#thank you for this prompt it was very sweet!!!

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

#fallout #fallout amazon #if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 04. Whitney & Sebastian (Jealousy Sex)

Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader / M!Whitney Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,380 Warnings: crossover, meta, name calling, degradation, threesome, double penetration, creampie Prompt(s): 06 — jealousy sex Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: my first crossover post ever? tbh, a few of you have asked for crossovers! so im looking forward to trying to execute them well enough LOL... i've never done this before, so please be gentle... but thank you for the interesting challenge!! i enjoyed exploring this topic a lot MWAH!!

Laying in bed with you plus a stranger on your other side was never something he'd ever dreamed of, let alone allow to happen. But, tonight is a special case if there ever was one, a necessity, really. Possessively pinching at your cheek to bring your attention back to solely him for a second, a vain attempt to assert dominance over your free time. His nose wrinkles in judgement at the man behind you, dissatisfied with the turn of events of tonight as you writhe between two men, a burning in his heart urging him to speak before the other steals the spotlight; and perhaps even you, given how there's a whole other side to you he's yet to be privy to.

Which only really makes his words harsher, tongue spitting venom aimed mostly for the other man at your backside, sickeningly insidious in his intent given the faux sweet tone he adopts.

And yet needs must.

"Tell me, babe—" He cuts himself off with a moan, the feeling of your cunt walls wrapping around him even tighter as soon as he speaks leaves him a little breathless. Dirty words caught in his throat when your gaze meets his for just a second; enough for him to recognise how fucked silly you already are between two men, before your eyes roll prettily to the back of your head. Bit off more than you can chew, pretty? "Have you— fuck— have you made a decision yet?" He doesn't mean to sound so impatience, biting down on his tongue else he'll spill even more filth your way.

It's just that he's never felt you this tight before, though that might be due to the fact that you've got two cocks inside of you right now. The feeling of Whitney's rubbing against his own every time they pass each other in tandem strokes feels so fucking good; maybe only made better from the ego fuelled jealousy resting thick in his stomach for you. He's not stupid, and he knows you probably don't have the mental capacity to respond to him right now, but instinct begs him to at least try and steal you away. The weight of two fat cocks inside of your tiny little cunt must be difficult to deal with, right baby? Copious amounts of precum drooling from your abused little hole, squished cruelly between two hard bodies and used in such a selfish competition of pride.

"Isn't it fuckin' obvious." Whitney grunts behind you, prompting Sebastian to roll his eyes in annoyance. Or was it in pleasure of your cunt sucking his cock off so well at the sound of another mans voice? He'll never truly know, tongue poking out to wet his lips before they hang open in a soft gasp when you're rocked forward and more into his arms with how hard Whitney snaps his hips into you. The lack of care for your pretty self coming from the man behind you irks him, especially when you do very little to fight back against the rude touch tugging at your ass, pulling at your waist to hump the cock behind you. In fact, it looks like you like it, grabbing and scratching at Sebastian's front for some semblance of reality. Silly girl, you'll find no such thing here.

And in any case, what right does this guy have over you, really? Who is he to tell him what you, his long term girlfriend, prefers. At the very least, he understands that you'll be gone from his existence for various lengths of time, unable to see him due to 'real life', or whatever. But he'd never imagined you'd be visiting other men when he was waiting so patiently for you to return back to the valley. Isn't he enough for you? Didn't you say that Stardew Valley was your favourite place to be?

Upset not at the clear cut infidelity, but more so at the fact that you thought you could escape him simply by jumping from game to game. No, no; it's expected that you'd find others. Different men to cuddle up to, stranger guys who no doubt make you feel differently to how he does— but there's gotta be a similar thread running throughout your choices, right? Something consistent between himself and the brute behind you stuffing you so full of cock that even he himself feels like he's choking with every thrust. Holding on tight to your arm as you lay on your side before him, his other arm hooked under your neck to keep you safe and secure as you're mad to rock between two tips.

Him, comparable to Whitney? Now that's insulting.

Why you'd ever choose to date someone as characterised by their bullying as Whitney is is beyond him. The pretty pout you wear when Whitney grabs at your throat only stokes the fire in his tummy too, a thick layer of bile resting on top at the way he gets glared at by the other man with possession written all over his expression. And Sebastian only knows it as such because he worn the same look with you time and time again, determined to prove his worth to you now more than ever to hopefully keep you around for longer than whoever else you might be seeing. To bring you back to your favourite game again.

Deciding to ignore the honestly annoying man challenging his position by your side, Sebastian instead tries to appeal to your morals. Deceptively digging into your yearning for comfort that he knows you need more than anything else. It's why you're with him in the first place, right?

"I missed you so much." He nuzzles into you; or as much as he can given how violently you're bouncing between them, how fast he has to pick up his pace to match Whitney's unfair rhythm. It's making him a little dizzy, to be honest. Desire pooling in his tummy for you and the broken sobs his cock fucks out of you. The pathetic whines, almost babbles of something resembling begs that Whitney thrusts out of you. Pretty little overwhelmed baby, isn't this what you wanted when you had suggested a little test? Given his earlier argument with Whitney over who you preferred, wasn't it you who suggested some friendly competition? And now look at you, all sobs and shivers, a coo automatically rolling off his tongue when he nestles closer to you, his lips ghosting over your own in a yearning to claim you as his. "I'm here, 'm not going anywhere, baby." He promises you, disarmingly imploring you to reach out for him, his hands firm on your soft body for stability while he fucks his whole length in and out of your overstuffed cunt. Bet it's so sore, isn't it? Need a little help distracting yourself from every balls deep thrust he offers you, don't you? The sound of wet skin on skin causing his cock to tremble against Whitney's fat length inside of you, your lewd moans filling his ears with every hump of his tip against your most sensitive parts inside.

Inching closer, he plants his lips on yours. A sloppy mix of saliva, promising you that he'll come out victorious by the time he's done with you, imagining the sight of you limping into his arms instead of Whitney's so he can whisk you away back to the valley where you belong— except in doing so, he inevitable ends up stuttering his hips inside of you to the thought of punishing you for even insinuating that he might be a second place choice in your life. But is it even punishment if you'd be enjoying yourself, much like how you are now? Gasping into his open mouth, spilling moan after moan thanks to Whitney's pounding from behind. Fuck, he can even feel the way your body positively vibrates from enjoyment against him, rendered useless and unable to effectively kiss him back, tongue lolling out of your wanting mouth for him to suck on a lil. Just a little, because if he were to do anything more than that, then he's more than likely about to cream your cunt full, thinking it's just so fucking cute that you've been fucked truly stupid on two cocks.

"Pair of sluts—" Whitney laughs from behind, but Sebastian doesn't miss the undeniable crack in his counterparts voice. The hint of shakiness present only because you're so fucking tight and feel so fucking good that there's no room to do anything other than melt into you. Like some sort of horny amalgamation, sweat and sticky and heat, drool and other bodily fluids shared all in the name of rivalry. To try and win your utmost attention and affections, and to successfully pull you back into your preferred setting, favoured game, and most important love interest.

He knows what's at stake, and as such, removes himself from your lips to instead suckle on your neck— where Whitney might prefer bite marks and bruises, he's intent on leaving behind gentle love bites as his mark on you. His fingers slipping from your body from sweat, humping his trembling cock into you in short snap thrusts; just how he knows you like. And God he has no choice but to muffle a moan against your skin when Whitney favours longer strokes inside. Fast but deep, the feeling of rubbing his needy cock just as much against your plush insides as he is against Whitney's girth feels too good, immediately prompting him to dip his hand down intending on rubbing at your clit in sheer desperation not to be the first to cum, only to find Whitney already doing so— fuck he feels too good to argue back. Simply falling further into your soft body, cradling you from harms way despite how your body warms at the degradation, his chest tight at the way you mumble and moan. It's all a bit too much for him, sucking your neck for dear life, a silent plea to be crowned victorious with eager fucks into your overstuffed hole.

Maybe you prefer to be demeaned, right? Bullied into submission, his nails digging into any part of your pretty exposed body he can reach, fumbling around in a tangled heap of limbs as Whitney attempts to grab your attention too— though the latter seems to hold his composure better when it comes to your angel cunt. "Such a good slut, aren't you? C'mon, tell me how y'really feel."

But the slur in Whitney's words is enough to let Sebastian know that he isn't the only one close, not so much fucking you now as he is just trying to hold back for you. Muscles taut and jaw tight, gritting into the sticky feeling of your cunt, slick coating his length just as much as precum does, how the mixture drips down to his balls to stain the sheets below. To cum first would be sooo embarrassing, wouldn't it? Especially when he's doing his utmost to prove himself to you, to try and coax you back to the valley, and not whatever universe Whitney is from. It's where you belong, at the end of his leaking tip every night for him to bully into you over and over again, even if right now he can do no such thing— unlatching from your neck just to spill sweet praises for you, and to hopefully disallow you from answering Whitney's burning question. Deep down he knows you're gonna say his name anyway, or at least hopes is the case, the way your glassy eyes haze over his almost pained features, drool dripping from your tongue every time he presses his cock inside. You wear the fucked out expression so well, pretty baby getting fucked by two big cocks, is it more than you can handle?

It's okay, because from the way your body shakes under his fingertips, the tell tale tremble inside your pretty little angel cunt, how your voice almost goes missing in your silent gasps for more— he knows that you're close too. And, frustratingly, Whitney can gather about just as much also— how long have you been seeing him? "Already?" Whitney sneers, unsure of who it's more aimed at, but Sebastian hasn't the strength to fight back. Not for himself, and certainly not for you. Too lost in the way your cunt practically begs him for more, his hips instinctively fucking into you as if it were his only purpose in life. Messy and clumsy humps fill you up, almost as if he were getting fucked by Whitney alongside you, but fuck he can't help it. The weight of your body pressed tight against his own as Whitney takes a more dominating stance, effectively fastening Sebastian under you as you get mounted from behind is intoxicating, your puffy clit surely rubbing nicely against his groin from the new position and—

Well, he's got no hope of holding back when he feels your full little hole spasm around him. Orgasm washing over you as you fall into his chest, moaning directly down his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. Sebastian too holds onto you, arms wrapped around the small of your back, pressing you down onto his cock for him to offer you merger little fucks up and into your heat. And fuck it feels so good, fat load shooting against your deepest parts, turning his cock all sticky as it gushes around inside, against Whitney's cock, and gets pushed out of your cute cunt with every extra thrust. He barely gets a chance to calm down providing Whitney's uncharacteristically kind slower pace, letting you ride out your high just enough before the brutality begins again.

"Well, what d'ya think, slut? Got a favourite yet?" Whitney seethes, clearly holding on to the last remainder of stability he's got as you wail out in hyper sensitivity.

Maybe if Sebastian holds you close to him and whispers sweet nothings down your ear to help settle you back into the unfair fucking you'll favour him. It's the least he could do, seeing as he finished first anyway. Anything to get you back to the valley, and spending time in his world again.

#500 event! #dol #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #dol smut #dol fanfic #sdv sebastian smut #sdv sebastian fanfic #whitney the bully smut #whitney the bully #i forgot other tags oopsie

[magnusbae]

Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗

The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖

+++

Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖

▾▾▾

"Can you stay with me?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…

It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.

Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.

It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…

There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.

For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.

Not when it means losing him. Not then.

Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.

Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him. 

Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.

Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.

“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?

Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.

“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.

“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.

“I will always—”  His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his— 

“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…” 

Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along. 

Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.

Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so… 

“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.  

“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.

Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.

If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have. 

His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was? 

Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan. 

The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.

Obi-wan is not a better man. 

Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain. 

“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over. 

Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist. 

“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember. 

Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.

They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess. 

“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze. 

The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected. 

Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….

Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.

“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised. 

What did Anakin just say? Imply?

Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like. 

Yes, but not while he is drunk.

Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.

His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former. 

Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.

It had never happen again. 

“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down. 

“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time. 

He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—

“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried. 

Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor. 

All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.

He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—

“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond.  He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly. 

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years. 

Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.

“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-” 

Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips… 

The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.

Not good. Beyond not good. He should…. 

The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.

He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness. 

“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet… 

He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.

He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—

“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.

“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.

“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and… 

“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.

Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.

“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night…. 

His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows. 

“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes  just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan. 

“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…

“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.

It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him. 

Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good…. 

He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.

So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving. 

Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too. 

There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was revolving all along, but their shared….

#I realize that the smarted thing would be to revisit this one once I slept off this fever and actually give it a proper revision however-- #the force demands I post it here and now. #obikin #obikin fic #star wars #star wars fic #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #anakin #obi wan #sw fic #buns.w #buns.all #anonynous #msg #prompt filled #me:i'll do quick drabbles for those prompts #also me: so here's a thing i nearly fainted over because i forgot what drink and food was #i hope you enjoy this~ I didn't write Obi-Wan POV in a whiiiiilllleee I wanted it to be a push and pull of conflicting emotions and needs #Fair warning as mentioned before... I rewrote it almost completely from 2k to 4k without actually editing over the rewritten one #there might be some hefty mistakes there so you know ggs

[mimisempai]

Our invisible scars

Summary

Aziraphale and Crowley have no visible scars, but the ones you can't see are the ones that hurt the most. Fortunately, each is the other's healing balm.

Notes

50 Types of Kisses - Writing Prompts - Complete!!!

Last kiss: A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1327 words

When Crowley entered the bookshop, he immediately sensed from the quality of the silence that something was wrong.

He called softly, "Angel?"

"I'm here." 

Aziraphale's voice came from further inside the bookshop, so the demon stepped forward and was astonished to find the angel sitting on the sofa, elbows on knees, head in hands.

Though the sofa now often welcomed both of them, it was almost common knowledge that it was the place of Crowley and the armchair belonged to Aziraphale.

Now absolutely certain that something was wrong with his angel, the demon came to sit beside him and asked softly, "What's wrong, Angel?"

The angel straightened up and replied quietly, "Nothing serious. I just had a little talk with Muriel about scars."

Crowley, confused at first, asked, "Scar?" then grabbed the Angel's hand and continued, now worried, "Did you hurt yourself? You have a wound I don't know about? But how? What happened?"

Aziraphale smiled faintly before replying, "Don't worry, I've got nothing.  After all, we don't mark, we're angels and demons. In fact, this was the subject of our discussion with Muriel: they had trouble understanding the concept of having a scar, the human concept. And so, as I explained it to them, I realized that you and I have our share of scars, even if they aren't visible."

The angel's expression darkened as he added, "Even if they aren't, the memory of the injury is very present and is like a visible scar, the reminder of the wound that was here. Not completely healed."

It was then that the demon understood what the angel meant and nodded before gently taking his lover's hand and waiting for him to continue. 

Aziraphale intertwined his fingers with the his lover's before resuming, "Talking to Muriel made me realize how much Heaven had scarred us, all of us. And I couldn't help but think that you probably had the biggest scar of them all, and especially that I had contributed to rubbing salt into it for many years."

Crowley understood absolutely nothing of what the angel had just said and looked at him in complete confusion as he said, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The angel squeezed the demon's hand and explained, "You were cast out of heaven. You went from being an angel to being a demon, and every time you told me about something you'd done, I told you it was normal because it was your nature, because you were a demon, while all I did was reopen the wound, over and over again, without allowing it to close. I'm sor-"

Aziraphale was unable to continue because Crowley had swiftly removed his hand from his and had just grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him firmly before saying in an almost harsh tone, "You're torturing yourself for this? Angel, if you only knew, it's been so long since that scar healed. And it's thanks to you. Your trust when I was supposed to be your enemy, your acceptance of who I was when we met again. Do you think I really took it to heart every time you told me that it was in my nature as a demon? No, because despite your words, I knew we were on the same side, that you had my back as much as I had yours. In fact, I think you've got it all wrong. The one with the most scars, or the deepest scars left by Heaven, is you, Angel."

"Crowley, it's not true, I didn't--"

The demon shook his head to stop him and replied, "Don't tell me it's not true."

He placed his hand gently on the angel's chest and said more softly, "This here, this sweet heart, has endured the bullying of Heaven for more years than it takes to say it. You've endured belittlement, condescension, scorn far more often than I have, and by your own. From those who were supposed to be on your side, more than from me, who was supposed to be your enemy. I don't care if they say I'm a demon, that it's in my nature to do evil. I know who I am. As long as I have your trust and love, the rest doesn't matter. You forced yourself to do what they wanted, even when it seemed unfair, and when you dared to think outside the box, they just tried to put you back in it. All of this was like a wound that never had time to heal, reopening over and over for thousands of years."

The demon watched the angel swallow several times before he let out a long sigh. Then Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley's still on his chest and said in a voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "But it healed. Thanks to you."

The demon shook his head, but the angel continued insistently, "You healed it and you continue to heal it, Crowley, with every little word of praise, every kind word buried under a layer of humor, every time you encouraged me to just be outside the box. For 10,000 little wounds inflicted by Heaven, you, your presence, every time, was the saving balm that took the sting out of it all. So no matter how much I suffered, I knew you would ease the pain."

The angel raised the demon's hand to his lips to press a long kiss to the palm. But as he moved to release it, Crowley slid his hand to the back of the Angel's neck and pulled his face closer to his own, crushing his lips against the angel's. 

The kiss, tender at first, soon became fierce, each clutching the other's face as if each were the other's lifeline.

Then, little by little, the frenzy of the kiss gave way to something gentler, and Crowley's hands slid from the angel's neck to his shoulders before gently pushing him back until the angel had no choice but to lie back on the sofa. Crowley, for his part, moved so that he was lying on top of Aziraphale, both elbows framing the face lit by a small, trembling smile.

The demon, visibly moved, pressed a light kiss to the angel's lips and said softly, "All these scars, I wish I could kiss them away one by one.

His gaze was caught by a tear rolling down the angel's cheek, and he wiped it away with his lips, beginning a trail of kisses that spread along the cheek to the angel's jaw before following the curve down to the hollow of his neck.

Once there, the demon straightened and placed his hands on the first button of the angel's shirt, looking him straight in the eye. 

Aziraphale, understanding the silent question, simply nodded.

Crowley smiled gently at him before opening his shirt, button by button. He didn't undo all the buttons, just enough to expose the angel's chest. 

Then the demon leaned forward and said softly, "I wish I could kiss it better," then closed the distance between his lips and the bare chest and planted a long kiss on it.  

He let the kiss linger until he felt Aziraphale's hands rest on his head and the angel forced him to lift it, saying softly, "That's what you do, you kiss it better, and that's long before you put your lips here."

Aziraphale ran his thumb over the demon's lips before pulling him up and saying softly, "Come here."

He drew Crowley's face to his and planted a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping his arms around his lover to hold him close. The demon buried his face in the angel's neck and slid his hand between their pressed bodies, right where he'd kissed him on the chest. On his wounded heart. Between their wounded hearts.

They stayed like that for a long time, in an embrace that did more than words to soothe the scars the past had left in their hearts.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable kisses series : here

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

Ineffable Growing Love - Series post S2

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #50 kisses

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Longing

@jegulus-microfic April 28, Word count 497

Previous part First part

The Common room was blessedly quiet. The fire long burnt down to embers, and the giant squid only gently tapped on the glass at the other end. 

Regulus moved as quietly as he could down the boy's staircase. He silently changed into his bedclothes and slipped beneath the emerald sheets. He cast a silencing charm around his bed, muffling the quiet gasps he emitted as he fumbled under the sheets, his mind full of James and the way James’s body had felt pressed against his. He fell asleep quickly after he finished and had the most pleasant night's sleep he'd ever had. Sweet dreams of James, just holding him left a smile on his lips as he snuggled further into his warm bed. 

“What do you think, Evan? A curse of some sort? Or has he fallen on his head?” Barty asked over breakfast when he spotted Regulus’s dreamy look. Regulus instantly snapped out of his thoughts and glowered at Barty. 

“I am perfectly fine, thank you very much.” He’d have to keep a better check on what his face was doing in the future. He let his usual scowling mask settle on his face and continued with his breakfast, blocking out Barty's inane questions. 

His eyes flickered over to the Gryffindor table to James’s usual seat, and he was not disappointed. The Gryffindor’s eyes flicked up to meet him, and a beaming smile spread across his face, but before Regulus could answer it, Sirius had jabbed James in the ribs, and he stopped, looking away quickly. Sirius caught Regulus’s eye and narrowed his own, a warning.

Regulus struggled to concentrate on his lessons that morning. He’d never felt like this before. A strange longing to see James coursed through him, leaving him aching. James had planted something inside him, something he’d never dared to dream of. Hope. Hope of a better life for himself. 

Regulus had long ago come to terms with the life his parents had planned for him, married off to a pureblood girl once he left school. One of a higher ranking now that Sirius was no longer heir. Be branded by the Dark Lord and produce more Black family heirs, a respectable life for a pureblood Black male. 

But James made all that disappear. It was ridiculous. They’d kissed for the first time last night. Just because some stupid potion said that he was attracted to the way James smelt, but when he thought of James, he saw rolling fields behind a thatched cottage and a simple and easy life where the only expectation of him was to pick what to do for dinner. It was a beautiful dream and one he knew his parents would never allow. 

He’d been so wrapped up in the dream he didn’t notice the hand flash out from behind the tapestry. He yelped as he was pulled sideways behind it but settled when he saw that beaming smile, and finally, he was able to return it.  

Next part

#april 28 #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus fluff #regulus black #james potter #dead gay wizards #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #sirius black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #james x regulus #regulus x james #james potter x regulus black #regulus and james #james and regulus #if only #regulus wants that dream so bad #thanks the gods for sliencing charms #longing

[vodika-vibes]

hiiii, so i was deep down the rabbit hole a couple days ago and i saw a post of yours talking about which of the clones would mesh well with an ace reader. the two i remember were tup and alpha-17. i was wondering if you could write something where reader is kinda hesitant to tell their new partner because the troopers are kinda intense but they’re super reassuring and it’s very fluffy.

Confession

Summary: You’ve recently started dating Tup, and you know you need to have a conversation with him. You’re just a little anxious about it.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x Reader

Word Count: 1030

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wasn't sure if you wanted short little drabbles for both Alpha and Tup, or a longer fic with one or the other, so I decided to go with a longer fic with Tup. I hope you don't mind. Also, I hope this is soft and fluffy like you wanted!

“So this is where you live?” Tup asks as he peers around your apartment, taking in the family photos of you with your parents and siblings, the variety of random paintings that you’ve acquired over the years, and the old and unmatched furniture that gives your home a kind of eclectic vibe.

You like it, though you know that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea.

“Yeah,” You say with a nervous smile, “This is me. I’m the youngest in my family, so when I moved out my siblings and parents and grandparents dumped all of their old furniture on me-”

“I like it. It suits you.” Tup interrupts with a grin.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant to be one, don’t worry.” Tup wanders over to the corner, where there’s a basket full of toddler toys, “You babysit a lot?”

“My older brother works a lot, and since his wife walked out on them-” You shrug and stoop to grab a stuffed tooka that didn’t make its way into the toybox after the last time you watched the twins, “I offered to help every so often. Mom had a doctors appointment last week, so I got the twins for a couple of hours.”

“It’s nice that you’re willing to help your family.” Tup replies easily.

You shrug awkwardly, “Well, he’s my brother. And the twins are pretty cool, you know, for toddlers.”

He laughs softly, and favors you with a smile that’s so warm and soft that you feel momentarily guilty for what you’re about to say to him. And then you’re annoyed at yourself for feeling guilty.

“You said that there’s something that you needed to tell me?” Tup prompts as he kneels down to pick up some more toys that had fallen out of the chest. “Do you need to reschedule our date for this weekend to watch the twins?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” You reassure, “I’m looking forward to our date this weekend. But there’s something you need to know about me before we do that. And I probably should have told you before hand but-” You trail off with a shrug, “I was worried that you’d run off.”

Tup stares at you, “Alright,” He says slowly, “You have my attention.”

You press your fingers together, and take a deep breath. “I’m asexual.” You blurt out, rather than spewing into the speech that you prepared and obsessed over for the last several days.

Tup blinks at you.

“Um, so, that means that I don’t really feel-”

“I know what it means, cyare.” Tup interrupts gently, absolutely no heat in his voice, and when you chance a glance at him, he’s still watching you with that soft and sweet expression on his face.

“Oh. Right. Of course.”

Tup stands and walks over to you, “Am I allowed to touch you, cyare?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He smiles and his hand comes up to press against your cheek, his calloused fingers rough against your skin, though there was something almost soothing about it too. “Thank you for telling me.” Tup says quietly.

“Yeah, well...it is an important thing for you to know.” You reply.

“It is.” He agrees, “We’ll have to sit down and talk about what hard limits you have at some point-”

“Wait! You’re not breaking up with me?” You blurt.

“...do you want me to?” Tup asks, bewildered.

“No! Of course not! I just...I...normally people-” You trail off, unable to finish your statement, “It’s either a hard breaking point or they think that I’m broken.” You finish lamely, and more than a little bitterly.

“Right...so. First off, I’m a full grown man and I’m more than capable of taking care of my needs on my own,” Tup says dryly, “Second of all, you’re not broken. That’s a disgusting way for anyone to talk about you. It’s not like you picked your sexuality.”

You laugh softly, “You’d be surprised at how often people think differently.”

“Well, I don’t. I’m not going to break up with you over something so easily navigated.” Tup says, “I’m not going to break up with you unless you want to break up. So, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“I’m glad for it.” You admit quietly.

Tup lightly tugs you into a hug, his arms tight and comforting around you. “I have an idea.”

“Hm?”

“Since I’m already here, how about we have a date night?”

You shift your head on his shoulder to look at him curiously, “Date night?”

“Mm, we can order in and watch a holo.” Tup offers temptingly.

“That does sound very enjoyable,” You murmur thoughtfully, “There’s a place near here that’s really good.”

“I’m filled with good ideas,” Tup brags with a small grin.

“Hm, is that right? Would your brothers agree if I asked them?” You tease.

“No, but that’s because they have horrible taste.” Tup replies.

“Do they?”

“Yep. Have you seen some of their tattoos?”

“Tup...you have a teardrop tattooed on your face.”

“And I look amazing, yes, I know.”

You press your face against his shoulder and dissolve into giggles, “I’m going to go get my datapad so we can order food, you absolutely ridiculous man.”

He grins at you and presses a light kiss to your forehead, “Feeling better, cyare?”

You grin right back at him, “I do. I don’t know why I was so nervous.”

“Because I’m intimidating.” Tup says solemnly, though there’s laughter written on his face.

“Oh, naturally.” You press a quick kiss to his cheek, “If you’re not careful, I’m going to fall in love with you, Tup.”

“Oh good, my evil plan is working.”

You dissolve into laughter again, “If you keep this up I’m not going to be able to order us dinner.” You warn.

“Well, we can’t have that.” Tup cups your face with both of his hands, “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d like that,”

His leans in and brushes his lips across your lips in a ghost of a kiss, and then he laughs into the kiss as you pull him down into a proper kiss. “Impatient.” He chides.

“Yes, I am.”

#star wars #tcw #clone trooper tup x reader #tup x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Are you still taking prompts for the sleepy time ask game? Can you do 17 & 40 for Curtis & Honey??

Thank you so much for sending this ask, I am so sorry its late babes. I hope you like this little drabble.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You were close to finishing, your pen tapping against your cheek as you glanced at the old clock ticking away in Curtis's kitchen. Twelve A.M.

Curtis had gone to bed a couple hours ago, saying that he was absolutely beat and needed to sleep before his shift tomorrow. With an affectionate kiss to your jawline while you muttered that you would be up soon.

Soon never came and your essays were still piled up, needing to graded. Your kids worked so hard on them and you had assured them that they would be ready by the end of the week. End of the week was almost here and you weren't even half way through them.

Your head dropped to the table, letting your eyes close. "Just five minutes." You mutter to yourself.

"Honey?"Curtis's deep voice cut into your five minutes, making you blink with a sleepy groan. "Baby, you're done for tonight. Come on up." His hand swept over your shoulder while rubbing against the back of your neck.

"Can't." You say around a yawn while pushing back up to a sit, gasping to yourself when you saw that you drooled on the table, very quickly wiping at your mouth.

"Can't? Honey it's two in the morning and you gotta be out of here by seven." His hand felt good massaging the back of your neck that you relaxed into it with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Got these. too much, end of the week." Sentences were too hard to form right now. Curtis chuckled above you, his hand moving to cup your chin and tilt you to look up at him.

“You’re so cute when you’re tired and speaking in half-sentences Honey." You gave a little dreamy smile up at him, your eyes fluttering closed. He felt good, like you would sink into him.

"Cute enough to continue what I gotta do?"

"No." He said a bit sternly and that made you give a bit of a pout.

"But I-"

“I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep.” Curtis rumbled out.

"You wouldn't." As soon as the words spilled out, his blue eyes flashed at the challenge and he moved like he was gonna, making you squeal out quickly. "Im coming! Right now." You went to gather everything and he caught your hands, tugging you out of the chair and into his arms.

Yeah, that felt good. You let yourself sink in against his chest with a hum of relent. "That can wait Honey, come on."

You fell asleep as soon as Curtis had you spooned in bed. The next morning, your alarm jarred you awake, seeing that Curtis had already left.

Making your way downstairs for coffee, bypassing the kitchen table, your scattered mess was now all neatly organized, everything in place and your huge pile, half the size as Curtis had worked on grading a few for you.

A note was left on top of the nearly finished pile-

Honey, I will help you finish these tonight. Between the two of us, we can have them ready for you Friday. But Friday night, you're mine Pretty Girl. Love you ~ Curtis

#amber answers #life is short so make it sweet #curtis and honey #sleepy time prompts #ask games #sorry this is so late #lamber writes #sweater writes

[mercurygray]

Hiiii Merc 💜

Everything ok? Hope you're feeling better!

I saw your prompt list and I just couldn't resist... How would you feel about either nr 72 (mischief managed) or nr 74 (are you challenging me?)

For, you guessed it, my girl Fred? (I have to stay loyal to my girl)

If not, no worries 💜

Thank you 😍

- your Fred Friend

The three of them definitely looked like trouble.

Fred looked up from the table she was wiping down to see Ken Lemmons at the door of the Aero Club, his two smallest assistants in tow.

"Morning, Fred," Ken said with a smile. "Mind if we come in?"

"Oh, I'm not sure I can let these two hooligans in here," Fred added with pretend seriousness, looking down at Billy and Sammy, who was carrying a cardboard box. "Since they're not actually members of the US Armed Forces."

"Not even if we brought you a present?" Sammy asked, gesturing with the box he was holding.

"Billy and Sammy found something out at the hardstand and thought you'd like to have it," Ken explained. "I thought it'd be better if they brought it to ya in person."

Fred pretended to consider it, keeping in mind that all three of them, including Ken, looked like they were up to something. It was not outside the realm of possibility for the contents of the box to be a live frog - or a cow pie. "Well, I do like presents. Depends if it's a good one."

"We brought you a spark plug!" Billy said with a grin, obviously very pleased with his joke.

Fred's eyebrows went clear up into her hair, trying not to appear uncharitable. (Six year old boys were a tough bunch when you didn't like their jokes.) "Oh, well then. Can't say I've gotten one of those recently. Where is it?" But just as she said that, the box in Sammy's arms meowed, and one tiny black paw batted its way out of the lid. A spark plug, huh? Fred carefully opened up the box, trying not to get swiped, and came face to face with a tiny scrap of a black kitten, eyes peering querulously up from the cardboard. It yowled inquisitively and tried to stand up on its back legs to get out, not quite strong enough to make the jump yet.

"Goodness me. Where on earth did you find him?"

Sammy spoke up immediately. "We were helping Ken with the engine and he needed a spanner -"

"A wrench," Billy corrected over his friend, looking at Ken for confirmation that he'd used the right word. Ken nodded, but Sammy had kept right on going.

"-And there was a noise in the boxes of spare parts! So we named him Spark Plug!"

"He scratched me," Billy added, showing the still-red scratch on his good hand. "But I don't think he meant it."

"I think he might have gotten away from his mother and crawled in where it was warm," Ken offered, by way of actual context. "Needs a little bit of looking after, but I thought he might help with your mice."

Helen came round the corner with the bookkeeping ledgers, heading for the back office from the supply room. "What's this? Presents for Fred and not for me?"

"I think he's for all of us, Helen." Fred collected the box from Sammy and tipped it to show Helen. The kitten batted at the box again. "This is Spark Plug."

"Oh, goodness, isn't he a darling," Helen said, reaching in with one finger to pet his small velvet head. "Hello, you. Are you hungry, precious? Did those boys give you a silly name?"

"Can we help feed him?" Billy asked, obviously with an eye to the main chance of getting into the kitchen and closer to whatever today's treats were likely to bed.

"Before we do anything he's going to go outside and get a bath, and while we're doing that you're going to go with Ken to the ammunition depot and find us a tray of sand," Helen announced. "He needs a place to do his business. If we're going to start with cats I want them to know what the expectations are."

"Well, come on, you heard Miss Helen," Ken said, a hand on both their small shoulders. "Let's go find some sand."

Their mischief now mostly managed, the two boys took off at a run towards Ken's Jeep, their handler taking his sweet time behind them so he could drive over to the depot. Trouble, Fred repeated to herself with a grin, still holding the box. Inside, Spark Plug made another swipe at the cardboard. "Are we keeping you out of trouble or getting you into it, buddy?"

The cat only yowled again, and Fred, for her part, agreed.

#asked and answered #Anonymous #i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #tds cinematic universe #masters of the air OC #masters of the air x oc #freda torvaldsen

[madi-writes-things]

Nobody Pt. 4

(C.Sturniolo X Reader)

Summary:

Chris and Y/N never seemed to get along, but sometimes help comes from the most unexpected places

Word Count: 1,332

TW: Cursing, SH (not in detail, but it is talked about), fluff, PDA, fake dating chaos, mention of cramps and throwing up because of the pain, bad sex joke, use of emojis (I have no clue how else to explain the exact reactions other than the emojis), drinking/being drunk (I’ve never been drunk, so forgive me if my portrayal is off), Not Edited

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, I’ve literally been locked in my room for two weeks with no motivation. I really hope that y’all like this chapter. I’m also hoping to work on some other stuff coming up soon. 😁

-Madi <3

“”“”“”“”“”

Y/N’s POV

Nick and Matt stood at the island as me and Chris walked into the kitchen. I caught Nick’s eye as I set down enough food to feed a small militia. He just stares.

Matt hits him in the shoulder, prompting him to give him a dirty look before speaking. “I’m sorry…” He looked like he wasn’t sure what all he needed to apologize for. “I’m sorry that I punched you” he nodded toward Chris. “I’m sorry that I made you cry, I feel really bad about that.” He averts his eyes, and I think I see a small glint of shame.

I physically can’t stay mad at him, and I make it very obvious when I envelop him into a rib crushing hug. He whispers a small thank you in my ear before I walk back to the other side of the island to unpack the food. As I start unpacking breakfast I feel arms wrap around my waist, and a chin resting on my shoulder.

I freeze up, and Chris mumbles a quick “is this okay?” Into my hair. I look around realizing that Matt and Nick don’t even notice, much too invested in their food to care. I nod my head, trying to will the rosy shade to leave my face.

I’m failing miserably.

after breakfast me and Chris went upstairs to watch a movie in his room. Matt was quick to respond in the worst way possible.

“Sock that wang before you bang… and please be quiet, I don’t want to hear my brother doin it”

Y/N: 😨

Chris: 😮

Nick: 😟

Matt: 😁

needless to say, me and Matt practically teleported upstairs and away from that mortifying experience. Me and Chris enter his room in a fit of laughter, practically collapsing onto the bed.

After a second I noticed that Chris had stopped laughing… his laughter is addictive, and I already missed it. I turned to see him staring at me with a look in his blue eyes that I couldn’t quite grasp. He looked happy and sad and something else all at once.

“What?” I giggled as I said it, still thinking about what Matt said only a few minutes earlier.

“are you doing okay?” This question again… I never know what to say when people ask me that. Right now I’m doing great… but in 30 minutes, or a week, or even a month I might break down again.

that’s never the answer that people want. They want something simple, yes or no. He stares at me patiently waiting for my response, it makes me feel bad for not having one.

“I’m okay right now…” he gives me a quick nod before speaking again.

“Okay, will you tell me when you aren’t doing good?” Why is he offering this, he doesn’t want to deal with me. “You need a safe space, and you clearly aren’t going to tell Nick. Let me be your safe space.”

“okay”

With that we got comfy on his bed and found a movie.

“”“”“”“”“”

things carried on like this for months.

doing good.

going down.

running to Chris.

repeat.

he was always so sweet and caring. He would hold me while I cried Myself to sleep, he would walk me home early from an event if I wanted to leave, he would hold my hair back and get me a heating pad when my cramps got bad… no matter what, he was there. He had also started being more touchy in public, leaning into the fake relationship for those around us. It made me feel things that I tried to avoid for years.

I think I hate him… how DARE he make me fall in love with him, knowing that none of this is real. How dare he kiss me at parties, and hold me during movie nights, and make me feel safe when none of it is real for him.

“you okay baby?” He snaps me out of my thoughts with the use of his new favorite nickname for me. I melt when he calls me his baby, unfortunately a small part of me also dies inside every time I hear it.

“yeah, just a little tired.” We’ve been at this party for like three hours, and I haven’t even touched my drink. When Chris is tipsy he get more brave with his PDA, I don’t want to risk forgetting a single moment where he is touching me.

“do you want to walk home?” He doesn’t want to leave, he shouldn’t have to leave because I’m sad that he doesn’t love me.

“no. we should stay, you’re having fun. I’m actually going to go get a drink, maybe it will make me feel better.” He looks at me for a second before letting go of my hip, allowing me to grab a drink.

“”“”“”“”“”

How did I get here?

It’s like one second I was listening to Chris tell a story, and now I’m dancing to some annoying pop song. I need to find Chris, I definitely had a few too many drinks.

I stumbled around for a minute, everything is spinning and making me want to throw up. I don’t know if I can walk all the way home, but I don’t want to make all of them leave early. I grab my phone in an attempt to call Chris, but by the time he picks up I’ve forgotten what I was doing.

“”“”“”“”“”

Chris’s POV

I look down at my phone to see that Y/N is calling me, and it makes me a little worried. I pick the phone up to my ear, trying to head over the sounds of music and talking. I don’t hear her, only making me more worried.

She almost never drinks, because she has a very low tolerance. Last time I saw her, she was already three drinks in and proclaiming her love for the song that was on.

That was an hour ago.

I quickly scour the crowd in an attempt to find her face. And when I do my heart drops.

There she is in her skin tight jeans and corset top, looking lost with tears in her eyes. I rush to her side, immediately pulling the drink from her hand. She looks like she’s about to start crying.

“hey baby, can you look at me please?” When I say that she starts crying and she doesn’t seem like she’s stopping any time soon. “Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to find somewhere quiet so that you can sit down for a minute?” She nods her head aggressively before stumbling towards the bedroom of whoever is hosting.

The Golden Trio

From: Chris

can y’all meet me in the master bedroom, Y/N is really drunk and needs to go home.

From: Nicky Bo Bicky

for sure, I’ll bring some water for her.

I turned to Y/N, she looked out of it. Then all of a sudden life came back to her eyes in the worst way possible. She almost fell down in her attempt to get to the bathroom.

“it’s okay baby” I whispered sweet nothings to her as I held her hair and rubbed her back. Nick and Matt showed up shortly after she finished dry heaving, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her drink anything as fast as she drank that water.

If I thought it was a hassle trying to get her in the car, I had no clue how hard it would be to get her up a flight of stairs. She giggled as I picked her up bridal style… it made me so happy to hear her laughing.

once she got into more comfortable clothes, she fell asleep in no time.

as she held onto me and nuzzled into my side, my heart shattered. All I want is for her to be happy, but I know that I can’t fix everything. I kiss her on the forehead before rolling over and going to sleep.

“”“”“”“”“”

@unbruisable @bernardsbendystraws @sturniolo-fann

#madi writes things #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x reader

[what-the-fic-khr]

Hello I hope this ask finds you well! Happy to see the tea prompts again bc they’re so so so cute 🫖🥹

I have a fewww ideas.. bc I just love everything about your writing and I’m curious about your take on rooibos tea w/ Squalo orrr earl grey w/ Hibari (I absolutely adore the way you characterize himshdnshdjdh)

If neither of those suit your fancy, matcha tea with any character that comes to mind for ya? I’m excited to see your posts floating around again and know I’ll continue to love anything you pen for us🫧🤍

waaaaah thank you so much for your kind words, I appreciate it so greatly!!! I chose to do both because I’m in the mood to, and I’m so thankful for the support! I hope these are to your liking!

character/s: superbi squalo, hibari kyoya, reader-insert (gender-neutral)

word count: —

warnings: huh. nothing for once

prompt: tea prompts (rooibos tea, earl grey tea)

rooibos tea; what’s their favourite thing to do with their s/o?

Squalo’s either a huge fan of resting or hates it entirely. for the sake of this, it’s not resting per se, but… he likes to relax with you, very specifically. even if he’s working; being able to actually relax is rare, and nice. watch for if he removes his sword with you around; he likes to do maintenance on it with you around because it’s not stressful, not work, and with you. it’s a sign of comfort and vulnerability

You were complaining about something, rolling around on the floor beside him as you went on and on. He didn’t care much about all the movement; you maintained a good distance so you wouldn’t knock into him.

“Besides, it was stupid to begin with and if they’d listened to me in the first place it wouldn’t have happened at all!”

“Mhm.”

You glanced over at Squalo, stretching your arms out to rest your head on. He glanced up at your silence, and his shoulders slumped. This didn’t stop him from polishing his blade, the action repetitive, calming, like habit.

“What?”

He huffed when you smiled in that silly, dreamy way you did when you were enamoured with something. It still had to take some getting used to, seeing it directed at him.

“Nothin’. You look so nice and relaxed for once. Boss is gonna kick that out a window once you’re done.”

He grumbled something under his breath at this. It wouldn’t last very long, but still. He felt relaxed, for once. The soothing motions of sharpening and polishing his sword was a comfort to him. You rolling around on the floor like a kid was a comfort to him.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere for at least another half hour.” Your eyes started to light up at this, and he almost laughed at the way you started kicking your feet back and forth in the air. “You’re stuck with me until then.”

“Favourite thing to be stuck with.”

early grey tea; how did they court their s/o?

if he’s an adult, he’d be… a bit more normal lol. I think he’d be very careful while getting to know you, but he’d like to show you how strong and reliable he is. y’know, adult in the mafia kind of stuff. younger though, he’d be a lot more… of a loser about it. he’d want to make sure you can also look after yourself in the future with him! so he’d stick to you like glue at school, be suuuuper annoying and stuff. fight, probably.

“Can’t you go easy on me or something at least?!”

“Doing that won’t keep you alive in a real fight, will it?”

You made a loud noise of complaint, but you still got back onto your feet to return to your original position. Kyoya gripped his tonfa a little tighter, nodding to himself.

If you could not even get up and keep training, there would be no point in trying.

There was potential in you he knew was there, and he’d be damned if the one he’d grown attached to would get killed because you didn’t try to get stronger. It only made sense to him that the one who put you through this was him and no one else. No one else would take it seriously.

“Get ready, then.”

You whined, but steeled your shoulders. Your gaze on him sharpened, eyes narrowing, and he felt his lips twitch up into a smirk.

Exactly the spark he wanted to see.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #mine #superbi squalo #hibari kyoya #s #18 #requests #tea prompts #khr imagines #katekyo hitman reborn imagines #khr x reader #katekyo hitman reborn x reader #AHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH YOURE SO SWEET #felt very inspired to do both so!! #I think Squalo is so….. so wonderful #also chose present!kyoya bc that was the prompt I thought of #I think he’d love to teach you to fight bc you Also have to be strong. like him #and thus you form a stronger and closer bond while doing so #all according to keikaku #etc etc y’know?? lol #short but sweet #thank you!!! #ALSO YES IM CURRENTLY TAKING TEA PROMPTS PLS SEND SOME

[tracybirds]

Another of the 30 Gentle Prompts fills :) So much fun! This is for @knyee who asked for 7 + Gordon. Thank you!

7. "Can I do your hair?"

The hospital wasn’t a new place, not when his family excelled at pushing the limits and breaking bones. Gordon was huddled in the little waiting room, jokingly called the Tracy Suite by the nurses for all the times they’d gathered there, holding out for news for someone or another.

Today it was Alan, a BMX trick gone wrong, with a broken arm and under observation for Gordon didn’t know what.

A hand gently laid on top of his, stilling its motion, and he started away.

“You’re tapping again,” said Virgil softly.

“Sorry, sorry,” said Gordon, pulling his sleeves down, over his twitching fingers.

His knee began to shake, the agitating, rhythmic tap he was trying –truly, really trying– to bring to an end filling the room.

“Gordon, go for a walk,” said Scott in exasperation.

He couldn’t do that either.

He couldn’t recall when the local hospital had grown to loom over him, the smell of antiseptic enough to make him want to crawl out of his skin.

Well, that wasn’t quite true.

He knew.

He’d never been back to that military hospital, but still it found him here in a hospital from a small, landlocked state a thousand miles from any ocean.

A muscle spasmed in his jaw as he held himself still, so intent on not moving, he hardly noticed the movement as someone slipped in the seat next to him.

“Hey, Gordon,” said Kayo.

He blinked, jerking his head around with a questioning look. She held her comm in her hand, the light of a paused holovid shining between them.

She offered him the comm and a half-smile. “Braid my hair for me?”

Gordon took the comm without a word and, with its guidance, began to section her hair, methodically moving over and under. It took time to find the necessary rhythm, but Kayo didn’t complain no matter how often he dropped pieces of her hair or tugged too tightly. When he finally reached the end, she took back the comm, scrolling through to another vid.

“I changed my mind, try this one.”

He knew what she was doing.

But the movement helped, and it was a compromise he could work with, over and over until a nurse walked in with his grandmother and the family all looked up, all hope and expectation.

“Alan’s fine, he’s doing well,” said Grandma Tracy with a smile. “He’ll be staying overnight and be discharged in the morning as long as no complications develop. You can see him one by one, and then I’m taking you all home.”

Scott and John both leapt up at once, arguing over first visitor rights, while Virgil leant back with a sigh.

“That’s great news, Grandma,” he said, and Gordon murmured his agreement.

Scott pushed John back into his seat and ran for the door and Gordon stifled a laugh at John’s scowl. Already he could breathe easier, the walls no longer seeming dark and close.

Alan would be fine.

He took the comm back from Kayo, and found another braid, something that seemed to sit on top of the model’s sleek head and cling to it at the same time.

“Can I do your hair again?” he asked.

She laughed and handed him another hair-tie.

“Try it with one on each side,” she said. “Bet you can’t get them to match.”

#shhh it doesn't quite match the prompt but that's fine <3 #sometimes i fic #gordon tracy #thunderbirds are go #this was very fun and sweet thank you tan <33

[godlizzza]

Can you write Herbert getting Dan a cat, or Middle Age Danbert fluff?

(Btw, I love your fics so much. Every time I see you’ve posted a new one a drop everything and read it. Thank you so much for feeding my re-animator brain rot/hyperfixation. <3333333)

"Have I ever told you," Dan said, "that you're quite handsome?"

Herbert snorted. "Quite handsome?"

Dan hummed and nodded, adjusting Herbert's collar. "Yes. Above average level of handsome."

They were sat on a bench over-looking the ocean. The cliff face had taken a fair amount of hiking to reach but Dan thought it was worth it, if not for the view of the sun glimmering off the ocean far below, then the view of Herbert's serene expression as he gazed upon it. His hair fluttered in the breeze and his usually creased brow was smooth and relaxed.

Dan loved Herbert's manic energy, the way he thrummed with movement and was constantly doing something, even when he was stationary. But he loved seeing him still and quiet, content to be in one place. It was especially gratifying when that place was at Dan's side.

Herbert pursed his lips, threading his fingers together over his stomach as he watched the distant crashing waves. "Are you trying to schmooze me, Dr. Cain?"

"What?" Dan said with an affronted air. "Schmooze you? I can't just pay a compliment to my husband without some kind of ulterior motive?"

"Your ulterior motives are usually related to sex," Herbert pointed out and Dan didn't even refute him.

"I'm not thinking about sex right now," Dan assured him, winding an arm around Herbert's shoulders and drawing him close. Herbert fit snugly against Dan's side, turning so he could lay a hand against Dan's chest and lean into him. Dan savoured the warmth of him, pressing his nose into Herbert's hair and nuzzling. "When we get home though..." he purred, sliding his hand down Herbert's side.

Herbert smacked it before he could reach below his waistband and Dan chuckled, settling his hand on Herbert's waist. Herbert hadn't pulled away from him and even leaned his head against Dan's collar.

"You're ridiculous," Herbert murmured, rubbing his palm against Dan's chest in slow, gentle circles.

"Mmm." Dan closed his eyes and breathed in the lemony scent of washing detergent clinging to Herbert's shirt, mixing with the salty smell of the sea. "Love you too."

#thank you so much! thats very sweet :0 #hope you like this middle aged danbert fluff #danbert #dan cain #herbert west #re-animator #reanimator #my fics #asks #writing prompt

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey could I ask for a Thenamesh human au were Thena is raising her little sisters (Sersi and Sprite) after their parents die and Gilgamesh is her co-worker who finds her having a mini breakdown and comforts her? Kinda slow burn-ish and no smut if possible

"Sorry!"

Thena pressed even harder on her eyebrows, sure she would get bruises from it. Maybe then she might actually get medical clearance for time off. "It's fine."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine!" she snapped at him again, shifting to swipe at the corners of her eyes and wipe the tears onto her fingertips and then on the sleeves of her cardigan. "I was just...looking for something."

But all she heard was the door shutting gently.

Thena sighed, picking her head up and looking around the shelves. All that was in here was extra paper and printer ink. "Gil, I'm fine."

Gil was sweet, if a little too sweet. He went out of his way for people, which their firm really discouraged. But he was going into family law, which was easy to tell from the 'everything' about him.

"Yeah, I just, uh," she heard him shuffle around before finally turning to glare at him. Her glower was usually strong enough to scare away anyone else. He pointed at the shelf of toner. "Printer."

She closed her eyes, feeling the throbbing in her head from her coffee and the twitch in her eyes from her need for sleep. But they had a lot of contracts to examine, and Sersi was in the middle of the soccer season, which meant she didn't even get home until 6, which pushed dinner to 7 and that said nothing about homework and getting Sprite to bed at a decent hour.

"Um," Gilgamesh gulped, tugging at the suit he was wearing. It was standard attire for the firm, of course, but she always imagined he had a hard time finding suits to really fit him. Perhaps he needed shirts and Jackets in one fitting and trousers in a smaller one. "How was Sersi's game?"

She whipped her head up at him, and she must have looked ready for murder by the way he flinched. "What?"

He went stiff as a board, practically pressing his back to the door. "S-Sersi--your sister, you said she had a soccer game on friday. H-How did it go...if that's okay."

Right, friday; she had rushed home from work, still with half a day's work to complete, picked up Sprite, gotten her not to gripe all through grocery shopping, bundled her up for Sersi's game, which was a loss, and it was a hard loss, and Sersi got a few scrapes and bruises, so then they were both a little cranky for the start of the weekend, and of course that meant she didn't actually get any work done-

"Thena?"

She blinked, feeling as if she had gone somewhere else entirely. This was getting ridiculous. She just needed coffee, she reasoned. Even more coffee. She shook her head.

"Hey," he whispered, not moving from the door to let her out, despite her moving closer. "Are you okay? I know you're...I know you've got a lot on your plate."

A lot on her plate? She had that already with this job and the beginnings of her career. Her student debt alone would be more than a full plate.

That was before handling a joint funeral, and counselling for her sisters, and getting them back to school, and a full year of them not being themselves. And then, when they finally seem to be getting better, both of them start having the worst time with school in their lives.

Or maybe their mother was just better at dealing with it than Thena could say for herself. And while their father wasn't exactly her favourite person, let alone parent, her first year of filing her taxes with two dependants was enough for her to look into a decent accountant for this year.

"Listen, I know you've got this under control," Gil continued, visibly worried about saying the wrong thing. "I know you're tougher than I could ever imagine."

She really didn't know about that.

"But if you need--I mean, if you ever want a hand with anything, or even just logistics, or carpooling or something," he suggested, losing confidence with every new idea. His massive shoulders drooped and he gave her those big, sad puppy dog eyes that always got him the best desk and the best cases and the best lunch, "just let me know, y'know?"

Thena gulped. Heat rose up in her as the horror of her tears resurfaced. She was done crying. It was the middle of the work day. She didn't have time for this. This had never been an issue before.

Can we have lasagne?

Just that simple text from Sprite had set her off. Because Sprite loved lasagne--she loved their mother's lasagne. And for an entire year Sprite couldn't even stand hearing the word, let alone the sight of it. And to have her ask for it, when they all knew that Thena was somehow the worst cook of all three of them.

Gil blinked as Thena dropped her head, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her hand over her eyebrows again. His hands hovered around her, never crossing the last few inches of boundary she held.

Thena was just as shocked as she leaned froward and her forehead met something firm. But she couldn't choke it all back, a squeak escaping her as her tears dropped to the musty old storage closet carpet below.

"Hey," he whispered soothingly. Of course the bastard was great at comforting people too. Why wouldn't he be? Why wouldn't he be so completely perfect? "It'll be okay."

She usually hated when people spoke so certainly. Because what did they know? What assurance did they have? But Gil meant well. He only ever meant well. Her breathing slowed and she realised she was truly letting him embrace her. What an unfortunate turn this had taken. But he was warm, and he smelled nice. And it felt nice when he rubbed her back.

Gil let her pull away, not making a grand affair out of the whole thing. He brushed away a few more tears of hers, "you okay?"

She nodded. She was far, far from it. But she could probably get through the rest of the work day without humiliating herself further. Her throat felt dry as a bone. "Thank you."

Gil tilted his head at her. He did give off the first impression that he would be some meathead, into his own looks and loud and brash and hypermasculine. But he was kind, he was considerate of others and his good nature only made him more sensitive to those around him. "I mean it, Thena, if there's anything you need at all."

He was one of only a few who even knew about her sisters. She didn't really go around announcing her past, and she wasn't one for keeping precious personal keepsakes on her desk either. But Gil had once seen her phone light up with a notification and asked who the girls on her lockscreen were.

And as much as she could have told him to mind his own business - and he would have, knowing him - it seemed worse to ignore it. So she had told him about her sisters, and how she had basically acquired them as children, as far as the state was concerned.

The biggest advantage to Gilgamesh knowing about her duties outside the office was that he was her biggest defender whenever she couldn't make events outside of work. Of course a lot of deals happened out of the office as well as in, and being able to seal those deals came with the job. But Gil always had an excuse ready for her when she couldn't join them for drinks after work, or make a round of golf or two on sunday morning.

He smiled as she finally picked her head up. "There she is."

She chose to ignore that. She sniffled, dabbing at her eyes again. If anyone asked her if she was okay once she stepped out of this closet, she might commit an act worthy of termination. "Thanks."

"Any time," he shrugged. He still didn't leave. "I saw you get up from your desk. I thought-"

Silence came over him, perhaps at the admission that he had all but followed her here. Any other coworker and she would have her keys in her hand and a knife with his car's name on it. But only Gilgamesh could say something like that and have it be just as innocent as he meant it.

"Sorry," he concluded, having discouraged himself yet again. He blushed.

She truly was a bitch of epic proportions to inspire this level of fear from the sweetest man alive, she gathered. Usually that wasn't a problem, of course, but just this once: it was undeserved. "That's nice of you, Gil."

That seemed to surprise him even more than walking in on her crying in the closet.

She finally reached for the doorknob, and Gil nearly leapt out of her way. She headed back to her desk, with the same papers in hand as when she had first gone in. At least at her desk, she could take a breath. Her computer was still open on emails, she set the papers beside her.

Of course

She replied to Sprite, although if she got more texts she was just going to tell her not to text in class.

If her sister wanted lasagne, then she would find a way to make it happen. Affection was not her most polished skill, but love needed no polishing. If her baby sister wanted lasagne, she would have it.

If only she weren't a horrendously bad cook.

Sersi was decent, but she only ever let her help when Sersi herself seemed eager to do so, and that was usually on weekends. And Ajak was an excellent cook. Her handwritten recipes alone would not help Thena actually produce the promised product.

Thena picked up her phone again. She scrolled until she could select the contact in her phone. Perhaps it was silly to text him when his desk was in sight of hers. She was just in a closet with the man. But she selected his name and typed.

Can you make lasagne?

#Thenamesh AU #thank you for the ask sweetheart! #it's okay I only post smut if it's specifically asked for and it will always be tagged #this is a very sweet prompt #I love the idea of Thena doing her very best for these girls #at first of course she's like I do not know how to be a mother #but they don't need a mother they need their sister #so Thena #freshly out of law school and deep in debt goes yes I will take my sisters into my custody #she takes the first job she can at any firm that pays decently #she can never socialise outside of work because she's literally a single mother #not that she wants to socialise anyway but that's beside the point #meanwhile Gil is everyone's fav #he's sweet he's charming he's charismatic #and he goes and has a beer after work and he gets offered to help on a big contract and he's like #okay but I'd like Thena on it with me #they're like uh buddy you don't need the ice queen's help #he goes no but she did study divorce and custody law it kind of overlaps with my specialty sometimes #anyway lasagne! #Thena says this is my...friend #from work #Sersi and Sprite: #Sersi and Sprite: is this your boyfriend? #Thena: dO NOT!!!!! #but I mean come on #your sister brings home this super handsome and funny and sweet guy from work #and he takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves #and gets to work on your late mom's precious lasagne recipe? #they don't watch tv at all they're just spying on them all night

[pencap]

three word prompts! (your poetry means a lot to me. i'm so happy to hear you want to write again, definitely will be sending in quite a lot of these. forgive me if they're overload. I'll have a couple of options for you below!)

1) lottery, stay, finish

2) swell, keen, interest

3) intimidate, exacerbate, silver

won't you go with me? no, we are not going on a grand journey across the vast restless ocean dancing with waves or the mountaintops shaking hands with the heavens. we are only going for a walk around a block or two to greet all the neighbourhood dogs before the sun finishes setting for today. won't you come with me? no, i cannot promise you any grand riches. i cannot promise a miraculous lottery of great fortune nor buried treasures just waiting to be found. i can only promise you a warm cup of tea in the morning or a steamy cup of rich hot chocolate in the evening to go with fresh cookies still warm from the oven. won't you stay with me? isn't it enough to have you, and me, and the sun still lingering on the horizon, and the cup still warm in your hands?

#sylvie speaks #ask sylvie #poetics #three word prompts #lacunasbalustrade #thank you sweet darling #your love is deeply felt and deeply appreciated #thank you for finding meaning in my poetry #this feels very tender to me in many ways #i hope it feels tender to you too

[skitskatdacat63]

Hiii CATIE!!!!! HIII

Im pretty pretty sure people have already asked BUT HOW WAS ATTENDING THE US GP LIVE!!!! WAS???? TELL ME!! DO YOU HAVE PICS??? I know I know im late.

I ALSO HOPE YOU GOT HOME SAFE AND SOUND AND THAT YOU ARE RESTING NOW+!!!(I saw the chaos you went through im deeply sorry for you :( )

ANYWAYS HOW WAS THE RACE? HOW WAS EXPERIENCING STROLLONSO LIVE?????? AND omg did you get pics of drivers??? :00

You must must share pleaseeeeee.wax.poet

OH MY GOD ELLE SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!! IT WAS VERY COOL!!!!! VERY SURREAL!!!!!! I've taken a week to answer this but uhhhh yes I am in fact home now 🥰 I got home at like 1 am which was cool....

First of all I have to mention this! I was fighting for my life walking thru the Austin airport(from sleep deprivation), and I had my Fernando hat on my backpack, right? Some girl comes up to me and asks if I'm going to the GP, I say yes. SHE GAVE ME A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET, I COULD'VE SOBBED 🥹 It says on it "wtf is a km", I'm still so happy

COTA was the first race I ever watched, so to be actually at that track and watch a race live there was extremely surreal! Very hot though my god 😵‍💫 I think last year it was pretty hot, right? And my brother kept sending me the temp and it was pretty okay, and then of fucking course the temp leaps up to 89-97°(31-36° Celsius btw) right in time for the gp....so that was nice(I say as I burn in the sun like a vampire. But don't worry I didn't even really tan at all 😭 I always wore a hat and a lot of sunscreen. And meanwhile my brother was literally a lobster)

(This is a long post):

So unfortunately I missed the drivers parade because my brother and I were dying on Saturday night and his friends wanted to go first thing in the morning, and we're like "we will go later actually 😊" and missed it entirely 😭😭😭 but his friends took pics of Mclaren and Aston for me!!!!! But unfortunately I havent gotten them still, so I'll have to reblog this later with those! I took a lot of pictures of the cars I took from behind the fence, which I think I've posted some of? Lmk if anyone wants those!! They're very random, I just thought it was very surreal to see the cars flying past, so I took a million.

The coolest part was definitely running on track after the race was over!!! Soooooo surreal, and so I'm only gonna post pics rn from Sunday(bcs pic limit on phone) and also I think everything else kinda pales in comparison(but of course lmk if there's anything you're interested in seeing 🤭)

Okay and did I see any drivers...? ONLY ONE BUT AAAAHHHH I DID SEE LANDO!!! Not even one of my favs but it was soooooo surreal to see him, even from afar. As you can see above, everyone standing on the fences was blocking the view 🙄, but during the podium, I was focusing my camera btwn their legs and got literally one second of Lando 😭 I think its a pretty aesthetic clip, so I gifed it!!

It was so funny, I went to the gp with my brother and friends, so all these older guys yeah. And I was showing this off to them on the ride home, and his one friend was praising me so much for it 😭😭 like: "oh my god!!!! You could put this in an edit !!! This is so sick!!!!"

Oh one other thing!!! I think I've mentioned it before but my god, my favorite f1 podiums are always the ones with confetti, right?? AND THERE WAS CONFETTI AT THIS RACE!!!

LOOK AT HOW PRETTYYYYY!!!! And so anyways, I picked up so much confetti off the ground and now it lives forever in my phone case 🥰🥰🥰 I have no other room for pics on this post(for now) but oh my godddddddddd most of the confetti were just rectangles BUT THERE WAS ALSO ONES SHAPED LIKE TEXAS!!! SO COOL!!!!! And I also picked up a bunch of tire marbles off the ground!!! And a piece of plastic that probably came off some car. It was so funny when all of us were just scrounging off the ground. My bro's one friend somehow found a piece of carbon fiber, and we're all like "how can I kill him in his sleep and steal this from him..." But no the highlight actually of that process was watching my brother sprint to the podium, but stopping and grabbing a bunch of gravel first to shove in his pocket 😭😭😭

The other two days were fun as well, but also a lot of just dying in the heat and drinking a fuckton of red bull, so there's not too much specifically to say! I really liked hearing the cars. I think if you wanna know what's actually going on in a race, watching from home is better, but hearing the cars go by and seeing them is just so fucking sick. It was so funny to see grown men be like "I think I'm going to cry hearing these cars." I was really flexing on them with "uhhh yeah I've already been to a gp already 🙄🙄"

Anyways I ended the day by breaking bank by buying my dad and myself Fernando shirts because he is of course Fernando's biggest fan 🥰🥰 and I bought the most delicious overpriced lemonade, which I only drank half of bcs my brother proceeded to accidentally elbow it out of my hand....

OH WAIT ONE MORE DETAIL LOL. On Friday, my brother and his friend were waiting in line for smth and I was talking to them outside of the barrier. I look down, hmm theres a red cap abandoned on the ground, I pick it up, it is in fact a Ferrari hat. And that is how my brother acquired a $40+ dollar hat for free. Lucky bastard....I was the who found it!

#there is my experience kinda summed up???? i #i wanted to wait to answer this until i got all the random misc photos but alas i sitll havent #but its still very sweet to me that theu took pics of the drivers parade for me 🥺🥺 #he was like “here is mclaren!!! and here is aston!!!!” THANK YOU STILL 🥹🥹 #oh fuck wait i forgot to mention a crucial detail #on the wah home from the gp my brother's tire popped 😭😭😭😭 #and im ofc chilling in the car while these three car men(horse girls tbf) change the tire #and theyre all covered in grease and i say “what a great way to end the day!' and his friend turns around anf gives me this face: �� #various misfortunes but it was fine!!! it was great!!!!! just tiring #OH YEAH THE KILLERS WAS PRETTY COOL AS WELL!!!!! #basically: everything was sick 😎 #except every time oscar and nando did badly and i would fall dramatically onto the ground bcs that's the type of persom i am #thank you so much for asking elle 🥺🥺🥺 #if you hadnt prompted i prob wouldve never ended up recapping it #all i can say is im incredibly lucky to have all the experiences i did this year #catie.rambling.txt #catie.asks. #*OH MY GOD YEAH ONE THIGN #*i bought a new phone beforew this gp. for this gp tbh. bcs of the camers. i think it paid off pretty well no? 🤭

[bam-stroker]

Rest stop prompt time!!!!

Have you ever thought about Sun trying to teach Moon how to skate?

I haven't but o buddy this is so sweet, I have now!!!! Have a drabble my friend (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Soooooooooo~ I’ve got a special date planned for tonight, Moonglow.” Sun hums warmly, as they lean across the front check-in desk with easy confidence. Instead of their usual diner uniform, they have on one of Moon’s short sleeve button up shirts. The dark blue and black color scheme has Sun’s yellow silicone glowing even brighter than usual. It’s become a frequent habit of theirs to borrow Moon’s clothes, and it still leaves him a flustered mess every time he sees them wearing it. The little star flair designs along the front must be matching how bright the constellations along his cheek are shining. 

Fully distracted by it all, it takes a moment for Moon’s mind to catch up. He blinks the stars from his eyes, and hides his flustered smile in the safety of his nightcap. “Special? Should I bring anything?” 

Sun’s fingers swirl along the black countertop like golden comet trails, a mischievous quirk to their smile as they say, “Wear your shorts. I don't want you tripping over your pants.” 

✨

As the street lamps kick on, Moon waits outside the diner for Sun. The humidity and heat of the day lingers over the hot asphalt like a warm blanket. Past the glow of the neon signs and lamps lining the sidewalks, he catches quick glimpses of the stars in the night sky. A shiver rattles through him as a cool night breeze brushes against his bare legs. He only has a few pairs of shorts, and it’s rare he ever wears them, but for Sun he’s willing to give them a try from time to time. He much prefers the familiar comfort of cloth covering his knobby robotic legs, but the warm weight of Sun’s hand on his knee sure can be a motivator to change up his look when they ask. 

Dusty blue silicone peaks out below the crisp hemline of his shorts on his upper thighs, only for the color to fade like the twilight to darker shades towards his calves. Embroidered stars and moons dance along the hemline of his navy blue shorts, as little bursts of white, silver, and gold. Nestled snugly above his waist, he fiddles with the tip of his black leather belt to try and tuck it behind the closest loop. The blue and yellow stripes along his white shirt reflect back through the diner windows as he does so. 

The chime of the diner door grabs his attention, but before he can look up, an unfamiliar whoosh steamrolls towards him like a freight train. Wide eyed with shock, a blur of yellow rockets towards him, and he wonders if the comet is falling from the roof to crash into him. 

“Hey there handsome!” 

All at once, the motion consumes him as Sun’s arms wrap tight around his waist to lift him up. He yelps with surprise, hanging on to them like a dizzy koala, as they spin in perfect circles. While that train rattling sound crunches on the concrete below them. 

“Surprise!” They chime, as they finally slow to a stop. 

Moon keeps his arms and legs firmly wrapped around Sun, as if at any moment the roller-coaster might start up again. They titter gleefully as he simply gawks at them. “What… was that?!” The usually low soothing murmur of his voice raises to sound much closer to the tinny tenor of Sun's natural tone.

Sun hefts him up in their arms, humming with mischievous delight as their warm palms cradle the exposed silicone of his thighs. “Said I had a surprise for tonight.” They lean forward to press a chaste kiss to the anxiously flaring stars along his night cheek. “Management sent me some roller skates for the diner~ Thought it might be fun to teach you how to skate… if you’d like?” 

The flash of pastel pink wheels grabs Moon’s attention as he looks down at Sun’s feet. The design is the same dreamy color palette as the rest of the diner, with pastel pinks, turquoise, and white accents. They’re cute and so very Sun.

Between the warm honey of their tone and the sweet touches, all his shock melts away to a familiar flustered buzz. He lets out a huff of laughter as he bonks his forehead to theirs, a few final jolts of surprise trickling through his wires. “That’s… some surprise, Sunrise.” He lets out a wispy sigh, and leans back to look at them. “So what was your plan if I said no to learning?”

They give a small squeeze to his thighs, as they very pointedly give him a pleased look over. “Well… I could show you some tricks I’ve learned. Or–” they lower their voice to a purr, “we could spend some time up on the roof. I’d love to go stargazing, and I think I know just the ones I’d like to map out with you.” 

A quick flurry of kisses pepper along his cheek to land on the glowing stars there.

Suave and oh so silly, Moon can’t help but lose himself to laughter as Sun ends each static kiss with a playful Mwah! 

“Ok! Ok!” Moon gets out between wispy giggles, his eyes crack back open to look at Sun’s eager smile. His own lopsided one must be as wide as can be in return.

“You’ve got the sweetest little laugh, you know that, Moon Pie?” Even through all the teasing, Sun’s eyes soften fondly as they give him a happy squeeze.

He playfully baps at their arm to let him down. “I’ll probably be laughing when I fall face first while skating… Remind me about that again when I do.” It’s a joke, but there’s hardly any real worry to it with the way hiccups of soft laughter bubble up through his words.

Sun hums a happy little tune as they help him back to the ground, “You won’t fall, sweetie, I’ll be right here to hold you steady.” They thread their fingers with one of his hands to tug him towards the diner. “Gonna hold your hand all night, Nightlight~!” 

Would Moon ever be as skilled as Sun at roller skating? Probably not. But none of that seems to matter with how wide his lopsided smile stretches at the thought of how steady and warm their hand is in his. 

After all, if skating is a bust… stargazing sounded pretty good too ❤

#my writing #rest stop in the stars #drabble prompt #ask spooky #sun x moon #celestial girlfriends #celestial boyfriends #maaaaaay this was such a cute prompt!!!! #honestly i'll probably end up sketching them skating at some point #thank you for the prompt it was very sweet and fun :')