blinking "Live" sign. Smiling at everyone, Steve hoped nothing he'd been thinking had shown on his face. One look at Robin, and he saw that it had. Damn. Him and Robin had spent so much time talking about their crushes that he was so relieved when one of them got lucky. She wanted it for him too, even if she shared his opinion on his crush (being an asshole). She wanted Steve to be happy and he wanted to be finally too.

"And that was Last Christmas. Sorry to all of you trying to avoid Whamhalla. Better luck next time folks. Now who'd we have on line six."

Christmas Eve It was Christmas eve, one last shift until Christmas Day, which turns out this year, he actually wasn't gonna be spending alone after all. He'd not realised until this morning that there were several voice messages for him at home. All of which had come from the Hendersons. Mrs Henderson had happened to bump into his mom in the supermarket or some place, and she'd let on that not only would they be out of town but Steve would be staying behind. Something about work and a boring business meeting his dad had which they didn't wanna drag him along to. So of course, the first phone call had from Mrs Henderson, asking him if he'd like to come over for xmas. The second had been just a check in and polite check in. A "It's okay if you'd rather be alone but if you could let me and Dusty know, that would be appreciated." The final one had been Dustin telling him that if he didn't come around to his on Christmas Day, then his mom was gonna bring them around. Apparently his mom must have had a change of heart; Steve not finding out the why until much later on. Outwardly he'd been annoyed, rung back. Got Henderson on the phone and huffed a "Fine Henderson. Let your mom know we already have a turkey," before putting the phone down. But as Robin started to work out which lines they were gonna to be taking calls from first and he worked through the playlist they'd already arranged for the session, Steve realised that really, now the day was actually nearly here, he was relieved. So god damn relieved that it wouldn't be another meaningless Christmas. He even felt a little bad about his tone on the phone. He should have sounded grateful, not like he was doing them a favour. Something to apologise for when he saw them in person. No more time to dwell on that though as he was on main host duties today and so it was his turn to man the lines. Nodding to Robin, she hit a button and put the caller through. Steve wondering what the next Christmas 'masterpiece' in which they would be asked/forced to play would be. "Over to line four. Hi there, what's your name and what can we play you this Merry Christmas Eve?" "Yeah, hi. This is that guy with the Camaro. I want to request a song for someone special. It's that Mariah Carey song. You know, the popular one." No……no no no. It couldn't be. It had to be….someone else right? But no. He'd know that voice anywhere in the world. The inflexion in his words, his choices, his tone. Of all the god damn people to phone in and all of the times too. And of all of the god damn shitting songs he could pick. Why this one and why this. God Damn. Station. Maybe to be fair he didn't know. He'd been gone since Starcourt. Whisked away as soon as he was well enough. Had gone to catch some sun and never come back. At times Steve wished he would have stayed like Max had done. Maybe he'd have at least had the chance to say he was sorry. Maybe he could have made things right between them. "You there amigo?" The words echoed around in his head, before a little nudge from Robin brought him back around. Concentrate….he had to just treat this as another caller. Them as anyone else who wanted a song. It didn't matter how he felt about it; he had a job to do. "Yes, sorry that guy with the Camaro. All I want for Christmas is you right?" "That's the one."

The sound of a smirk in his voice made Steve want to throw up.Throw down his headset and go cry in the staff room.He'd not felt like this in so long and it was really darn hard for him to keep it together right now.But he had to. ON with the show and then he could let it all hang out when he got home. Away from the peering eyes, away from anyone's expectations of him. Then he'd be fine for when Mrs Henderson picked him up. None the wiser. "Sure man, we'll put that right on for you. Hope that special someone likes it." "Thanks man, I know they'll be listening."

Another gut punch and it was like the Byers House all over again. All he needed was a plate smashing over his head. A squeeze of his hand and Steve takes a deep breath before slipping the headset off again. Robin quickly joining him and gently putting his and hers down on the console. "Steve….." "It's okay Robin. He's probably come back to see Max for Christmas" And this special person of his. A tight lump was gripping his throat. He hated this. All of it. Most of the staff here knew about him and Robin and it didn't bother them. It hadn't stopped them from rising up the ranks, given them their own show. Some people in Hawkins would still be reviled if they knew about the pairs' sexualities but here they were safe. And he was pretty sure some of them knew about the golden haired Cali boy that he held such a torch for. Hell, one of them had even found his mixtape in the car once. Asked him about it and then reassured him that he was okay. That it was fine. He had a friend who was gay and he was going to their wedding. That had been several months back, the first person at work Steve had even told. It still didn't make this any easier. He'd gotten worse at hiding his emotions. The dam was breaking and he was struggling to stop the water now. Luckily though, the caller was gone before the song played out and Steve managed to say a hurried thanks before Robin skillfully took over the air for the last song. Gestured for him to go and take a breather. The producers nodded and let him go, didn't mind the fact he'd had to head off early. He'd wanted to say thank you to all their listeners, to wish them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year as they wouldn't be back on the air until after the first, but he just couldn't right now. And they all knew that. Smoking hadn't been on his mind for a while, but now he fished around the bag he brought out from his locker to find the packet, slightly crumpled in a side pocket. God he needed this. God he needed….apparently a lot of things. A hug, a smile, reassuring words. A good turkey dinner and a warm fire, and family and laughter and….. At first, he ignored the buzzing of his phone. Probably just a message or a spam call or somethin'. It rang off fast enough to be either so he just stood there. Leaned against the wall and took the longest drag that he had in a real long time. Before off went his phone again, pulling against his jeans. Maybe it was Mrs Henderson. Maybe there'd been a change of plan or she needed to make sure she had the right gravy. She did like to make a fuss and always made him feel so welcome. The thought of which is what made him pull his phone out eventually. It wasn't right to keep her waiting. He'd already missed her calls and not rang her back, something else he really needed to say sorry for. But it wasn't her name that had flashed up on his screen. It was Max. Okay, that….didn't make the most sense but maybe she just wanted to wish him a Merry Christmas or….shit no, something hadn't happened had it? He'd….he'd better pick up. "Max?" "No need to sound so worried pretty boy. She's fine. Snuck out with Lucas somewhere. Probably the arcade. Dead romantic like that." Holy….shit. He couldn't stop himself from sliding down the wall, only feeling over the back of his jacket once his ass had hurt the floor. Hargrove…what the shit. He really was back in Hawkins and apparently had Max's phone on him. "Also before you lecture me, yes she has my phone. Didn't think you'd pick up if it was a strange number or anything. So, you like the song choices?"

"Song choices?" Wait choices….. Steve's face must have done a whole range of different motions as emotions rode from pillar to post. He'd rang in before. Several times. But when and…. how many times? What had he requested, other than that damn song today. The voice changer….so he'd been the shit requesting freaking Last Christmas. Now another emotion straddled the rest of them. So, was this some kinda sick joke, a wind up, a play to get him on air? He couldn't think straight. He never could around Hargrove but wasn't this typical of him? Wasn't this the usual hair playing behaviour he should have expected? Wasn't this why he liked him? Shit…. This could not be happening.

"Ah come on man? Santa baby, Driving Home for Christmas….George Michael and freaking Mariah Carey. You know how much cred I've lost just requesting that song man." "Ah great. Yeah, it totally makes sense now. You putting others up to ring mine and Robin's show and make me feel like a complete ass" "Woah woah woah amigo. No no no." A snort and then that lower tone that always made him feel like he was about to split in half. "Did you even listen to what I said to you? Listen to the lyrics of any of those songs. And here was me thinking you were a fellow music lover Harrington." Listen to the lyrics? About wanting someone, coming home to them, the whole giving someone their heart and shit and…..but it was for a special someone. All I want for Christmas is…..oh. "Get the hint yet?" His eyes darted upwards as the shadows crept over him. A familiar smile now above him. Shining ocean eyes which he thought he'd never see again. And the sound of an engine in the background and playful chatter. Max and Lucas at the arcade his ass.

"Hi there pretty boy. Look whose come back for Christmas." ……….

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove xmas fic #kaizen's kreations #inspired by others' posts

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inky-quilled-dragon · 22 days

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Me: gets the ace attorney trilogy when it comes onto PS+

Me: wow edgeworth and phoenix sure do have an interesting dynamic!

Me, two seconds later: wait a minute.

Me, in case 4: WAIT A MINUTE

Me, in Justice for All: WAIT A DIDDLY DARNED MINUTE

Me, on the last case of Justice for All: holy crap this is. Wow. Like—wow. When does it stop being subtext?

Me, popping onto the TV Tropes ho-yay page out of curiosity: haha let’s see what the rest of the internet thinks

Me, two seconds later: Ah. We all saw it then?

Me, another two seconds later: wow and i haven’t even gotten to the best parts yet.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #wrightworth #miles edgeworth #tv tropes #i know i’m like #decades late to this #but holy shit is this game a treasure #not just because holy shit wrightworth is literally canon #but just. everything about it.#it’s brilliant #original content #i love this so much

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flaneur001 · 4 months

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Since it’s Christmas, I had this fic floating around in my mind for sometime. So here’s [Redacted]’s Christmas Miracle. A little Christmas present for my fellow 14 days with you enthusiasts ^^

It’s a little long, but it’s a wholesome story.

(This wonderful visual novel and characters belong to -@14dayswithyou )

[Redacted] x GN Reader

Word count- 1541 words

[Redacted]’s Christmas Miracle

It was Christmas Eve. The chilling air danced around [Redacted’s] form, biting and nipping at his exposed nose and ears. All his piercings felt cold on his face, numbing it in a way he liked.

He trudged towards the downtown bar, inconspicuously following a raucous group of friends from a safe distance. He didn’t have a hard time blending with the shadows, for he believed he had quite a forgettable appearance.

Sighing, he dumped a paper bag filled with contact lenses, hair extensions, and bar equipment into his black bag. He had lost count of the numerous personalities he had perfected and put on in the past few months.

[y/n]’s tastes kept changing as they went through phases, and he went along with their every preference, trying to fit into their fantasies and become someone that Angel noticed. [Redacted] would go to the ends of the earth for his Angel but the last personality was sure a pain to master.

It was during one of the multiple video chats with Moth earlier this month when [y/n] mentioned that they had recently developed a taste for cool and mysterious bartenders who were specifically, ‘brown-eyed, had slightly long dark hair, and performed cool tricks with cocktail-shakers’

Hence the brown lenses and the hair extensions. But [Redacted] winced when he remembered the endless nights spent trying to master the cocktail shaker tricks. All that effort and his Angel didn’t even notice him, save for a small polite ‘thank you’ that he knew they reserved for strangers.

He felt a little disheartened that this personality failed too. Nothing lately had been enough to grab [y/n]’s attention and he was itching to get closer to his Angel. To somehow be a part of their perfect little circle that he was always a spectator of.

He continued his slow pace, training his eyes on the only person that mattered in that group of friends. Or ‘fiends’ as [Redacted] liked to call them. Although he loved [y/n] unconditionally, sometimes he cannot help but question their taste in the people they chose to surround themselves with.

[Redacted] cursed fluently under his breath, “Why that handsy little piece of…” and balled his fists at his sides when he saw Teo playfully slap [y/n]’s bum, suddenly regretting not having brought his trusty sledgehammer together.

As they walked further down the street, it gradually became crowded with last-minute shoppers. For a short moment, [Redacted] ran into a big family walking towards the diner across the street. He lost sight of Angel and their friends, but due to his tall height towering over all the people, he lost no time as he spotted them in the gaggle of people.

A cold and wet sensation fluttered on his eyelids. One of the kids yelled, annoyingly tugging at his father’s coat, “Look! Look! Dad it’s snowinggggg” the kid said in a sing-song voice. [Redacted] looked up at the dark sky in wonder, “Oh, it’s snowing alright!” he murmured as if noticing his surroundings for the first time.

The atmosphere put a damper on [Redacted]’s already souring mood. He was not a holiday person, and these joyous festivities felt increasingly nauseating as he walked further down the street.

[Redacted] turned a corner, tailing Angel and their friends. A man dressed as Santa intercepted his silent vigil, grating on his nerves. Dangling a tiny candy-cane keychain, he spoke in that phony signature Santa voice, “Ho Ho Ho boy here, take this keychain for a dollar and make a wish…your little donation will help several homeless children.” the man demanded, eyeing him expectantly.

[Redacted]’s azure eyes volleyed between Angel and this darned man who seemed like he would not leave anytime soon.

Exasperated, he reached into his pocket and placed a dollar on the man’s outstretched palm—with more force than necessary—snatching the keychain from his grasp. He stuffed it deep into his jeans pocket and began moving towards the bar.

“Make a wish boy. Believe in the Christmas Miracle !” The phony Santa called after him. [Redacted] rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Miracle…as if”

The fact [Redacted] did not believe in miracles would be the understatement of the century. But he didn't know why...he foolishly wanted to believe in them...If only for today. Especially when his ocean eyes longingly traced the outline of Angel with their friends through the glass window from outside. They were sitting cozily inside a booth in the dimly lit bar.

He rubbed his hands together and pulled the hood of his hoodie on his head as he stood there in cold weather. The gentle snow covered his broad shoulders the longer he spent time outside. [Redacted] watched Angel’s antics with amusement, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

The clock was soon approaching midnight. Everyone geared up to welcome Christmas. Angel’s antics became wilder by the second as they slowly went from tipsy to a more drunken state. [Redacted]’s insides itched with anxiety. His protective tendencies flared watching [y/n] twirl around the expanse of the bar. Their friends only laughed at the sight, and Teo even had the gall to record them calling Angel a "terrible lightweight"

'Note to self-corrupt Teo's phone later', he mused with a cold smirk.[Redacted] heaved a frustrated sigh and resignedly decided to go inside and keep a closer watch. But just as he stepped inside the bar, a zooming figure crashed forcefully into his chest, knocking all air out of him.

With mild surprise, [Redacted] realized that it was [y/n] who had bumped into him. Tensed and a little shocked, [Redacted] steadied his little Angel with strong arms, and to his utter disbelief, [y/n] peered up at him, craning their neck at [Redacted]’s towering form.

[Redacted] was dumbstruck. His mind went blank as [y/n], his little adorable Angel, gave him a rare genuine smile. Although [Redacted] knew that his Angel was drunk, his heart still beat a mile a minute as he gawked at that beautiful little smile. His mind zeroed in on the fact that this smile was directed towards him. Not some personality that he had put on, but it was HIM, that they looked at like this.

He hung his head a little, feeling a bit self-conscious. But then his heart almost stopped, his breath hitched in his throat when Angel leaned in closer and traced the snake-bite piercings adorning his face, “These are pretty" they slurred in a cute voice.

“So, do you want to do it?” Angel asked, breaking [Redacted] out of his trance.

“D-Do w-what?” [Redacted] stammered his throat suddenly very dry.

“Oh we’ll have to do it…or else we’ll get bad luck.” [y/n] hiccupped, then yanked [Redacted] by the strings of his hoodie, winding them around their fingers as they pulled him in, mere inches apart from their face.

Reading the slightly alarmed expression on [Redacted]’s face, [y/n] chuckled as they whispered, teasing him a little, “I’m talking about the mistletoe silly..” they winked. And [Redacted] finally noticed the mistletoe hanging above their heads.

“WHOOP DRUNK [y/n] IS THE BEST [y/n] !!!!” Teo cheered in the background as Jae and Leon created a loud ruckus.

“YESS DARL SNOG HIM SENSELESS” Leon yelled too, sloshing around his beer on the table as he egged [y/n] on.

Gaining sudden confidence from all the cheering, Angel smirked smugly before they stood on their tippy toes and leaned in, kissing [Redacted] square on the mouth.

‘Am I dead? Is this what heaven feels like?’ [Redacted] wondered as [y/n]’s breath enveloped his senses. He could taste pineapples and coconuts on their breath.

‘So they had Piñacoladas’ he smiled.

But then his eyes widened when he felt [y/n] slip their tongue into his mouth. It was as if all coherence fled him when he closed his eyes. Giving in to indulgence, he gripped Angel by their waist, pulling them closer. A palm splayed at their back protectively, supporting them as another hand snaked around the nape of their neck, gaining traction as he angled them into a deeper kiss.

A minute passed and Angel broke the kiss in need of air, earning a low whine from [Redacted]. Their chest heaved in tandem. Angel's flushed face smiled at him before they whispered, “Wow…that was my first"

Angel pecked on [Redacted]’s lips one last time and retracted themselves from him. [Redacted]'s hands lingered on their shoulders a beat too long. He balked at the information dropped on him. ‘So it was their first kiss too? But they have always been so popular…’ he thought, marveling at his Angel with a starstruck expression.

The slow din of voices gradually came back, jolting [Redacted] out of this little moment. Angel's friends approached them and whisked them away as [Redacted] swiftly pulled his hood down, shielding his face.

“See you around..” Angel trailed off, waving their fingers at [Redacted], stepping outside into the chilly night air.

For the first time in forever, a big goofy smile broke onto [Redacted]’s face as he stood in the afterglow of that first kiss. It was beautiful and nothing like he had ever imagined. He pushed his hands deep inside his jeans pockets and began following the group when his fingers curled around the candy-cane keychain resting inside.

A mysterious smile bloomed across his face as he wondered, ‘Sometimes miracles do exist’. Trudging along the snowy road, watching his Angel from afar, the atmosphere didn't feel so gloomy anymore

#redacted headcanons #14 days with you #christmas miracle #yandere #yandere male #ren x reader #christmas story #short story #Ashe writes #redacted lives rent free on my mind

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department-of-landing-strategies · 14 days

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Incorrect Quotes Time but every quote is sourced from OSP (part 1)

~~~~~

(Percy and Audrey showing first years around as Head Boy and Head Girl)

Percy: Please note, we don't condone violence. Or at least not murder and usually not violence

Audrey: We condone sending a message

~~~~~

(Whatever thing/being the group summoned trying to pass as Oliver)

Possessed!Oliver: What ho, fellow humans! Are you enjoying having skin today?

~~~~~

(Conversations that happen when showing Marcus and Percy muggle stuff are usually weird, and that weirdness is only Percy's and Marcus's fault half the time)

Penelope: Short one?! That's a low blow, sir.

Audrey: The polite term is "manlet", my good man. I will also accept being adressesed as "short king"

Oliver: 's like the term is "twink", motherfucker!

Penelope: No, I'm going with "manlet", that was great.

Audrey: Oh, thank you.

~~~~~

(The amount of conversations the group have had a that involve tea past two sentences are in the double digits, which for a group that involves three divination students may or may not be surprising)

Percy: I have been in a cycle of: putting the kettle on, letting the water boil, walking away from it, coming back ten minutes later - "did I put the kettle on?" - putting the kettle on again, walking away, forgetting about it, coming back ten minutes later - "I don't think the kettle's been on" - putting the kettle on - and then just never making the tea, just constantly re-boiling the same water over and over again until it's all evaporated and I no longer have any water to drink.

Audrey: Are you sure you aren't secretly in hell? Because it sounds like you might be in hell.

~~~~~

Marcus: There is a certain, like, genre of wine mom who will take a sip of something and be like "oooh this is dangerous" - that's the same type of enegry as dads who will walk outside without a jacket and say "whoof! BRISK." And that is ME. I do that!

~~~~~

(Percy learning to fly while in Anamgi form and getting stuck)

Penny: The birb is stuck

Oliver: Oh no, the birb is-

Penny: Wait hold on. [Percy manages to break free] Oh darn it

~~~~~

(Audrey stopping a fight)

Audrey: Oh, it's a Slytherin and a Gryffindor duelling. Don't worry, you'll both lose.

~~~~~

(A drunk Marcus when asked about the topic of sleeves)

Marcus: I'm a sleeve hater with very high standards, alright? If, I'm going to be displaying these deadly wepons I wanna do it in a nice case, y'know

~~~~~

(Audrey has never had any fear and will never fear the Voldy unless she sees him use an unforgivable in person)

Audrey: Tell Voldy, we're coming for him. Dear a terrible dark lord, eat shit. Signed, the group you decided to piss off.

~~~~~

(Audrey watching Marcus try to reign in Draco during Chamber of Secrets)

Audrey: You are having a great time here.

Marcus: I am distinctly not

~~~~~

(Quidditch practice between Percy and Oliver at dawn)

Percy: I'm glad someones having fun here

Oliver: It's me

~~~~~

(Post group horcux hunt)

Penny: Let us never do that again

Percy: Yeah, FUCK that guy!

#i apologise if the sentances read wierd #i basically just copied the quotes almost entirely word for word from the captions #percy weasley #marcus flint #oliver wood #audrey weasley #penelope clearwater

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danses-with-dogmeat · 7 months

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Day 4 -- Rotface

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 4 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Prostitution with Rotface x F!Six

GOODNESS I've waited so long to post something with Rotface 😩 He was like Gob 2.0 for me when I played New Vegas for the first time, just like... INSTANT love for him, ugh ❤️

This one I thought was pretty darn sweet, and a little glimpse into his life on that street corner where Six meets him.

I hope you like it!

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Prostitution, drinking (alcohol lol), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dry humping, pining, hopes and dreams.

Words: 4.5k

Rotface lounged against his dusty curb like it was an elegant chaise, his body sinking lower and lower down throughout the long, hot day. The coolness of the air was refreshing as the sun bowed its head over the sand in the distance. Patrons, Freeside goers, and tourists alike had all hidden away in their homes or gone off to gamble and sin for the remainder of the night.

But the ghoul had waited in silence, one ruined finger brushing over the neck of some cheap bottle of liquor he’d managed to get his hands on. Some whiskey, or bourbon maybe. Perhaps even rum gone a little bit… off. He didn’t know or care much, his stomach and tongue were impartial, but his head… Oh, his head needed it if he was to make it through another interaction with his favorite patron to date.

And, like he'd called her over with nothing but the mere thought, over she came. It was unmistakable, the telltale click of her shoes on the pavement, the pacing of her steps, unhurried, but anything but relaxed. Even before Six rounded the corner, Rotface could catch her scent wafting on the light breeze: cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and gunpowder. Always a hint of it, no matter what she wished to mask it with.

It embarrassed him to even think it, but her scent was one he wished he could wrap himself in, like some strange desert creature burying itself in the sand for shelter from the elements, he wanted it to envelop him.

Need to get over this shit. Hopefully the drink’ll help.

“Hey, you. Fancy meeting ya ‘round these parts.” Six’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up at her, gazing wide-eyed, as if he was seeing her for the first time.

Damn, how it always feels that way.

Like a bullet to the chest from some Freeside thug, her visage hit him hard.

As per usual, Six was only partially clothed, in some bra-type, cropped shirt thing that only complimented the natural shapely curve of her body, her stomach was left bare, showcasing the smoothness of her skin, making it clear to him again why he’d spent so many hours daydreaming about laying his head upon her for a nap, her plush lap or stomach immeasurably preferable to the curb he usually called his pillow. Her skirt left even less to the imagination, especially from his angle looking up from the floor. Though, no matter what the angle was, the garment was made up of hardly any fabric at all, showcasing Six’s thighs and hips alike, both of which were frequent attendees in his daydreams as well.

Rotface almost openly sighed as he saw her. Though it was nearly a nightly ritual these days, she still managed to draw his street-sharp mind into a tight bundle of fanciful nonsense.

“Nice to see ya, Six.” Rotface managed to rasp out finally, pulling his gaze reluctantly from where it was tied to her form, her face, those eyes.

Suppose it doesn’t matter if I’m actually lookin’ or not. Always see her anyhow. Remember her face better than I do my own these days.

And that ain’t no bad thing.

“Whatcha got there? Something to share, I hope.”

“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it. Already had my fill, rest is for you, dolly.”

“O-ho, what a gentleman you are.” Her smile shot straight into him, like a searing beam of light, right through his chest as she reached down for the bottle in his hand. No flinching away, no mildly disgusted look, no light, hesitant fingers as she brushed her hand with his in the transfer of the bottle from his possession to hers.

“Wish I could take a seat beside you, but… Yeah, gotta stay visible.” She winked at him as she said it, but tipped the bottle back for a long swig a moment later, without even bothering to glance at the label.

Didn’t seem to matter to her either.

“It is still your corner though.” Six wiped delicately at her lipstick-framed mouth as she lowered the bottle down. “No matter who stands at it, they still know it as yours. So, if I’m ever intruding–”

“No way, doll.” He said, almost too quickly. “What’s yours is mine.”

Rotface gestured to the bottle then, a soft expression adorning his face as he looked up at her.

God, it must be obvious. Way I ogle her, night in and out. Maybe the drink wasn’t the best thought I’ve had… me a lil tipsy, her on her way… Could say something I regret.

And she could actually hear it now. Not like my daydreams.

“You know, this street corner ain’t the only thing we got in common, I think.”

Six raised a brow at him questioningly, but nodded a moment later with an odd sort of look upon her face. Another swig of the bottle, and then:

“Hm. You’re right. Must be… Our fashion sense?”

His laugh was much too raucous for the little quip she made, but dammit, the ghoul couldn’t help himself.

Here I am, trying for once to be genuine, and then…

Oh, but how could he ever be mad?

“Well, you do know how much I enjoy lounging on my curb here in the nude. Or in my leather panties. Heh.”

Six giggled herself this time, and he felt proud to have inspired such a lovely refrain.

“Nah, but, in all seriousness, I think… Well, we’re both one of the real people out here, you know? The ones out here trying to survive, yeah, but you’re not an asshole.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He could’ve slapped himself for ending that sentence prematurely… and with no obvious tracks for it to go down in the highway of his drink-addled mind.

Trying to speak from your heart is like engaging in an interview while under fire. Hearing the questions, formulating answers, wording them, all while remaining breathless and panicked. Scared for your life, even.

“No, no... sorry, buzz is gettin’ to me a bit. But you’re just– hell, maybe we don’t even have it in common, I don’t know, but you’re one hell of a person, is what I was getting at. In some fuck-all roundabout way." He rubbed the bridge of his would-be nose, grinding his teeth as his confession only seemed to worsen.

"Just... Six, you doing all that shit for the NCR, for Freeside, The Wrangler, and all those ungrateful, privileged asshats in the strip, and look at you, still out here working street corners for scraps. You should have a fucking penthouse by now, you know? Be one of them fancy ladies with the jewelry and the colorful skirts and dresses. ‘S what you deserve, Six, that’s all.”

“Glad you feel that way.” Finally relenting to the call of it, Six plopped down beside him, and Rotface felt his heart stutter as her hand brushed his bicep, giving him an affectionate little squeeze as she turned to him. “Nobody else seems to care, so you know… I suppose I’ll just keep... doing it, since I can’t sit by like the rest of those, ahem, asshats, as you put it so nicely.”

He broke into a laugh alongside her, feeding off the warmth of her smile and wishing like hell he could see it a thousand more times in his life.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I saw everything that’s going on around here and… didn’t help.”

Six handed him back the bottle, nearly empty as it was, but with one last, decent gulp left. With a slow hand, careful not to dislodge the one she still had placed upon his arm, he reached out for it.

“And… I guess I’ll just keep doing this,” Six gestured down to her scant outfit with unenthused fingers, “Until I can afford not to. However long that takes.”

A pessimistic scoff finished her sentence for her, and Rotface felt his hand gripping the neck of the alcohol bottle so hard it might shatter. And he wouldn’t blame it. If it were possible for him to do the same in this moment, he just might've.

Even as Rotface's grip loosened on the glass, his jaw stayed tightly clenched. He… had no idea she was that desperate. Some part of him assumed this was-- well, a job, yes-- but maybe she’d enjoyed it? Six always seemed so free, so good-humored, even in the worst of times, even when she showed up on their street corner with bags under her eyes, with bruises and scrapes he wouldn’t let himself imagine the origin of; she still was happy to see him, still made fun and light of their horrid, ruined world right alongside him… Maybe that’s what they really had in common.

Now that he knew though, now that her dejected voice, her listless mannerisms, the dullness in her eyes confirmed that she hated doing this shit more than he could’ve imagined, more than he hated baking in the sun waiting for a more successful, luckier man’s pocket change to fall into his roughened hands day-in and day-out for ten or so odd years, well... He couldn't just stand by anymore. Not like he has for so damn long. With all she's done in that time, even after being fucking shot? It made Rotface feel like a pretty awful person.

To think too, after all that, all his years of this shit, and how little he's collected in his time on the street corner...

Another shitty thing we have in common, I guess. If the world decides not to change, we’ll both be doing this forever.

“Well…” Rotface started a thought out loud, his fingers already twiddling nervously at his imagined proposal. “You know, I-I could start paying you.”

He felt her body tense, felt her eyes on him, but he couldn’t dare meet her gaze.

“J-just for this, you know.” He added quickly, “The pleasure of your company here on the corner. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t improve my evenings, having you here with me. But, since I’m taking up your time and all…”

“I could never accept money from you, R.”

He smiled at that, her tender voice, her sweet nickname for him.

“You want to know something?" She continued, her fingers twiddling distractedly over the skin of his arm. "I could stand on any street corner in Freeside. In fact, between you and me, this one really isn’t the best for business, but… Well, I enjoy the pleasure of your company too. And I couldn’t dream of asking you to pay for it.”

Another comforting squeeze radiated warmth from her grip over him, and Rotface finally gained the courage to set his eyes upon her face.

“No..." A soft, slight smile touched her vibrant lips as she looked right back at him, "We’re in this together, old friend.”

“If you say so." Rotface's own rough hand, pausing only briefly on its brave journey, now laid overtop hers, giving Six a comforting little embrace of his own. "But... If that’s the case, then… Say I did pay you for a night. A night we don't spend on this street corner, lovely as it is. A-and not anything, ah, promiscuous," He added quickly, "Just… you know. A night. Do dinner or something.”

“Dinner?” Her brow quirked up on her forehead and her eyes narrowed with mischief.

She must be onto me. No doubt she is…

But she keeps playing along. So, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?

“Well, we just shared a nice drink, some good conversation… You wanna just skip dinner?”

He was wide-eyed at what she suggested, what he thought she might be suggesting.

Could it be?

Nah... Too good to be true, that's what that is. Shit doesn't work out for me that way, not Rotface the poor street-corner ghoul. Not with Six. No way.

And yet, in that moment, her hand turned quickly, taking his in her grasp, and before he could fathom any single bit of it, she hauled him up and the pair set off quickly towards The Wrangler. He was comically giddy the whole way there, all teeth-baring grins and school-child giggles as she tugged him along behind her.

He didn't understand, but even more so, Rotface couldn't bare to question it.

Sure, the pair got some inquisitive looks on the way and in the bar, both of them well-known in this part of town, after all. The piss-poor ghoul beggar and the Wrangler prostitute who was a sucker for doing the right thing, the kind thing, getting a room together?

The looks all confirmed what he tried not to let himself believe.

Even if it is pity she has for me… who am I to complain? To judge her?

Nah, he couldn’t think one wrong thing about the gal beside him, in front of him now in the dim room, leaving even less to the imagination, as she let her skirt flit down to the carpeted motel room floor.

Six stepped out of the garment like she was trying to seduce him. As if she hadn’t already, from the moment he laid eyes on her.

“You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen." His rough voice sounded in the dim of the room as his eyes stayed locked to her mesmerizing form, "All my years, dolly, and it’s not even a competition.”

Rotface couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, not for anything, as she approached where he sat on the creaky, ages-old box spring. The bed dipped from her movements as she crawled up and between his legs, running her hands down over the smooth fabric of his worn shirt until they reached the bottom hem.

His own hands, rough as they were, gently stopped her movement.

“Not sure you wanna do that, doll. Might just ruin the moment.”

Six shook her head, her brows drawn together in sympathy as one soft hand brushed over the side of his face. Her touch was so tender, her expression so kind, yet… so wanting. It made his heart throb and race all at once.

“It won’t.” Her voice was the firmest he’d heard it. “R… I want this bad as you do. Honest.”

He blinked, and in the smallest split of seconds, Six's lips were against his. Like an old reel of film, his mind raced and churned behind the scenes, the chaos behind the beautiful picture up on the screen.

She was loud as a symphony, vibrant as a painting, with her passions. A pessimistic part of him whispered that it was practice, it was work, but a louder part shouted, ‘this is happening!’

Because that’s what mattered.

Six was here, with him. She said she wanted this, she followed it up with actions that had him in a frenzy, that had him questioning his sanity, and the life expectancy of ghouls once they go feral.

His mind scrambled like this, the heat coursing through him, the kiss felt like it was sending him into a metamorphosis.

Rotface wanted so badly to think, to respond, to ask a million questions and make a million remarks about his many faults to her. As much as he wanted this– more than anything he could remember pleading for in his life, and just… well, look at him, he had plenty he could've wished for in place of this, and yet, it was true. More than anything, he wanted this with her. And he was as afraid of it as he was enthused by it.

None of that mattered though. Nothing did, but Six.

Rotface ran his hands over her bare skin, hungry to feel every inch of her, to soothe every hint of pain, every cause of stress in her life, his lips pressed against hers, caressing her softness, like the sun hugs the mountaintops and bathes them in orange, pink and violet.

It only became more explosive, as he felt himself sink back into the mattress, as she laid her body over his, and he finally allowed her fingers to haul his raggedy t-shirt off over his head. Rotface gazed up at her as they separated, so she could remove the shirt from him fully, feeling like he was trapped in one of his daydreams, only… this was so much sweeter.

Even in the depths of his imagination, the ghoul never could have seen her like this. Looking at him this way. It was… utterly unimaginable, the affection he saw there. The attraction.

Perhaps her eyesight is just poor, after the incident in the graveyard at point blank range.

The sound of a zipper drew his eyes and thoughts downwards as she began to remove his battered jeans, pulling them off over his hips and taking his boxers with them in one movement.

Rotface grunted as the hem of his pants caught on his erection, already straining up in the air from her words, the sight of her, her attentions.

Just… Six.

The liquor had worn off by now, and he could feel himself shaking slightly. Maybe from nerves, or anticipation, though… probably both. If Six noticed though, she didn’t say a word about it.

“Hmm.” When his eyes snapped back up to her, watching her take in the sight of his gnarled flesh, his bony body, he expected any number of horrid, barely-held back reactions.

But she just… Smiled. With tears in her eyes, her gaze met his.

“I don’t know why you ghouls are so cruel to yourselves. You in particular.” She said as she began to crawl up his body, a hand on either side of him, hovering, until she could lay over him. Her breasts prodded his chest as she settled overtop of him, her stomach cushioning his sensitive erection lovingly between their bodies. “You’re no different than any other man.”

“Gee, thanks.” He said with a breathless attempt at a laugh.

“No,” Six giggled, letting her head hang for a moment, her hair curtaining her face so charmingly as her eyes crinkled. “I just mean… You’ve got scars, sure, but… we all do.”

One hand grasped with his, and Six pressed his fingers to the concealed divots in her forehead. He swallowed hard, as he felt the depth of them.

How lucky I am to be here… With her.

“It doesn’t make you worth any less. No matter what anyone says.” Six pulled his hand to her mouth then, one finger drawing a line over a particularly rigid scar on his wrist before her lips followed suit softly.

“Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

Rotface had to blink to keep the unwelcome mist at bay from seeping into his eyes.

What did I do to deserve her? This?

Just last night we were still only friends, something like this was a distant, unachievable dream.

Now, he never wanted it to end.

“Well, doll, you are the authority on all that’s beautiful.”

“Sweet ghoul.” Six's fingers ran over his bald head in an affectionate caress, and then his lips were back on her. Rotface initiated this time, pushing into her and wrapping his arms tightly around her body until he could flip them on the bed, positioning himself on top.

His cock twitched as her hips bucked up into him, the swell of her pelvic bone grinding against the underside of his cockhead until he felt himself drooling pre-cum out onto her skin.

Damn, but she knows what she’s doing.

“Fuck, alright–” Rotface pulled back from her lips, separating their bodies enough to alleviate the pressure on his erection. “I’ve gotta taste you, doll. That alright?”

Enthusiastically, and with a bit of surprise written on her face, Six nodded, and he felt that giddiness encapsulate him again. The older ghoul felt like a boy on pre-war Christmas, pulling her legs undone like a bow until her thighs were draped over his rough shoulders. His sense of smell and taste both weren’t what they used to be, but even so, his mouth watered at the sight of her folds; dark and glistening, maybe just with his pre-cum where he'd rubbed on her briefly, but he’d like to think some of it was her own excitement as well.

As Rotface took his first languid lick, right through the middle of her lower lips and up to drag over her clit, it was confirmed. She wasn’t just glistening a bit, Six was wet.

For me? Damn, maybe she really is telling the truth about her feelings…

Grinning, and with a hint of an uncharacteristically smug expression upon his ruined face, Rotface set to work on her.

One hand laid over Six's lower stomach, and his thumb pressed to that sensitive button that made her shudder in slow, teasing circles as he delighted in the sweetness within her folds. He may have been shy about confessing his wants to her, his own feelings, but his tongue showed no such coyness as it explored her so thoroughly.

Once that first taste hit his welcoming tastebuds, Rotface began lapping at her feverishly, like a starving wasteland dog, until he could hear her breathy moans escaping audibly from above. Chancing a glance, the ghoul hauled his eyes open to take in her expression, and felt himself give an involuntary buck of his hips against the rough-hewn sheet upon the mattress below him at the sight that welcomed him.

I made her look like that.

He marveled silently, feasting with his eyes as much as he was with his wanton mouth as he poured his attentions out onto her. Six's brows were drawn together from his efforts, her lips half-parted, her lipstick smeared messily against one cheek, her hair like a woven crown, all in tangles around her head. No detail of hers failed to captivate him, even as Rotface continued his hungry mouthing, his thumb’s circling over her clit, growing firmer and faster, just as his hips moved more frantically over the mattress, grinding his cock into the sheets like he was already inside her.

Six’s eyelashes fluttered, as she took in his humble visage in turn, and his heart soared to see the way she smiled.

“Didn’t know you had this in you, R.” She spoke, breathless, her voice damn near rough as his own.

He only growled in response, tearing his eyes from her face to look down upon his labors. Her clit was standing tall against his movement over it, and her lips were becoming darker, more swollen, more slippery. His tongue glided easily around her folds, navigating them as masterfully as he did the streets of Freeside, and pressed periodically up to that sensitive button, giving it teasing licks and kisses that left her writhing beneath the pressure of his arms.

“Think I’m wet enough for you now, R.”

Rotface felt a pat upon his head as her voice reached down to where he was buried between her legs, but he didn’t budge. A groan acted as his rebuttal as his attentions hastened. His actions were better than explanatory words anyway.

“Fuck, okay.” Six giggled out, and her sheer arousal was plain in the way the words left her. A moan trailed shortly after, as Rotface set his rough lips against her clit, and sucked like honey would pour from the spot. And well, it really sort of would, wouldn’t it?

Though, there was one difference.

Six was much sweeter.

The ghoul’s eyes rolled back in his head, his grip on her thigh and stomach tightened, he felt his cock give a painful throb from where he was neglecting it, and his hips picked up their pace into the mattress.

In that moment, he was completely surrounded by her.

Her moans and breaths were all that entered his ears, her smooth skin all he felt, her musky, succulent juices all he could taste, the colors of her passion, all he could see behind his closed eyelids. In that moment, she was his whole world.

And what a glorious world it is.

Six was close now, so close he could feel the way her clit pulsed against his tongue. He smiled into her at the feeling, lowering one hand between her thighs as his lips stayed anchored to her sensitive, swollen nub. Rough, calloused fingers dragged through her plentiful wetness, before two of them tested her entrance, finding it pliant and wanting for him. For this.

The digits plunged inside without any additional warning, instantly curling against her hot, tender walls and making her release a shout of pleasure that had his throbbing member ready to burst at the seams.

A few well-placed rubs of his textured fingers against her clenching walls, and one last drag of his tongue over her swollen pleasure point, and Six was crying out her nickname for him into the still, stuffy air of the motel room. Rotface didn’t cease though, his fingers pulsed inside her gently, coaxing her orgasm to last as long as possible, helping her through it as he drank in her spilling essence with his whole mouth.

Rotface found himself growing almost as loud as she was, with his sloppy groans and the great buildup of pressure in his aching, straining cock, until that too burst out without much warning. The ghoul spurted his seed into the sheets below, humping into the mattress needily as he continued to nurse on her clit, even as Six began to buck away from him in her oversensitivity.

Finally, with a light push of her hand over his forehead, Rotface tore himself from her. His chin and hollow nose were dripping with her as he caught his breath, he could feel his thighs shaking from the force of his own release, which was still sending small aftershocks through his fatigued body as his cock leaked the last of what it had to offer onto the bed between Six’s legs. And Six... at that moment, she–

“R?” A loud snap sounded in his ears, and suddenly, tragically, Rotface was seated back on his curb, his mind swimming and his body aching as his thoughts raced circles around his mind. “Honey, are you okay? You were tryin’ to say something.”

“I– I was?”

“Yeah, you were gonna tell me what else we had in common? Besides fashion sense and this curb, and then you just… went all radio silence on me. You feelin’ alright?”

Six’s hand pressed down to his forehead, and her touch sent a shock through him.

Fuck… Another goddamn daydream. And… so real.

Stupid fucking drink.

He glared at the bottle in Six’s hand as she sat down next to him.

“You do feel a little warm. You wanna just take it easy tonight? I don’t have to take clients, maybe we could… I don’t know.” She laughed as she trailed off, and Rotface felt his heart renew its frantic pounding once again.

With one sentence, one confession, one request, I could maybe, maybe, make that dream of mine a reality.

Rotface took a breath as he felt her eyes on him, trying not to pay her gaze too much mind, as he began his confession.

For real, this time.

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