#it's the little things..... this movie is so good....................

[periprose]

Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image. 

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent. 

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea. 

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit  that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

/

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking. 

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick. 

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did. 

/

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home. 

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins. 

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.  

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

/

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?” 

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.   

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you. 

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder. 

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper. 

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together. 

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does. 

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes. 

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

/

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things. 

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways. 

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

/

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck. 

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you. 

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course. 

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body. 

“I said, how is that any different from before?” 

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad. 

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember). 

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself. 

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business. 

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops. 

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses. 

You blink, tears rolling down your face. 

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room. 

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

/

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day. 

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders. 

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

/

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.” 

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world. 

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain. 

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does. 

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

/

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out. 

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his. 

You laugh at something the knight next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth. 

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular. 

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist. 

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition. 

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout tv #fallout x reader #fallout x you #ghoul x reader #ghoul x you #fallout show #fallout 2024 #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fotv #fallout series #fallout prime #the ghoul angst #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fluff #cooper howard imagine #fallout imagine

[lymtw]

Toji in a fresh relationship with you, where he notices how uncomfortable and anxious you are when you're alone with him. You can't hold his gaze without giggling nervously and blushing like crazy, and you can't stand when you can feel him watching you. It doesn't bother him. He usually meets your little giggle fits with a "what're you giggling about now? Huh?" a smirk on his face as he watches you try to compose yourself.

You noticed through your peripheral vision that Toji is looking at you. Your heart starts beating faster and faster, but you try to focus on the movie, anyway. Toji knows you caught on to him watching you, though. He saw your quick little side eye towards him before going back to the movie.

"Loosen up," his deep voice interrupts your "focused" bearing. "Why're you so nervous?" His hand settles on your knee, his thumb slowly stroking the area. It was meant to soothe your nerves, but really it just made your stomach errupt with butterflies.

"I'm okay," you say, your mouth incredibly dry. You turn your head as he scoots closer to you on the couch. "'M I okay to sit here?" He asks, watching the way you pull your hand away from between you and him, into your lap. His hand returns on you, this time on your thigh.

"You're shaking," he points out with a knowing smile on his face.

You have to think for a second before responding. Your ears were buzzing, your heart would not settle, you were truly in a daze whenever Toji was around.

"Just a little cold," you lie. "I'm fine, though." You return the soft smile, turning your focus back to the movie.

"Then come here. What are you sitting so far from me for?" He puts an arm over your shoulders, pulling you tight against him.

Your body goes rigid in his hold. He's like a furnace, and the heat emmanating from his body was enough to make you feel like you were overheating. His scent was wet dream fuel—intoxicating and addicting. It was strong enough for you to start manifesting his appearance in your dreams, with the most lewd and unholy intentions.

His fingers stroked your arm, eliciting goosebumps on your forearms and your thighs. He can tell your attention isn't on the movie anymore. Your leg is bouncing, your knee occasionally knocking against his.

"What are you so nervous about, sweetheart? C'mon, talk to me." You can hear the amusement in Toji's tone. He pauses the movie, demanding your attention, but you don't even know where to start. There are so many things and yet you can't get a single one of them out.

"You don't like hanging out alone with me?"

"I do," you answer, instantly, trying to avoid hurting his feelings. You clasp your hands together in an attempt to relax.

"Then what's the problem, pretty?" He watches as you sit quietly, looking down at your lap. "Look at me." Your eyes slowly meet his, the eye contact giving you the illusion of being swallowed whole. "What is it?"

Your hands unclasp and your fingers start fidgeting with one another. "You're very attractive..." you mumble, basically inaudible to Toji.

"One more time for me, doll," he says, asking you to repeat yourself. He leans in to listen closely.

"You're... very attractive," you hesitantly repeat, this time with enough volume for Toji to hear you.

He's trying so hard not to laugh at how embarrassed you look at your admission, but it's not possible when you look so ashamed for saying it out loud.

"You're attracted to me, so you shrink?" He asks, the wide smile left behind from his laughter not diminishing.

You nod, your hands coming up to your face to cool down your burning cheeks. Toji finds the glossiness in your eyes adorable.

"So, I'm the one scaring you?"

"No...? I don't know..." You look away from Toji.

"You don't know." He chuckles. He knows it's him, but he won't let up because he's having a damn good time making you coil in on yourself. "Let me tell you something, doll face." He turns his whole body towards you, his leg bent on the couch. The movement causes you to lean back, adding space between you and him. His eyes flit between your eyes and your lips. "You are stunning. There's way too much to appreciate on that little mug of yours." He grins at the blush on your cheeks. "There's no need to be so shy around me. I'm not gonna eat you." He leans in again, taking up the whole space you made between you and him. "At least not yet."

Your heart dropped to your guts. You weren't sure you'd make it through the night without having a heart attack.

"You wanna kiss me, don't you?" His eyes center on yours, and you giggle, a valid response to his question. He smirks knowing the meaning behind your reaction. "I have eyes, babe. There's really no use denying it."

The closer he moves towards you, the more you feel like screaming. You know a good scream would relieve a whole lot of tension for you, but what would that look like to Toji?

"I-I do..."

"Then come here. Why are you leaning away?" He lets out a deep chuckle. "I'll lead if you want."

"Fine," you surrender.

Toji sighs, contentedly. "Just don't move. I'm serious, pretty girl. You move, and i'll bring the cuffs out."

You crack a grin, one that evolves into a laugh after a few seconds.

"Kidding, ma. Just wanted to make you laugh." He grins.

You don't even notice how close he's sitting until you stop laughing. You stare at each other in silence, his eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips again.

"Just relax and-"

You lean in this time, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. It's like a zap of electricity to your entire body when you feel his lips against yours. They're warm, and surprisingly soft. He doesn't shove his tongue into your mouth, which you're grateful for. That's for later on. You just couldn't wait any longer. Waiting was making you even more anxious, so you dived into the moment.

"Oh, sweetheart," he almost groans. "You'll drive me insane if you keep up the shy girl act," he mutters against your lips. "I know you want me like I want you, so quit making me beg." He moved closer towards you, knowing you'd back away, eventually meeting a dead end with your back against the couch. Your eyes told him everything he needed to know. You were lusting over him and you wanted him to get you.

You looked up at him with starry eyes, your cunt throbbing at the way he watched you closely. You watched as he quickly invaded your personal space, his body wedged between your legs, making them spread wider to accomodate his size difference.

"What are you so scared of? Don't you want me?" His hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His knuckles grazed your lower abdomen a couple times, making your heart race.

"I-I do, Toji." Your focus went to his crotch rubbing up against you as he leaned in.

"Yeah, you do?" He purred beneath your ear, allowing his lips to meet the sensitive skin of your neck after.

"Fuck," you whimper. "I do."

"You wet for me?" He asks, moving his lower body enough to make you believe he's just balancing himself, but still giving you the friction that's making you lose your composure.

"Mhm," you hum, breathing erratically as he kisses up the column of your neck, towards your chin.

"Can I check?" He murmurs, nipping at your jawline. You shut your eyes, your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as another blissed out "mhm" leaves you.

His hand slides down your waist, moving towards the center of your stomach where he continues sliding down until his fingers go under your pants' waistband. He feels the elastic band of your underwear, his fingers maneuvering beneath it as well. You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower until he's tracing your slippery folds. His dick twitches at the amount of arousal drooling out of you.

"You're bad, mama." He sighs, listening to your little breaths as he teases you. How long had you been turned on to be this wet? "Were you gonna keep this from me had I not been so persistent?" His middle and index fingers glide up and down your slit.

You let out a moan when he started rubbing your clit, his rough pads giving you more friction than anything you've ever felt.

"Answer me." His dark, green eyes bore into your closed ones. "Were you gonna get yourself off once I left?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, Toji," you cried out, writhing beneath him. "Didn't wanna tell you. It's embarrassing," you whine.

He chuckles. "That why you were on edge earlier? 'Cause you were on the edge of cumming, untouched?"

You nod, rolling your eyes open to meet his gaze. Your lust-filled gaze made chills run up his spine, the sight borderline sinful. He cups your jaw with his free hand, his grip tight as he stares into your constellation eyes. "Look at me like that again and i'll fuck you 'til you can't see straight. You hear me?" He was fighting the urge to bust his load into his jeans. It was already hard enough having to watch you as you fell apart on his fingers, but now you were giving him "fuck me" eyes, and it got ten times harder.

His threat only brought your orgasm closer. He had never spoken to you that way before. It had your stomach filling to the brim with butterflies, but you responded with a moaned "uh-huh", anyway.

"T-Toji, I'm gonna cum. More, please," you whimpered.

"Aren't you a sensitive little thing? Didn't even have to finger you to make you cum."

"Oh, fuck-" you cry out, cut off by Toji's hand.

"Shh... I know, I know, sweet girl," he coos, his fingers teasing you down at your entrance. "Gonna cum? Make a pretty mess on my fingers, hm?" He mumbles, his lips returning to your neck.

You hum, sultrily. Your arms are stretched above your head, your nails digging into the armrest of the couch. You arch your back off the cushions, loud gasps released into the air when Toji releases his hold on your mouth. You slowly roll your hips into Toji's hand, chasing the friction against your cunt.

"Fuck, baby. You feeling yourself?" His cock is throbbing at the sight of you looking so careless. Your face is aimed up, your lips parted as you release all the sounds of pleasure that you're capable of. His fingers go back up to your clit, the pad of his middle finger rubbing rapidly at the nub. It was driving you insane, how close you were to cumming on his fingers. Your stomach caved with every breath you inhaled and your whole body trembled as you treaded over the edge of your devastingly powerful orgasm.

Toji watched as you writhed beneath him, his lidded eyes taking in your contorted features as you cried out in overwhelming pleasure. He leaned in to kiss up your neck again, really just wanting to be closer to the source of the sounds filling the room. "So fuckin' pretty," he trilled into your jaw. Your soft little grunts reached his ears, turning to whines as you tried to wriggle away from the stimulation. He didn't miss the way your thighs clamped around his torso, signaling that his touch was getting to be too much. "Alright, alright. Had enough?"

You nod, a huff leaving you as he slowly takes his hand out of your underwear.

You sigh after catching your breath, feeling enlightened and satisfied. You giggle when you see Toji's staring at you. "What?"

"It's gonna be my mouth next time." His hands are on your hips, massaging deep circles into the material of your pants. "M gonna taste you on my tongue, and I want all that wetness on my lips and your cum all over my face, instead of my fingers."

"You're so vulgar, Toji," you say, with a smile on your face. You're unaware of how big the hearts in your eyes are when you look at this man.

He sighs as he lays down on you, his body weighing you down. He looks up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "How can you expect any different when you look like hell's favorite sinner when you cum?" He exhales through his nose, thinking of the look on your face that is now engraved into his mind. His dick could become a huge problem if he thinks about it for too long. "For real, doll, I wanna see that again but with my face between your legs."

You giggle to yourself, wishing the comment didn't have you blushing like you were. Your whole body was heating up.

"You're not gonna run when I get close to you next time, right? Gonna be a good girl for me?" He smirks at the twitch of your thighs around him.

"No, i'll be good. I promise."

"That's right, baby. I'll be looking forward to it," he says before burying his face into your breasts.

#toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #dilf toji #jjk toji #jjk toji x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fic #jjk scenarios #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff

[blueskittlesart]

deeply refreshing to see someone critical of Swift who also like, genuinely likes her. Like i'm neutral to positive on her, but the online discourse has been absolutely rancid. flipping between "Taylor Swift has never done anything wrong ever and she's a fucking genius" and "Taylor Swift is the worst lyricist of all time and also a bad person" is exhausting, so thank you for like. nuance or something lmao

not to make it serious for a sec but i genuinely think that being able to like things that are bad is really important. like I think that it's an important skill to be able to look at something and see what you personally enjoy about it and then take a step back and acknowledge that objectively it's flawed. and to also be able to acknowledge that liking something isn't necessarily an identity or a moral stance. and i think that fandom space in general could really benefit from more people taking the time to learn how to do that. it's okay to like things that are bad

#people ask me sometimes why ill occasionally talk about something i like and then go 'but it's bad' and the answer is usually because it is #i love teen wolf. i love genshin impact. i love detective conan. and i fucking LOVE taylor swift. that doesnt mean theyre good #it just means i like them. and recognizing their flaws actually helps me better identify what i like about them! #it's like. in my mind bad > good is the x axis and i like it > i dont like it is the y axis yk. they're not mutually exclusive #tldr it's not that serious. we can all relax a little #irt taylor swift i do also think she has done some real harm to her fans in enabling them to deflect all criticism of her as misogyny #and i don't think it's fully the fault of these people who are parroting that response bc so much of her marketing has deliberately #reinforced this idea that to be a swiftie is to be a part of a sisterhood and that any attack on taylor is an attack on all of those women #who are in that in-group. when that's obviously not the case. but she's marketed herself as. for lack of a better term. 'girl music' #to the point where it makes her fans feel as though any criticism of the music or the woman responsible for it is an attack on their #personal experience of womanhood/girlhood/sisterhood/etc. and that's how you get all of thess bad-faith accusations of misogyny #i don't necessarily think this was her deliberate goal with her marketing tho because like. on first glance such a strong sense of communit #among fans sounds like a great thing. the friendship bracelets i got at the eras tour movie are really genuinely special to me. #but it does present a problem when your fans are unable to separate how they feel about the community and experience your music has fostere #from how they feel about you as a person. especially when you are a billionaire who absolutely CANNOT be above criticism in this economy #anyway. tldr i love taylor's music and i don't think swiftie hivemind is as deliberately malicious as it may seem #but it's obviously necessary to be able to take a step back and look objectively at what you're participating in. #anyway stream ttpd or don't idc <3 #taylor swift

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

A Flawless Muse - LN

Request from @flrboyd - hi, I was wondering if you could write something with lando based around these 2 tiktoks, where he just documents anything the reader does even if it's normal tasks like he just always capture atleast part of a moment where they're together https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMVntrW3/ https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMVnDwHd/

No part 2 requests please

When fans saw a y/n.mov account be created they initially thought it was a fan account or she was getting into movie making in following the footsteps of her boyfriend. But what no one expected was for it to be Lando capturing and documenting as many moments of his girlfriend's life as possible.

Videos span from travelling to exploring to bedrotting to cooking to her third-wheeling his golf with Max or Zak.

He doesn't necessarily capture every moment, sometimes pulling out his camera can ruin it but y/n has never complained or discouraged him.

Today's documenting was the journey actually quite a long stretch of time. Going from Monaco to Woking to Miami for the next race.

Lando smiles setting up the camera to look at y/n. He does also feature himself in some clips, like waking her up.

"Baby, time to get up up up." Lando smiles squishing her under his weight as he presses several kisses on her cheek earning a grin from her.

She doesn't know she's being recorded, but really with Lando at this point, he's recording her so often she is very much aware to always be cautious of it.

They get up and grab luggage, throughout all of which Lando manages carry quite a few of the bags and capture a good few clips of her before they get on the jet.

One thing he's always missed and slept through when it comes to their flights. Y/n has a very meticulous skincare routine since she says flying so much dries out her skin.

Lando sets up the camera to capture her going through each step of her skincare. A cleanser, toner, two serums, eye cream and moisturiser which doubles as "hydrating mask"

"So was that all cinematic?" Y/n jokes as Lando stops recording.

"Very cinematic." Lando confirms earning a grin from the young woman before she shuffles a little closer. "You want to put it on me?"

"Pretty please?"

"Can I capture it on video?"

"Always."

-

If asked Lando would say y/n was just made for the camera. He thinks she is so perfect, though he is slightly selfish in that he believes she was best made for his camera specifically.

Being in Woking, Lando might be the first to admit it's not the most cinematic of places to capture on camera but when y/n is there, he thinks it's improved ten fold.

Y/n is walking around MTC looking at the old cars. Lando can't even help it when he comes out to find her peaking into one of the cockpits. He scrambles for his camera, somehow not catching her attention before he moves to capture her.

But it takes only a few seconds for her to spot him and without even thinking she's jogging towards him with a beaming grin.

"You're so pretty." Lando laughs as she get close enough and he stops recording.

"I feel bad to say I know, but you tell me so often I think denying it would be criminal behaviour." Y/n jokes then sighing. "Done for the day?"

"Yes...you didn't crash my car, did you?"

"No. Someone else crashed into your car. There's a difference." Y/n grins playing along with the joke. "They only took off the door and then reversed back into me to test the crumple zone."

"Oh right, of course." Lando laughs before he sighs and they begin to head out, saying by to everyone they pass and wishing everyone safe travels for when they get out to Miami.

Usually Lando likes to take any opportunity to go out for dinner, while y/n likes to take any opportunity to cook at home. Mainly because she likes the familiarity of shopping at food shops in the UK. So she talks Lando into taking them to a Big Tesco (iykyk), which he agrees to purely because he thinks he could capture more footage of her in a new setting.

-

The journey to Miami is fun. However her betrayal to McLaren is captured in 4k when she gasps seeing the pink Red Bull caps.

"-Baby, you can't wear Red Bull."

"Why? Does McLaren have bright pink cap too?" Y/n gasps in excitement as she looks across to the McLaren merch stand only to deflate and turn to the woman working in Red Bull. "Can I have a Max cap?"

"I'm dumping you." Lando grumbles, not meaning it for even a second as she pays for the cap.

Y/n grins putting the cap on and much to Lando's annoyance, it looks very good on her. Even if he might have a bias that everything looks good on her. He places his camera down to record them before pulling the cap off and adjusting it to the right size for her head and then putting it back on her head.

Y/n and Max do come across each other and Lando captures the interaction of Max looking very proud over the fact she's sporting not only Red Bull much but his number 1 sits very forward on the cap.

Despite him working throughout the weekend and it being Miami, Lando still manages to capture her on camera continuously. Even seeing up the camera so it captures her watching him. Though her Red Bull cap was banned from being within the confines of the garage. Which almost earned her an invitation to Max's garage instead.

When the race weekend is over, they're on their way back to Monaco. Oddly on a flight via Max as had been the case for China too. Lando spends the whole time editing the first parts his video footage, though he manages to balance that along with capturing y/n and Max yapping about the weekend before she falls asleep, the RBR cap resting over her eyes as she curls up with her head resting on his leg forcing him to balance his laptop on his other leg.

"I'm burning that cap and doing whatever to get her a bright pink McLaren cap." Lando comments earning a small laugh from the Dutchman.

"How's your mini movie for her?"

"I'm not allowed to show anyone but her sneak peaks. You'll have to wait." Lando smiles then reclining his chair back as he lifts the cap slightly just to check that she's sleeping. "But actually this might be the best video I've made...aside from her domestic bliss day."

"No wonder Kelly says you're the best boyfriend." Max hums watching Lando grin, very smug over his title.

"Yeah, I'm pretty much untouchable."

"Yeah, but she's still wearing my cap." Max hums then finding the fact thrown at him before Lando just puts his hand over her eyes to block out the light.

"It will be burned."

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando #lando x reader #norris #lando norris mclaren #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris one shot #lando norris fic #ln4 #ln4 one shot #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 fanfic #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #mclaren #mclaren f1 #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren racing #f1 fic

[starry-bi-sky]

Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.

-------- Snippet 1

Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.

Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.

-------- Snippet 2

Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*

Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)

Danny: ...what

--------

Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.

Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.

-------- Snippet 3

Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!

Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!

Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF

Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me

-------- Snippet 4

Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.

Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?

Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.

-------- Snippet 5

Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him

Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.

Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan

Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.

-------- Snippet 6

Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.

Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....

Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*

--------

Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.

He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.

But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.

Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.

And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.

So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.

And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.

But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.

Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.

-------- Snippet 7

Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--

Sam, choking on her water: he what--

Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #i have a doodle of that little scene with vlad actually. its in my notebook lmao. #danny gets *furiously* shakespearan when he's insulting someone. sam and tucker have recorded some of his rants #and they are just pure gold. #sam and tucker calling danny 'dan' as a nickname 2024. #which reminds me about how TUE would even happen. someone in my ao3 comments made a good point about how they weren't sure if my danyal #would even have a TUE occur because he's not the cheating type. i've seen clips of how he got his hands on the test answers but i'll need t #watch the episode to gauge if Dan is even feasible. and if he is what changes to make him happen. hmmm. much to think about #don't think danyal would stay with vlad even in the midst of his grief. hmhmhm #dpdc

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[2.7K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #3

You didn’t have to wait seven whole days to see Steve again, and when you did, it wasn’t poolside.

This meant that between you both, there were a lot more clothes than normal, but you found out the hard way that that fact didn’t really make a difference to the effect he now had on you. There was a party at some rich kids house on the outskirts of town, someone called Sam that neither you nor Eddie knew all that well but Robin used to work with him at the Shake Shack and well-- if Robin was going somewhere, Steve followed, and if Steve was allowed through the door, that meant Eddie had a ticket in too.

If Eddie was there? High chance you were too.

It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.

Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.

The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.

You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.

His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”

You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.

You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.

Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.

“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”

You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.

“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”

Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”

You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.

“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.

The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”

“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”

A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.

“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.

It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.

“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”

He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”

You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.

“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”

“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.

You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.

“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”

Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”

“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”

Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.

You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.

So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.

You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.

“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.

You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?

Would it matter?

It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.

Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”

His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.

Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.

The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.

“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”

You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.

He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”

It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.

If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.

He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.

If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.

But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.

Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.

“What’s up, fuckers?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot

[pbueckerslover]

gf paige headcanons pt. 2 ⋆·˚ ༘

warnings: mentions/talks of sex, fluff

notes: ty for all the love on part 1!! i’m having sm fun w/ these headcanons so lmk if you have any specific suggestions :)

-loves braiding your hair any chance she can get

-secretly loves being little spoon and laying in your arms

-will always take care of you when you’re sick or on your period (she’ll buy you all of your fav snacks, drinks and anything that will cheer you up)

-when you’re on your period she’ll rub your stomach and back because she understands the pain and just wants her girl to feel better

-will binge your favorite tv shows and movies with you

-takes you shopping whenever she feels like it because she knows you deserve that princess treatment !!!!

-loves to surprise you when you haven’t seen each other for a while (she’ll make a big deal out of it and buy you things, take you out to dinner, decorate your place, etc.)

-always touching you in some way because she just can’t keep her hands off of you

-definitely makes you do tiktoks with her and kk and will teach you the dances

-loves taking bubble baths with you it’s her fav thing to do to wind down after a long day

nsfw warning!!!

-strap game goes CRAZYYYYY

“want you to ride my cock baby” “taking my cock so well babygirl”

-her fav thing to do is take care of you especially after you’ve had a long day “let me make you feel better baby, i know just the thing to cheer you up”

-loves it when you take control like it’s literally the most attractive thing you can do in her opinion

-jealous as hell!!! even if someone stares at you for too long she’ll drag you out of wherever you are and once you get home you know you’re in for a long night

“you’re all mine baby” “nobody will every fuck you as good as me you got that?”

-morning sex w her 🤭🤭🤭

-she absolutely loves it when you wear lingerie or something sexy for her and she thinks you look so pretty in it but all she can think about is ripping it off of you

-whispers the nastiest shit in your ear when you’re in public just to see you get all worked up

authors note: pls send more suggestions i love these!! 💌

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #wlw #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

[luvyeni]

p. bsf!sohee x fem!reader | warnings: voyeurism (?), blowjob, allusions to sex | words: 0.8k ~ (854) 💂‍♂️ㆍ₊⊹

request: sohee smut pleaseeee 🫶🏻?

authors note. here you go lovey🩵

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

living in the ages of various streaming services; you barely made it out to go the movies; opting to wait until it came on tv— avoiding spoilers on tiktok so you could peacefully watch it the comforts of your own home; you just really didn’t enjoy the inside movie theater— so imagine your surprise when your best friends basically kidnaped you to drag you to a random drive in movie theater.

“sohee are you serious?” you scoffed as you pulled into the almost empty theater, the other three cars probably containing couples who want to fuck or teens needing a place to get high— or both. “what?” he smiled. “i thought it would be fun.”

the teenager who probably wanted a job but didn’t want to do any work sat scrolling on his phone. “this place is like 100 years old, and i doubt that popcorn is any good.” you pointed. “don’t worry I got us covered.” he pointed to the back seat, a bag full of snacks and drinks. “just gotta tune the radio so we can hear the movie.” he said. “cheer up, it will be fun.”

you decided to give it a try and not be so pessimistic— grabbing a blanket to cover yourself, grabbing some chips and a beer. “you know, most people don’t come to these things.” sohee said; munching on some chips. “yeah.” you laugh. “as you can see these three cars here besides ours and that car has been rocking for the past 20 minutes and there’s smoke coming out that one.” you pointed it out. “and i think that one is abandoned.”

he look around pouting; he really wanted to try something new with you. “don’t be too upset, you know i don’t like these types of things, but this isn’t all that bad so i give you props.” you reached over, pinching his cheek. “good job.” he smiled, stuffing his face some more with his favorite trip.

a few more minutes past of watching the movie when you heard a loud moan. “oh my god.” you let out a snort. “told you.” you turned to your friend, who’s neck was now red. “aw is our little sohee getting excited hearing the couples have sex.” he scratched the back of his neck. “sh-shut up.” You laughed. “you are!” you exclaimed, he whined covering his face. “is that why you invited me out here to live out you voyeur fantasies, pervert.”

sohee felt himself chub up in his pants, your words along with the moaning was doing unimaginable things to him. “it is hot, isn’t it?” you said. “he seems to really be giving it to her.” you smirked, seeing his hand come up to cover his hard on. “y-yn.” you placed your hand on his knee. “please don’t.”

“you don’t want me to touch you?” you tilted your head teasingly. “the movie still has 30 minutes left, are you gonna sit there palming your cock to the couple fucking next to us or are you gonna let me suck you off?” he moved his hand, heavily breathing; he couldn’t believe his best friend was about to suck him off. “lift your hips up.”

he lifted his hips, letting you pull out his cock, his tip dark red, dripping with pre-cum. “shit, hearing them fuck made you this hard, you really are a little perv aren’t you?” he let out a loud whimper as your hand wrapping around his length. “its kind of pathetic.” You squeezed his cock. “oh fuck! please don’t do that.” he moaned out.

“why?” you pouted, leaning over;;kissing his tip. “you gonna cum just from me squeezing your cock.” you squeezed it again, gripped the arm of the chair. “really pathetic hee.”

you finally put the boy out his misery, putting his cock into your mouth. “fu-fuck.” he moaned. “yo-your mouth is.” he gasped, unable to speak barely as you bobbed your head, jerking off what you couldn’t speak. “oh fuck your so good.” his head was thrown back, his hand coming to your head softly, caressing it. “sh-shit.”

it was messy, the noises from your mouth as you gagged on his cock will fuel him with jerk off material for mouth. “fuck yn im gonna cum, please get of.” you pulled off of him, looking at him in the eyes, stroking his cock. “come on hee, look at me.” you purred, the boy forced himself to look at you. “good boy.”

“come on cum for me, want you to cum in my mouth.” you put your mouth on his tip, sucking as you stroked the rest of his cock. “shit im cumming.” His hand slapped against the window. “ngh fuck!” he shouted, his cum spurting from his cock, hitting your tongue. “shit.”

you let him finish, pull off of him, swallowing his sticky substance. “yo-you didn’t have to.” but you weren’t listening, taking off your shirt, climbing into his lap, feeling his cock twitch against your clothed cunt. “just pay me back.” you kissed him. “h-how.”

“theres still 20 minutes left, let’s see how many times your cock can make me cum.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #riize x reader #riize smut #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #sohee hard hours #sohee smut #sohee scenarios #sohee x reader

[hanjisunglover]

perv han headcannons?? -🦷

hello my friendo ≽^•⩊•^≼ copy that warnings: nsfw links! male masturbation, he's kinda a creep, somnophilia, penetration.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐕 - 𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆

hanji that every time he sees you in your pretty skits can't contain himself from running into the bathroom and touching his stupid cock because he can't stop imagining to bend you over and fuck you right there, just lifting your skirt enough to take what he wants.

when you invite hanji over with your group of friends he finds your room just to masturbate there, knowing that you probably do the same thing on that bed, right behind him. and just the thought is enough to make him cum shortly, ready to go back on the little movie time with the rest of the people there, acting all nice and shy around you when just a moment ago he was thinking the dirtiest things ever.

gets all mad when hanji find out that some creep mailed you a package with some boxers dirty of sperm, seeing you cry just makes him wants to protect you from those people, even if the boxers are his.

vacation with you and your group of friends is such satisfy thing for hanji, but sharing room with you? because you were so scared of that scary movie that he begged to watch.. knowing how bad you handle them.. telling you to get comfortable as he takes a shower but just the thought of rubbing his dick against your ass when you sleep makes him want to just ruin your pretty body.

but when hanji is away from you for months because he's doing tours, oh that's the worse for him. he can't feel your presence around the dorms, not being able to steal your panties or your clothes that fits him to have your profume with him. he needs to hide his toys in his suitcase to not get caught by the staff or the other members, moaning your name like a desperate man - face buries in the sheets, hand on the toy and the other to grip on the pillows, curling his toes in pleasure.

but when you let hanji fucks you, he's not gonna keep it quiet, he's loud even by himself. he's not gonna last long, he desired being inside you for a while that feeling you so warm and wet, he just wants to make a big mess. "a-ah.. yes baby, taking so good for me.. oh fuck you're so wet.. so wet and warm.. you're gonna make me cum soon."

#🦷 anon #hi baby #perv jisung #Han Jisung #Han Jisung smut #han jisung stray kids #han jisung skz #han jisung imagines #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #stray kids #han jisung headcanons #han jisung x y/n #han smut #stray kids hard thoughts

[ikeuverse]

MR. FUNNY GUY — l.heeseung

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor WC: 3.8k+

WARNINGS: a few swear words, mentions of alcohol. yeji, sunghoon's sister, is portrayed in this fic as being of age, because there is a part that insinuates that she has been drinking.

NOTES: this came to me as a totally random thought and made me want to write it, without pretension. yes, konon is written as jake's girlfriend just because i wanted something totally different, and i've never seen anyone put her as the girlfriend of any of the boys. idk, nothing special, hehehe. i hope you like it!

 masterlist

Every group of friends consists of having outstanding personalities or a representative for each thing among them. Heeseung could be the personification of the funny kid.

He had always been in charge of making the best jokes and making everyone laugh ever since he met his friends at the end of high school and the beginning of university. With Heeseung around, it was as if there was no sadness at all.

Even his attitude was that of a big, awkward, funny guy, which gave him even more credit for his antics. 

Heeseung was responsible for making Jake stop crying when he got his first low grade in calculus at university. Not even his girlfriend was able to cheer him up, but Heeseung trying to prepare a smoothie and forgot to close the lid of the blender, causing all the fruit and mixtures to fly around the kitchen... Oh, that got a good laugh out of Jake. And a few curses from Jay, for sure.

Heeseung was also responsible for making Sunghoon and Yeji cry with laughter a week after their puppy went missing. She was crying and he said he would help his friends find her, even if their hopes were slim. Heeseung did find her, but that didn't stop him from coming back all wet and with mud all over his shorts because the dog had wandered into a garden and he ran with his life to rescue her. Telling that story out loud made it all worthwhile in the end.

What Heeseung never managed was to get many smiles out of you, Yeji's best friend. It wasn't as if you and she joined Sunghoon's group of friends very often, but when you did, you were the only one who stayed quietly in the corner of the room and didn't crack a smile when he made a joke.

At first, it didn't make much difference to him, not least because you only appeared occasionally and Heeseung only found out about you sometime later. Because you really were so quiet that you seemed almost invisible. But as time went by and Yeji attended more and more of the boys' meetings – even more so after she and you made friends with Jake's girlfriend – Heeseung didn't want to admit it, but he started to feel a bit insulted. 

Why weren't you laughing at his jokes? Why didn't you crack a single smile at his antics in front of his friends? You were supposed to hate him, in Heeseung's mind. That was the only explanation for why he never saw a single curved movement of your lips.

"Relax, man" Sunghoon said one night when the two of them were in the kitchen preparing the popcorn for the movie. "Yeji said that Y/n is like that, very closed," he took a larger bowl to pour the contents into, placing it next to another in case he needed a spare. "She took a while to open up to the girls, so maybe it's nothing personal."

So it would seem. Heeseung thought, rolling his eyes as he tried to forget about it and focus on the movie night they all had together.

A whole month passed and he tried not to focus on the thought that you didn't like him, because if that were the case, Heeseung would have gotten there first. He knew everyone there before you did, so if you didn't like him, you might as well not hang out with them anymore and just be friends with Yeji and Jake's girlfriend.

But no, that night what he wanted to happen happened. And without expecting much, without creating any expectations that you would smile at him.

"What are you three doing?" Sunghoon approached and ruffled Yeji's hair, hearing his little sister grumble and curse him for it. 

"Trying to make sushi at home" she huffed "But Konon's the only one who can, and she gives the hardest tasks to me and Y/n to do."

"Come on, I think we're doing fine," you said, avoiding looking at Konon because you knew she was laughing at the two of you.

You held up a hot roll you had just rolled, hoping it wouldn't fall out of your hand and spill all the rice. Your eyes met Sunghoon's and then looked at Heeseung, who was standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You're doing a great job," Sunghoon complimented.

"Yeah, long and crooked... Looks like Sunghoon" Heeseung pointed to the hotroll in his hand, and he almost shouted when he heard the sound of your laughter.

It wasn't possible what Heeseung's eyes were seeing at that moment. You. Laughing and then smiling at him... Did that really happen?

Sunghoon abruptly turned to Heeseung as if he was thinking the same thing. Of course, he and the boys were the only ones to hear Heeseung's lament that you never smiled at anything he did. But now it had just happened.

And he wasn't sure if he wanted to see it again, because strangely Heeseung's heart was pumping in a way that he wasn't happy about. Not to mention the fact that, apart from thinking about your smile and the sound of your laugh for weeks, the boy wasn't proud to say that he had dreamt about it.

Was it stupid to say that he had actually dreamed of your smile? Shit, that couldn't be possible.

"Heeseung!" Jake shouted to get his friend's attention, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

"Fuck, what a fright" Heeseung wriggled in his chair "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you for about five minutes, what world were you in?"

"In the world where Y/n keeps smiling at him" Sunghoon hummed.

Fucking bastard... How did Sunghoon have to be so direct like that? All right, his friends knew and couldn't stand to hear Heeseung fantasize about it for weeks, but hearing it out loud from someone else made him feel like a bit of an idiot.

"In my defense, I'm still in shock about this" he tried to say, hearing Jay's laughter from across the room.

"Still? How long has it been... like, three weeks? A month?" he asked, already knowing the answer. If Heeseung were to count, it had been a month and a few days, because every month the girls tried to make a different food. And he distinctly remembers his skills – not unlike Konon's – in rolling the seaweed into sushi.

"Do you like her?" Jake sprawled further back on the sofa, almost throwing his legs over Heeseung's lap. Sunghoon was sitting on the floor staring at the TV while the movie was still playing.

"What? No" he said too quickly, regretting it the moment all the boys' eyes landed on him.

"Dude, you literally went to great lengths just to make her laugh for you" Jay got up from his chair to walk over to Sunghoon and sit down next to him on the floor.

"And when that happened, you didn't stop talking about it the whole time," Jake added.

"I said you could all make me stop talking—"

"We don't want to, it's cute" Sunghoon smiled "Besides I think it happened a few more times after sushi night."

"What?" it was Heeseung's turn to shout, startling Jake who was cursing at him quietly as he curled up on the sofa.

At that moment Heeseung was standing in the living room, pacing back and forth near the TV and watching his friends with mixed feelings. Jake was still recovering from his shock, Sunghoon was pressing his lips together, feeling guilty for saying it just then. While Jay held in his laughter and closed his eyes to wait for the conversation to unfold.

"You're just telling me about this now? Fuck Sunghoon, what do you mean?"

"Dude, I'm sorry" he said, "It's just that you got so excited about it that if I told you she smiled a few more times, you might explode."

"I'm exploding right now" from the coloring of his face, it could be possible.

What do you mean you smiled at Heeseung or something related to him and Sunghoon didn't say anything at all? Now he wanted to know, what was the occasion? Had he done something funny, said something at the wrong time, or made a joke? Or did you genuinely smile just because he was around? What had been the circumstance in which you smiled at him?

"All your gears are turning at the moment and I think it's my fault" Sunghoon got up from the floor, straightening his pants and then sighing, "But she smiled at times when you weren't looking."

"Why?"

"Look, I know your mind because I've lived with you for years, but I have no idea what she was thinking about it" Sunghoon's words had a unique effect on Heeseung. He was even more pensive.

"Yeah, he's right," Jake said.

"You too..." Heeseung then turned to Jay.

"Dude, we talked about this for hours and worked it out together," he defended himself, cringing when the other threatened to approach.

"Hey, calm down!" Sunghoon held him by the shoulders even though he knew his friend would do absolutely nothing to any of the three "Now that you know, you can do something about it."

"Yes, kill the three of you."

"Or talk to her and ask why" Jake shrugged and stood up, giving his best smile in response "Now how about we order something to eat? I'm starving."

"No, no more drinks for you today, young lady" Sunghoon snatched the glass from Yeji's hand, listening to his sister's protests even though she was already a little upset.

"But hey, we're celebrating" she tried to catch it, but to no avail, her older brother was taller and would surely use that to his advantage.

"Celebrating what? The loss of your liver?" Heeseung looked around at the number of glasses on the kitchen counter.

He sighed as he imagined that the owner of that house would have an extremely difficult time cleaning up, but his thoughts were soon cut loose by the sound of laughter that flooded the room. His body went still and his eyes widened at the sight of your standing in front of the kitchen door.

"Hey, Heeseung, you look like you've seen a haunting" you waved at him, smiling briefly and then turning your eyes back to the Park siblings.

"He just heard something" Sunghoon added.

Not knowing what it was, you didn't bother asking him and just walked into the kitchen where the three of them were still standing.

"What's going on?" you asked.

"Yeji's already drunk, so let's go home."

"But she's celebrating," you pouted "It's not every day you get an A in Professor Choi's class."

"The worst professor at that university" Yeji picked up a glass to raise and pretend to toast, then put it back on the counter.

"But you've had enough, so I think you'd better go home" he looked at his sister and then at you "Has Jake taken Konon yet?"

"They just got home, Jay told me as soon as I came into the kitchen" you looked around for something to drink "And you two, what are you doing here?"

Sunghoon had gone after Yeji before he left and Heeseung had been in charge of looking for you, so the two of them could take you home safe and sound. But he didn't want to say that out loud.

"We came after you two," Sunghoon replied.

"Okay, let's go" Yeji whined "I won't be able to finish my drink anyway."

"Not even if we just have one more beer? It'll be quick and—"

"Nope" Heeseung stood in front of you when you threatened to approach the fridge. Looking up thanks to his height, this was the closest he had come to you since you two met.

It might have been the effect of the drink or the moment itself, but he looked glistening and that had – strangely – made your heart flutter.

Blame the drink, blame the drink, please.

"Come on Y/n, these two dullards don't know what fun is" Yeji pushed past Heeseung, ignoring his protests as she grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.

"That's it man, a few more moves and you two would be kissing in this kitchen" Sunghoon held Heeseung by the shoulders without missing an opportunity to tease him.

He acted on instinct to stand in front of you so that you wouldn't advance into the kitchen, right? He also ignored the distance between the two of you because he miscalculated his steps and Sunghoon was right to say how close you and Heeseung were. But those thoughts had to be pushed aside as quickly as possible.

And that happened when Jay's voice echoed in Heeseung's ears, standing next to his friend's car.

"Can you take Y/n home?" he asked. Heeseung didn't want to show his shock, but the orbs almost popping out in the expression that caught him off guard made Jay laugh right away "I've had a few drinks and I certainly won't be able to drive."

"But—"

"Take her and come back for me" Jay handed Heeseung the keys to his car.

"Why don't you just go along? I can drop you home later."

"Because I'm not finished here yet" Jay's lips protruded forward in a pout, he took a few steps away from Heeseung, nodding and smiling at his friend "And I don't want to witness anything pornographic in my car. Unless I'm the one doing it," he shouted the last part and Heeseung turned sharply in the direction you were with the Park siblings. 

He would have given anything at that moment for you to be so drunk that you hadn't heard any of the shit Jay had said so far.

"Where's Jongseong going?" Yeji asked when he saw the boy disappearing among some people in the garden of the house.

"He said he didn't finish whatever it is in there" Heeseung sighed "Come on Y/n, I'll take you home."

None of you missed the mischievous giggle that escaped from Yeji, soon to be joined by Sunghoon. Heeseung knew very well about his friend, but why did his little sister even seem to be complicit?

"Do you know where I live?" you asked so naturally that Heeseung had forgotten how serious you were whenever you were around him.

"No, but you can tell me while we go in Jay's car," he said, and you just agreed and let him guide you to the vehicle. Neither of you cared what the Park siblings said as you and Heeseung walked to Jay's car. He showed himself to be a tremendous gentleman by opening the door for you and checking that everything was okay until you buckled your seatbelt so he could close the door and turn the car around.

"Can we go?" he asked and you nodded, giving Heeseung the coordinates so he could get to your house.

For Heeseung, the silence was necessary while he reorganized his thoughts because, for the first time, he was in a place alone with you. That had never happened since the two of you met.

Now for you, the silence was agonizing because it made you think and observe. To think about how hard you'd tried to get away from that man next to you and to observe how well he drove. His hands firmly gripping the leather of the steering wheel, his long fingers drumming now and then when they stopped at a traffic light or how agile his hand was at holding the gearshift. You also found yourself swallowing when his hand accidentally hit your leg when changing gears. He wasn't doing it on purpose, you knew that, but it was inevitable not to smile quickly.

"We're here" he was the first to break the silence, indicating that he had followed your coordinates very well, and now the two of you were parked inside Jay's car and in front of your apartment complex.

You looked out of the window, a sigh escaping your lips as you looked back at the boy in the car sitting next to you.

"Thanks, Heeseung" you said sincerely, opening a smile when his eyes met yours. Heeseung smiled too, but he didn't look so happy about it. He seemed... Annoyed?

"Can I ask you something, Y/n?" he said just like that, not even bothering to respond to your thanks. But you didn't mind either, after all, your sobriety was starting to kick in, but even so, your alcohol-addled body made you more curious than usual.

"Anything," you said.

It took him a while to formulate that question, pondering whether he should really ask it or just let it go and get on with his life as if it didn't affect him. But it certainly did. Heeseung knew why he had dreamt it, he had to ask.

"Why haven't you ever smiled at me?" might seem like a silly question from the outside, or even sad if the person was as sentimental as Heeseung.

At first, your eyebrows drew together in surprise. But then everything relaxed and you unbuckled your belt to turn around and face the boy.

"What do you mean?"

Heeseung repeated your gesture a few seconds later, unbuckling his belt and turning to face you too.

"I mean, ever since we met you've never smiled at anything I've done," he shrugged, trying to sound firm in his words, not wanting to waver or show how ridiculous it might seem "Surely Yeji has already let it slip that I'm the clown of the group and, I don't know, you're the only person who's never given me a single smile."

"Does that bother you?"

No. He should answer, to appear tougher.

"Yes, a little" Heeseung didn't want to follow his thoughts, he wanted to act on the emotion of the moment "I thought you didn't like me or, at worst, thought I was so dull that you begged the girls to get away every time we met in a group."

He was being so honest with you, opening up so genuinely that you felt a little bad. Maybe your way of acting on everything you'd heard hadn't been nice, you might have been a bit extreme with it.

"I'm sorry" was all you managed to say, without knowing exactly why you were apologizing. Whether it was for your reaction or for never getting to Heeseung and wanting to get to know him.

"Why?" he asked.

You didn't want him to ask, so you wouldn't have to explain yourself, you'd get out of the car and drive away. But Heeseung's sparkling eyes seemed to call out to you every second, guiding you to him as if you belonged there, staring at him as the words came freely out of his mouth.

"We have a group of friends at college and certainly Yeji's brother and his friends are sometimes a topic," your gaze quickly shifted to the window behind Heeseung. Anything being more interesting than his eyes paying attention to you right now "I once commented that... Well..."

"Say, it's okay," he tried to encourage you and you looked back at him, could blame it on the drink if something got out of hand, and would say the next day that you didn't remember anything you were saying. Even though by then your sobriety had reached more than half of your body.

"I told I thought you were very handsome" you nibbled your lower lip and continued, not even giving Heeseung time to process the information "A friend of ours said that you were not only handsome but funny, but that was a danger."

"What? Why?" he tried to shake off the tingling feeling in his chest and his cheeks heating up at the confession. So you thought he was handsome from the start.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of the funny boy being a danger?" you crossed your arms and snorted when Heeseung denied it with a nod "He'll make you laugh so much, you'll laugh. Laugh and laugh until you're naked in his bed."

It was his turn to laugh, hiding his face with his hands and messing up his hair.

"Shut up, don't laugh," you groaned in frustration, uncrossing your arms and trying to push his hand away from your face. The contact was electrifying, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Heeseung uncovered his face and looked at you.

"So Yeji's friend said that about me, and you believed it?" Heeseung wanted to sound confident as he raised an eyebrow, even though, if he had to get out of that car, his legs would be as soft as jelly.

"Well..." a few seconds passed and you sighed, "I avoided contact so I wouldn't have to believe it. I don't know, preserve myself as much as possible since you seem to be well known at the university."

"So you didn't want to smile at me because you thought you'd end up in my bed?" Heeseung leaned forward a little, looking a little defiant. You leaned forward too, your hands resting on your lap.

"You make all the girls smile, what difference would it make if I smiled at you?"

Don't be so honest, Heeseung thought to himself, but it was already done when he launched into it.

"Maybe because your smile is beautiful and when that happened on sushi night, I ended up dreaming for a long time."

"What? Did you dream about my smile?" you almost shouted in the car.

"Too many questions for one night, don't you think?" Heeseung pretended to shake himself, looking for the car keys that he hadn't even taken out of the ignition. Turning on the air conditioning might be a good idea since neither of you made any mention of leaving.

"Too many confessions for one night" you leaned back in your seat.

"I think we're going to need a few more nights for you to tell me more" he also leaned back in his seat, but his head remained turned in your direction.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Would you?" he asked back, a stupid – but extremely beautiful – smile adorning his lips as he said again, "I want to prove that friend of yours completely wrong."

"I'd love that, then" to his surprise, asking you out had been completely light-hearted. He didn't feel like throwing up or running away, or even saying something silly, stuttering... Nothing. Heeseung was just himself as he watched you bend down to him and brush your lips against the corner of his.

From the way Heeseung's head was tilted, giving indications that he wasn't going to move, you purposely kissed him on the corner of the lips, pulling away before he made any risky moves.

"I'm waiting for a message from you so we can make an appointment, mr. funny man."

You winked at him, watching as the tip of Heeseung's tongue traced the exact spot where your lips touched the corner of his. The smile never left him as he watched you open the door, wave, and close it to leave.

A smile had never left Lee Heeseung like that.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

#enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen au #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen masterlist #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfics #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines

[flavored-soda]

Some BuckTommy head canons to get you through the next week without an episode:

Buck and Tommy spend the night at each other's place a lot. It's not out of lust (although sex is not off the table), but more out of not wanting to sleep alone.

When they do spend the night with each other, it's not uncommon for one of them to drop off or pick each other up from work. The first time Tommy picked Buck up from work, he was coming off a 24-hour. Buck's exhaustion was setting in and he didn't think anything of it when he kissed Tommy "hello" and took the coffee cup from his hand. Needless to say, he got an earful of teasing from the team.

Tommy let Buck set the pace when they first stated dating. Meaning he let Buck tell him when and what he was ready for. But once they had settled into their relationship some more, Tommy couldn't keep his hands off Buck. He always has to have a hand on his boyfriend's back, arm, shoulder, thigh, holding his hand, even just linking fingers. Just simple, soft touches to keep the two grounded.

Tommy truly noticed how low Buck's self esteem is when he went over to try to help rectify the situation between him and Eddie. When the started dating, Tommy made it his mission to try and boost his boyfriend's self esteem whenever he could. Between sending him little text messages throughout the day and telling him all his favorite little things about his boyfriend. Buck loves every second of it.

Buck says "I love you" first. Buck's leg was flaring up again and this time the pain was particularly bad. Tommy had spent the night at Buck's, and it was a good thing he did because Buck never would've told him otherwise. It was at the end of night, Buck's pain meds had just kicked in and he was feeling a bit loopy. They were laying in bed watching with a movie, though, Buck had been watching Tommy for at least the past 20 minutes. He was drifting in and out of sleep when he said. By the time Tommy reacted, he had passed out for the night. In the morning, Buck woke up to his alarm and a note from Tommy that said "I love you too, Evan. Have a good shift.❤️" To top it off, there was pancakes and bacon in the microwave.

Buck babysitting quickly turned into Buck and Tommy babysitting. Tommy loved watching Buck with Chris, Jee-yun, and Denny. Sometimes it would make him wonder what it would be like when they have their own little family.

i have so many more of these, lemme know if you want to hear more. also come scream in my asks about these ones!

#911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 #bucktommy #911 show #tevan #evan x tommy #evan buckley x tommy kinard #buck x tommy #911 headcanons

[heliiacus]

how bout some good ol' armin x reader cuddle headcannons??

Of course, darling 💗

tags: armin x reader, fluff, domestic bliss, comfort, cuddling, established relationship, needy armin propaganda

warnings: none!

word count: 721

★ The thing about Armin Arlert is that cuddling for this man is no simple matter. Some men prefer to cuddle briefly, or only before sleep; for Armin, cuddling is a love language in itself.

★ Permanent, and I mean permanent, internal turmoil over being the big spoon versus the small spoon. He doesn't fancy himself as "the big man" who doth protect his partner, but he does feel an almost foreign sense of protectiveness when he holds you in his arms. He likes the way you slot against him, whether you are bigger or smaller than he - he finds, one way or another, the exact, perfect match of how to hold your curves and slopes against his bends. He likes the way he can hold your shoulders to his frame; the way he can feel your breath fan against his throat; even the way he overheats while holding you this way. Most of all, however, he enjoys how vulnerable you feel in his arms. Trusting of him, enveloped and hidden in his hold. He feels responsible, in a way, to ensure you stay safe this way.

★ Yet again, Armin wouldn't say he likes to be babied, but what a man says is not always reflective of what he truly feels. He enjoys holding you, of course he does, but something he might not be ready to admit is that he enjoys being held more. It feels natural, this way; slotted flushly against you, feeling your heart beat in that comforting, metronomic nature, he feels warm in body and soul, and in these moments he holds back little - he snuggles closer often, and his limbs tangle with yours, and his hands bury deep into your shirt. He hums, once in a white, short-lived tiny notes that denote nothing else but his contentment.

★ He enjoys, above all else, to be busy with his hands; thumb brushing placidly against the slope of your back, or his hand brushing, nearly restlessly, against your scalp. It soothes him, this constant motion, and he loves to hear you sigh in satisfaction, feeling close to you in that way.

★ Doesn't whine for you to pet his head when you are the bigger spoon, but would like to; whine, that is, but for you to do it, too. Instead he asks, politely, every so while; he is still working up the courage to say he would like it to happen every time.

★ Besides being a comfort and a show of love, cuddling, for Armin, is a tool, too; one to be used in times of despair, to be exact. When he sees you have a bad day, he uses all that he has at his disposal; tea, and words, and forehead kisses, but he knows that guiding you gently, laying you down to rest and holding you - that, that gets you to settle. He urges you, on those days, to bury yourself closer to him; he holds you gentle but firm, arms around your shoulders and on the back of your head. He hums or murmurs to you this way, letting you know that it will pass; to just lean on him, and trust him here - to simply let go.

★ And so he might be a little needy, so what? Is a man not allowed to want for things? When the two of you settle, whether to watch a movie or to simply rest after an exhausting day, even if the two of you exchange little that day, you know, just mere minutes in, that you would feel that telltale brush of his knuckles across your hip. You know you will see that pleading, boyish look on his face, and you know you need nod just slightly, just barely perceptibly, for you to be enveloped in a pair of warm hands in mere seconds. There is a predictability to it - a comforting one.

★ Armin hogs blankets, pillows, and your limbs at night. A simple nuisance you have simply learnt to live with.

★ And if I have not made it clear: despite the heat, and the hogging, and the neediness, Armin is the perfect cuddler. Can't go far with his perception without knowing, distinctly, what is comfortable, what is nice, and what he simply must not do. This, too, you learnt to live with quickly.

dividers by saradika and arlerts-angel

tag list: @arlerts-angel @levistealeaf

@sukunascrustyfinger @chiinni

@nilaaaas @ryoiii

@dilfkentolover @arminarlertssword

@bel-https @layla240

@katestrophes @er3nscottonpicker

@siiyoko @lemontrees-things

@arminarlertspersonalnurse @dvrkfverie

@girlybelle @blvewave

reblogs are dearly appreciated, darlings 💗

#armin arlert #armin fanfiction #armin x reader #armin aot #armin fluff #armin x you #aot headcanons #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #armin arlert fluff #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x y/n #armin x y/n #levi x reader #jean x reader #eren x reader #aot #snk #aot x you #attack on titan fanfiction #my writing #armin headcanons

[radioisntdead]

Too sweet

Alastor x gn reader,

Warnings!!

Mild ooc, reader is dessert themed also kinda imagining they have eyes that resemble 1930's animation but that's just me, casual backstory drop in the middle that's just never brought up again, death, pacing is a little off, Alastor is prepared with angelic steel this time! It does not help whatsoever!

Song: Too sweet

It wasn't a secret that Alastor strongly disliked sweet things, it wasn't a complete hatred but he wouldn't willingly eat any, he preferred bitter things.

It can't be said I'm an early bird

You were as sweet as pure sugar, with that oh so charming smile of yours, your big ol' cartoony eyes, eccentric and positive attitude, not to mention you were quite literally dessert themed, Cake themed outfits, frosted purses, phone case adorned with spackled frosting, sprinkles and charms.

It's ten o'clock before I say a word

You were the most recent addition to the hotel, a few of the hotel's residents didn't quite understand how someone as sweet as you could've ended up in hell, it was theorized that maybe it was an act, a honey coated trap that would lead to the hotel demise or something.

Baby, I can never tell

That was thrown out rather quickly when you kept the same sweetheart persona even when alone, it was just how you were.

How do you sleep so well?

It was concerning to a certain few hotel residents when it was discovered that you had a thing for the Radio demon,

The way your eyes would linger on him for a moment too long, the way you would gaze at him love evident in your eyes.

You keep telling me to live right

Husk gave you a warning one night at the bar, you were sipping on a drink that had more sugar then any drink should, he was cleaning up the bar.

"Look kid, Alastor is a bad decision, this won't end well for you."

"I know." You had responded, twirling around that sickly sweet drink of yours

You weren't naive like your personality seemed to make people think, you knew Alastor was a bad idea, bad news, he was a cannibalistic murderer for heaven's sake!

To go to bed before the daylight

But it was alright to have a small crush that you wouldn't act on, it'd pass eventually but for now it wasn't bad to fantasize about dancing with him, cooking together or about doing something unholy like handholding! Nothing would become of it, you didn't have a good history with relationships anyways.

But then you wake up for the sunrise

Charlie was supportive of your little crush, she had found out about it after accidentally overhearing you drunkenly tell Angel Dust about it, that sugary little drink really did a number on you.

She decided she would try to push you and Alastor together, gently, She was such a great wingman!

After all Alastor tolerated you more than anyone else in the hotel so that's a indication that you might have a chance right? A truly slim one but a chance nonetheless!

You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

When Alastor began enjoying your company a little too much for his liking it was like he, from his prospective had been thrown into a horror movie and trapped with little to no way out.

He enjoyed some of your antics and reactions.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake?

You were helpful around the hotel, helping out with advertising, you'd proofread scripts he had written for his radio broadcast, every time you went out for a treat you brought back some type of pastry or snack for the hotel residents, in particular you'd travel all the way to cannibal town to pick up something for Alastor, you didn't have too, but you did.

Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

As time went on the feelings didn't fade, especially since Charlie heavily suggested that the two of you should work together on hotel related things, and that pinwheeled into the two of you spending more time together, getting closer, and eventually you began to avoid Alastor, you had a tendency to ditch the people you were fond of in a way usually in a cruel fashion, you didn't mean too, truly! But you did and you didn't want to risk it with Alastor for his sake and yours.

If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great

You were a known partier back in your day, you died back in the heights of the roaring twenties where you had the money and privileges to go to lavish parties where anyone who was anyone could attend much like the parties Gatsby held in the great Gatsby, you lived what some folks thought the roaring twenties were all about, Flappers, speakeasies, parties and short-lived prosperity.

You were in your twenties, rebellious and reckless, drinking any drink given to you, playing around with people's emotions with those sickly sweet words of yours, taking whatever substance you were given, and a year before the stock market crash, you were found dead on the dancefloor poisoned by a former darling of yours who didn't like that you had left them because things were getting 'too serious' for you.

You didn't handle death well, and in order to keep at least some of your sanity you went to hurling yourself onto the hellish party scene, frequenting speakeasies, trying to keep some sense of what you knew, repeating harmful cycles, but you couldn't do it forever.

And so you gave up the party scene around the mid 40's, burning bridges and leaving behind many scorned people behind.

You were more unstable back then, but you had improved, at least you thought you did taking up the sweet attitude by a couple notches, switching from drinking alcohol each day to drinking sweet smoothies or milkshakes.

You cleaned up your act and you were continuing to keep it clean especially as you checked into the hotel.

No one there knew about your track record and you would like to keep it that way.

But while in this world

The avoidance didn't last long since Alastor cornered you asking why and you blabbered out your feelings in one big ramble.

And that was that.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

Charlie was ecstatic to learn that you and Alastor had gotten together, Others were concerned particularly Husk, his bets were that either Alastor would end up owning your soul, you'd become just as twisted as Al or you'd end up dead.

None of them would end well for you.

My coffee black and my bed at three

The two of you were opposites, while he took his coffee black and bitter you loaded yours up with milk, sugar and whatever other toppings you wished, when he stayed awake for multiple days in end you snoozed away at night, when he was threatening someone who was messing with the hotel you were trying to defuse the situation with sweet words.

You're too sweet for me

Alastor didn't like sweet things, but he didn't mind you and your sugary sweetness, infact you could say he was growing a little bit of a sweet tooth.

Just the sight of your sweet little smile was enough to cause a slight ache in his heart and that fact that you could be called his now was just wonderful!

You're too sweet for me

He could see himself getting used to all this sweetness, he just needed to make sure no one knew that.

I take my whiskey neat

You smiled, listening intently and sipping on your sweet alcoholic drink while Alastor recounted an encounter he had, a glass of whiskey in his hand whooshing around as he spoke.

My coffee black and my bed at three

It was after a hotel game night mixed with alcohol, the two of you were tired and intoxicated, you were a giggly drunk, laughing at the most mundane things, Alastor was escorting you to your room and much to his surprise it was a challenge as you would stop every few steps to laugh at how the crack in the wall looked like a giraffe or how that stain on the carpet looked like a birthday cake!

You're too sweet for me

By the time he had finally gotten you to your room he was exhausted, you kicked off your shoes leaving them on your floor as you dived into your bed, reveling in the comfortable blankets.

Alastor rolled his eyes as he entered your room leaning down to pick up your discarded shoes to properly put them away in your woredrob, he intended to leave to his own room but you reached out your arms to him making grabby hands, he walked over and leaned in to see what you wanted only for you to suddenly grab him, pulling him down and covering him in the blankets before promptly passing out with your arm wrapped around one of his.

You're too sweet for me

He was going to get up, he truly was but he hadn't slept in hell knows how many days now, and the bed was warm, before he knew it his eyelids were drooped. His shadow thankfully decided to close the door to your room.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go

The next morning he was greeted by you humming while gently petting his fluffy ears, he wasn't sure you knew he was awake at that point, but he rather liked having his ears petted, at least by you and it wouldn't hurt to savor this moment for just a few more minutes before the two of you would have to deal with the duties that the day held for you.

I work late where I'm free from the phone, and the job gets done

Alastor preferred to have his radio broadcast aired in the morning but sometimes he wouldn't get the chance too, [Maybe he indulged a little too much in his morning time with you]

He would air around eight pm and sometimes you would hang around his tower, doing whatever activity you had brought along until he was done and the two of you would walk back to the hotel, maybe grabbing a bite to eat.

But you worry some, I know

Other nights you would turn on the radio in his room and curl up in a blanket on the leather chair he had, closing your eyes and listening to his oddly soothing voice.

But who wants to live forever, babe?

Alastor didn't particularly believe that heavens gates would accept sinners even if they were redeemed, but nothing is impossible and he, although he doubted it, could be wrong and the Hazbin hotel could be a success in redeeming sinners left and right and you were one of the residents checked in for redemption.

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate

Alastor moved a piece of your hair away from your face, careful not to disturb your sleeping position on his chair, he could admit to himself that he had gotten attached to you, and he couldn't just have his darling little partner leave him behind to fraternize with the winners above now could he?

The rest of you like you're the TSA

He picked you up from the chair and moved you over to his bed, tucking you in.

If anyone in this damned place could get redeemed it was you.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

And Alastor, well he wasn't the type to be looking for redemption or redeemed, he was even less of the type to blindly follow someone somewhere even if it was you.

He did wish he could see his mother who obviously was in heaven but that simply just wasn't in the cards for him, it was tragic but he did murder people, he died while burying a body after all!

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Alastor cut into the dead deer he had just sat on his table, he was about to take a bite when he caught a glimpse of you shooting up from his bed looking around in hasty panic before you visibly calmed at the sight of him, with one of your signature surgery sweet smiles that caused swirls in his heart you bid him a good morning.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

Alastor strolled into the hotel after a day of errands, only to see everyone cluttered together looking at something you were holding that he couldn't see, you noticed him and waved him over, grinning as you held the red creature in your arms that looked strikingly like Alastor, you went on a small tangent about how you had found the little guy while taking a stroll around the hotel.

If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait

In all honesty he wanted to hurl the creature out the window but you were stubborn in saying that the two of you should keep the catlike creature immediately dubbing it as your son much to Alastor's displeasure.

Until that day

He and the little creature begun a little rivalry, whenever he had his arm around you that thing would try and headbutt it off.

On the plus side you had taken to dressing the little one up in ridiculous little outfits, usually to match you or Alastor, from dessert themed outfits to Alastor's signature suit.

The creature did not like being dressed the majority of the time as the little thing felt it was taken less seriously thanks to the outfits.

It was right, when the little one would strut around the hotel he was usually awe'd over by Charlie and Sir Pentious.

I'd rather take my whiskey neat

Time flew by as extermination day drew closer, preparing became the focus in the hotel, coating weapons in angelic steel, in particular you had a axe that you covered with dessert themed charms finding it funny, because imagine getting taken out with a dessert themed axe of all things!

My coffee black and my bed at three

You had just barely convinced Alastor to prepare to use an angelic weapon, borderline begging him to do so, you didn't know what you'd do if he got taken out or injured because he was too prideful and foolish to use angelic steel in some way.

You're too sweet for me

He just couldn't say no to you when you looked at him with those cartoonish eyes that reminded him of 1930's animation and surgery sweet smile!

You're too sweet for me

It was the night before extermination, everyone was ready, living this night as if they were going to die tomorrow, which they probably will but they had something to fight for! You indulged on the classic surgery sweet drink that you always got, sipping on it as Niffty declared Alastor king roach leading to you chuckling.

I take my whiskey neat

It was the time where everyone retired, laying in bed you gently brushed a hand through his awful haircut, the two of you chatted about what could happen tomorrow and what the two of you would do afterwards because obviously the two of you didn't intend on dying.

You let out a yawn, deciding to call it a night you gave Alastor a light peck before laying your head on your pillow.

My coffee black and my bed at three

Alastor channeled his inner Edward Cullen and watched you sleep, blanket curled around you, that little creature was snoozing by you, dressed in a onesie that you had obviously put on him.

He didn't say it often, or at all honesty but he adored you, the only sweet thing he would willingly indulge in.

He would do anything to protect you, you would survive the extermination, he would make sure of it.

You're too sweet for me

He, infact did not make sure of it.

It was during his little encounter with Adam, the first man had gone to attack him but you had ran in, taking the hit for Alastor.

Resulting in a large gash in your stomach, blood pooled around you as Alastor got a few hits on Adam before turning to you, clutching your body as shadows overtook the two of you, taking you to his radio tower.

You're too sweet for me

Alastor scrambled, his usual composed self gone as you were actively bleeding out, he tried to stop the bleeding but you had already lost too much.

I take my whiskey neat

He held you as he demanded to know why the hell you would jump Infront of him.

You simply smiled, lifting your hand to touch his face, you said three simple words that would be your last, the last thing you saw was Alastor's strained smile.

My coffee black and my bed at three

Husk was right, it would end one of three ways, either Alastor ended up with your soul, you became just as twisted or you died.

And many died that day, the hazbin hotel lost two of its residents, Sir Pentious and you.

Sir Pentious had died for his friends and you had died for the person you loved, sacrifices that landed the two of you into heaven.

You're too sweet for me

Alastor sat in his newly built radio tower, that damned creature that you had brought by his side.

He had managed to survive the hotel collapsing, good for him, unfortunately the person that brought him there didn't survive, and now he was stuck with Alastor, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing anymore.

You're too sweet for me

Alastor despised sweet things, they were filled with sickly sweet sugar that would leave cavities behind in it's wake, even after being brushed away it would still leave some damage like you did, you left him like you had left others before only this time it was unwillingly, you were the sweetest thing he'd ever known, he made a unfortunately decision to get attached to you and now he paid the consequences, he would be unintentionally haunted by you, reminded of you every time he saw the portrait they hung of you in the hotel along with Sir Pentious or even with the cat that looked like him.

He wouldn't be making the mistake of falling for someone again that was for sure.

It's not like he could if he wanted to anyways.

Good evening folks! I hope you enjoyed this! I wrote it all in one day, I didn't write it because I got tired but the reader is totally fighting people to go back to Alastor, just "I JUST DIED AFTER TELLING HIM I LOVED HIM, THAT IS TRAUMATIZING"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader

[cheeseceli]

Dream of you

Pairing: hwang hyunjin × Gn!reader

Genre: angst, a little of fluff, friends to ??

Prompt: "I don't want to want you, but in my dreams I seem to be more honest. And I must admit, you've been in quite a few"

Warnings: none I'm aware of, please feel free to correct me if needed!

A/n: I felt a little bit like a genius in the last paragraph ngl. Let me know what y'all think about it | join the 1K event!

Falling in love with his best friend was not what hyunjin wanted.

Sure, the friends to lovers trope was adorable in books and movies. There's something amazing about the feeling of falling for someone who you know will catch you. It must be an incredible feeling to be understood and loved in the same amount by someone who has been there with you way before any romantic feelings could develop. Then you know that the feeling is real, deeper than the skin and will last longer than a passion.

It is, indeed, an amazing feeling. However, it is way more terrifying than what fiction portrays it like.

He couldn't tell exactly when it happened, when he fell in love with you. He remembers how you got along well with his members and how his mother always asks about you. Even kkami likes you. Maybe he fell for you when he felt you were closer to his world than ever. He also remembers how some acquaintances would constantly ask for your number and how you commented about how jeongin was cute and funny once. Maybe he realised his feelings when he felt that he could lose you forever.

Either way, he felt it was wrong. He didn't want to want you. So why did he feel like he was made for you?

Lately he started to dream about you. He dreamt about how it'd feel to wake up with you and to walk side by side. Sometimes he wasn't even in the dream, the only thing he could see was you and your smile. It was like you were always on your golden hour. You couldn't seem to get out of his mind.

Those oh so romantic nights became sleepless nights after a while, with him not wanting to fall in love with you even after closing his eyes. But that didn't seem to be so smart considering he would spend those late hours on the phone with you, muffled giggles and whispers.

He didn't want to fall for you. He tried to say countless times that it meant nothing, that you were just friends. But he knows it's all lies. He's fallen for good, and the only thing he can do about it is wait for the night to come so he can see you again, be it either through the phone or with his eyes closed.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: 305

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for image 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#celi drabble #celi 1k event #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids angst #skz angst #skz scenario #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin fic #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin soft thoughts #hyunjin soft hours #hyunjin

[txraos]

Can you write relationship headcannons for mark pls.

Mark Grayson as your boyfriend, headcanons! (Gn reader) CW's : none, sfw!

He was a bit slow at first, scared to take initiative as he had little to no experience in relationships, but once he got the hang of it he became super affectionate and is always looking for ways to make you feel loved.

He pays A LOT of attention to the things that you say, if you mentioned one time certain thing that catched your attention, you will absolutely have it in your hands the next day.

Super protective!! He's always checking up on you, his number one priority will always be his family and now that includes you.

Mark would definitely sneak on your window at random times just because he misses you and can't wait to see you.

He's actually a lot more romantic than expected, random bouquet flowers just appearing in your room, handmade letters around your stuff?? who would have thought?? and where does he even get time to do that anyway??

Mark 100% loves movie dates, he prefers chill home dates where he can just relax with you.

He respects so much your boundaries and despite the fact that you two are already dating he still asks from time to time "Can i give you a hug?" "Can i kiss you?"

YOUR PERSONAL HYPE MAN!!! Mark is your #1 fan, he is always making remarks about how good you always look and how lucky he is to be dating you!

#invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson headcanons #mark grayson #invincible

[poohbea]

guys… i have aunty fever.

okay but like imagine being married to or dating sukuna, right? and the first time he introduces you to baby/toddler yuuji he becomes your best friend. never wants to leave your arms, always loves cuddles, will be your shadow while you’re doing things round the house. you’re attached at the hip from that very first moment.

and kuna both loves and hates it 😭. loves it mostly because he doesn’t have to deal with yuuji’s shenanigans all day. hates it because whenever he tries to kiss you or offer any sort of affection, yuuji comes running to put himself between you both with the grumpiest frown ever 🤣. he’ll mumble out something like “no, my aunty.” and hug your leg while trying to push his uncle away.

it’s a constant battle, especially because yuuji takes up all of kuna’s you-time 😂. watching a movie? yuuji’s there using your lap as a headrest. taking a nap? yuuji’s nestled right up against your chest. cooking in the kitchen? you’ve got yuuji perched on your hip or up in the baby wrap/baby sling. and kuna would swear up and down that yuuji — the sweet darling angel that he is — knows exactly what he’s doing. swears that he’s got some sinister plan to steal you away — he’s joking, mostly.

he should honestly be blaming himself because he’s been terrorising his nephew since he was born. his latest stunt? he found an old halloween mask that’d been sitting in the back of y’all’s closet since last year, put it on and decided to chance yuuji around the house with it.

“i’m gonna eat you!” is what you hear before a very distressed little human comes sprinting around the corner screaming, his uncle in tow. and so yuuji races to hide behind you, arms hooking between your legs for safety even as he’s still crying. but still kuna tries to reach for him and so you have to step in and unmask your monster of a man to save your hearing.

i think the other thing is how much you spoil yuuji. like cute little aunty (uncle can come too) and nephew dates. you’d he twinning with your outfits sometimes. go out to the zoo. the park. ice cream. the beach. the aquarium. sometimes kuna questions who’s child that really is — yours of his brother’s? — with how much time the two of you spend together.

it probably secretly gives him baby fever. if you’re this good with his nephew then he can only imagine how it would all go with a baby of your own.

he wants to see it one day. when you’re both ready.

#⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ pooh’s rambling again ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ #okay this was a lot longer than I thought it was gonna be #but it was stuck in my head #so i thought I’d share #🥰 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #uncle sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk spoilers #jjk fluff #drabble #fluff #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna