#BUT WE DON’T KNOW WHAT OTHER SHIT WILL HAPPEN

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt 4.

prev part. part 1 next part

TW: Drug use, mentioned rape, mention of violence, medic is the worst human on earth

Simon sat down next to Johnny on his bed, holding the Scotsman's hand while giving him a reassuring nod. "We have the whole day time."

"It's complicated."

"I will understand."

"Promise to believe me."

"Promise." Simon didn't know exactly what had happened or how Johnny got this way. He always admired Johnny for his confidence and the way he made everything seem so easy. Seeing his boyfriend like this broke his heart. He knew Johnny would never cheat on you; he loved you, everyone loved you. He remembered that one day Johnny got piss drunk on a mission and a bird approached him. He showed her pictures of you for 10 minutes, telling everyone he had the most beautiful lass on earth. This man wouldn’t cheat, especially not with her, definitely not his type.

Simon thought she had just gone into Johnny's bed at night, removing her clothes and gaslighting him that he cheated. But when Johnny told him everything about the drugs, about the rape, about the way she tried to blackmail him, he felt like he needed to throw up. He was too young to protect his mother from this. He couldn’t do anything when it happened to him. He didn’t know you when it happened to you. But this time, he was going to kill the rapist. "You’re a good man. Don’t let her manipulate you into something you aren’t."

"I feel like shit."

"This won’t go away easy, love."

"I don’t know what to do." And he really didn’t know. Everything seemed and felt so lost. Simon believed him, right? But what if she tells everyone he raped her? It will be over with his military career. After she pulled that stunt you wouldn’t believe him anymore. The look in your eyes almost broke him completely. This was wrong. It went too easy for her like she had done this many times before or had been planning this for years. It was too easy.

"Let me fix it for you, Johnny." He was determined to do this. Through his head already went 1000 ideas on how to kill her. But every way was too easy, too nice for her. Rip her head off. Sell her off to the black market so she will experience first-hand the crimes she did to others. Burn her alive. Many possibilities.

"Don’t kill her, Lieutenant."

"You know she will do it again. Not only to you but to others."

"Do you think she already did this?" Johnny fiddled with his wrist. The bracelet that you bought him to help with his ADHD was gone. It always calmed him. You told him how you searched through whole Etsy to find some gems that should calm him down. He didn’t believe this shit, but it indeed calmed him down since it reminded him of you. And right now, you were the only thing he needed. He needed you to tell him that he isn’t dirty, that he isn’t at fault, that he is a good man.

"Would explain why she was transferred so fast to us from her old unit."

"Fuck." This needed to stop. He couldn’t let that happen to more innocent people.

"Let’s talk to Price, then I’ll take care of her, and after that, we get our girl back." Simon missed you just as much as Johnny did. For a split second, he was afraid that you were mad and disappointed that he didn’t check on you. But that wasn’t the selfless girl he fell in love with. He knew you would understand if you only knew. He could already imagine how you would apologize even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You were different than the medic scum.

"Do you think she’ll take us back?"

"Yes, promise." He placed a small kiss on the shaved part of Johnny's mohawk, a small gesture that the Scot always loved. Simon always knew how to calm him down. With that, they left in the direction of Price's office.

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

He woke up with an immense headache and the urge to throw up. John really drank too much the last few days, but this will end now. He will concentrate on you and the job again. You forgave him for lying, at least that was the last thing he remembered before you brought him to his bed. On his bedside table stood a glass of water and one of your self-made brownies with a small note. "Take care of yourself, bear." You always jokingly called him a bear because that was what he was to you. John was the big cuddly bear who always kept you safe.

He knew by the amount of alcohol he drank yesterday, he should probably head to the medical department for some meds. He would never tell anyone, though. He was a hypocrite sometimes, always letting the other hungover soldiers run miles to torture them for being so irresponsible to drink before training. But he could afford the luxury of taking meds against his hangover.

So John went to the medical. He was annoyed when he only saw her there.

"Hello, Captain." She smiled brightly, which made him almost throw up on the spot. There was always a difference between the real, sweet-like-a-cake, like his girl, and the artificial acting sweetness she faked. It was disgusting. "Is there another medic or nurse in here today?"

"No, sorry, Captain."

"I'll go then."

"Come on, Captain, be professional. What do you need?"

"Just something against my hangover." He can be professional and still respect you, right? You won’t be mad he talked to her.

"That was easy. I'll bring you something."

She came back, still with that creepy artificial sweet smile. In her hand was a glass of water with, judging by the displaced white particles, meds. "Just some pain meds against headache and dehydration. Drink up, Captain, and then stay here for 20 minutes for the next med."

John drank it up. After a few minutes of sitting in the chair, he felt his limbs tingle weirdly. This must be one of those side effects of the meds.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Weird name.

"Don’t call me that." He tried to leave, but it felt like his body didn’t do the things he wanted anymore like he was paralyzed.

"I wouldn’t do that, John."

"What was in there?" This can’t be fucking true. This is one of those weird drunk dreams.

"Oh, baby, just some mild paralyzer. Don’t worry, it only lasts three hours, and you can still talk. That’s great, isn’t it? Oh, and Viagra."

Fuck, this is true. This is how she got Johnny. She is fucking sick. "What do you want?"

"You know, I really tried to be nice, but you all only talk about her all the time, so I took matters into my own hands." She said as she slowly sat down on his lap. John tried hard to do anything, but he wasn’t able to move.

"Look, you’re a pretty girl. You don’t need us. There is someone who loves you." He tried to be nice, and use his words to come out of this situation, but she already removed his pants. He knew it was over there until he heard the sudden voices of Johnny and Simon. He knew she could never outsmart them, and she knew it too.

"Fuck, fuck," she screamed, gathering the remaining meds and her things. She ran out of the room the second she saw the door open.

"Fucking hell, Captain, you're okay?"

"That fucking cunt drugged me. Get a fucking nurse here." This all didn’t go like Simon's plan. It felt like she was always a step ahead of them.

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

Kyle didn't notice any of the drama going on in medical as he used his time in the gym. Well, more of texting you instead of being productive, until.

"Fucking hell."

------

Tag list: @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

A/N: I know you are waiting for her downfall, it will come promise.

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR ★彡PART 5

Prev. Next.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: a lot of media attention and some solo time isn’t enough to keep paige away from you.

A/n: one more chap after this then we done 😛

YOU WAKE UP with a pounding headache, not as engulfing as last night but still enough to induce a groan as you lift your head from your pillow.

The hotel-white pillowcase is smeared with residual makeup and your hair feels tangled and unruly. It was surprising how well you slept, seeing as multiple things had happened the night before that should’ve kept you up till morning. You look around to see the hotel room is empty, then check your phone for the time. It’s 1:34pm, you’ve slept into the afternoon.

Your phone is absolutely filled with notifications.

JUJU-KINS😘

U up?

Coach is lit tweaking rn

U bouta be getting media trained FOR LIFE

ELAINEY 🤞

hey

can we talk pls?

ur only in town for a couple more days

it’s not as bad as it seems i swear

i was drunk

COACH

Call me when you see this message.

I hope you already know what you’ve done wrong so I don’t have to waste my time.

You’re smarter than this!

Collapsing on your bed again, you bury yourself in the sheets. Being in Connecticut had just turned out to be a nightmare, you’ve barely interacted with your teammates, your friendship with Elaine was ruined, you’ve had the most confusing relationship with Paige and you’ve made a fool of yourself online.

You shoot a quick text to Juju as well as some other teammates who’ve checked up on you, being sure to ignore Elaine’s texts. You find yourself re-reading your messages with Paige, thankfully your drunk brain hadn’t texted anything too out of pocket, and though you clearly remember her typing after your last message she hadn’t responded since then.

Your call with Coach was the most dreaded of all, you truly respected and feared her, so sitting through an almost half-hour phone call about your responsibilities, failures, expectations and repercussions was awful.

In short, you were to be off of social media until back in state, live privileges were fully revoked, if you were to be found partying and clubbing you’d be in massive trouble, you had to issue a statement on Instagram and twitter (which was pre-written by some professional), and the next practice you participate in will be the worst practice you’ve ever experienced in the history of bad practices. Most probably an insane amount of sprints.

You release your statements on Instagram and Twitter, but before deleting the apps you check out Paige’s comments. She’d obviously received a similar order. Her Instagram story consisted of a black screen and a small box of text, simply entailing how spreading love and positivity while uplifting other players is an obligation she intends to follow from this point onwards.

Her twitter had two new tweets:

paigebueckers1 : Me and (Name) have had some truly special experiences in college basketball. She’s an amazing player who is only gonna go higher and get better as she grows. When I was a junior I was stuck in crutches hoping for the chance I have now. (Name) as a junior herself is absolutely killing it on the court and I for one will always be rooting for her, competitive comments online or not. Keep doin what you’re doin @yourusername !

paigebueckers1 : God is good! 🙏

Turning your phone off, the only thing you’re thinking is ‘you’re so full of shit.’

You wonder if she wrote that herself or if somebody wrote it for her and made it seem like it was her own typing. Regardless, it didn’t matter anymore. You’d had your experience with the Big East Champion, and it was enough for a lifetime.

The amount of content coming out regarding you and Paige was insanely overwhelming. Debates online regarding your skills, looks, personality and basically anything the public can grasp were rampant. You and Paige had been a bit of a scandal ever since she shaded you on that panel, and the media had been seriously following you two back and forth between the seemingly friendly interactions and more hostile ones.

Eventually you stumble upon something different. A video of you and Paige in the background of KK and Ice’s live that day in the coffee shop. You can see yourself fumbling with napkins, and Paige approaching. It’s almost entrancing to see everything play out from another perspective, to see how her face eases into a smile at your smartass comments, to relive your own amused emotion at her stare, to watch Paige speedily write her number on a napkin before the camera shifts and the live ends.

You’re unsure how to react to all of this. No matter how close or far you could get with Paige, would it ever amount to anything? To the slightest bit of trust? Her lips were almost on yours that evening in the street, but just an hour earlier she had lied to your face about knowing Elaine.

You recall what Elaine drunkenly spat out during your argument outside the bar.

“N’ I’ll tell you what. She’s going to play your ass and you’re never gonna get over it, cus that’s what she does.”

Was this spoken out of experience, or a mixture of jealousy and intoxication? Had Elaine once been that girl on the street, inches away?

You can’t help but think it wasn’t the case. Paige bit her tongue around you to stifle a laugh or to hold back a rebuttal to your teasing. When it came to Elaine, Paige bit her tongue in a different way. A loathing way. You couldn’t explain it.

Plus, Elaine had said herself that you were not Paige’s usual type. If she meant you and her were not alike, that was the truth. You and Paige had more of a history, more similar lifestyles and experiences, more. At least you assumed so.

Finally, you decide you’ve done enough thinking for the day. It was time to line up some plans, maybe meet up with the team for a couple hours and then hoop solo in the evening. Anything to distract from the situation.

-

The sound of a basketball against the blacktop, the hollow bounce that always found itself back to your hand. It’s sustenance to you, it’s breathing.

Storrs had been blessed with a hotter Sunday then usual, even in your shorts and t-shirt you were sweating, shooting hoops the same way you’ve been doing since you were a child.

The court was empty and outdoors, perfect for you to hold the ball for a moment and admire the scenery, the changing colours of the sky as afternoon fades to evening.

You hear the bounce of a ball again, but yours is secured in your hand.

“Hey.”

You’re not surprised to see her. The sink in your stomach as you meet her eyes in almost predictable.

“What are the chances.” You scoff. “Don’t you have like, the entire UConn gym to hoop?”

“I come to this court all the time.” Paige narrows her eyes. “It’s usually peaceful.”

“I figured.” You say curtly, turning your head to see the setting sun. It was very peaceful, even with the impending silence between you and the blonde.

“How drunk were you last night?” Paige asks.

You spin around to give her a look. “Drunk enough to get on live,” You scoff. “but sober enough to read a text and send it without regrets.”

At the mention of your short conversation with Paige over text, you can see her cringe. She obviously hadn’t been expecting you to find out about her relationship with your friend, let alone be so upfront with it.

“I never fucked her in my car…just so you know.” She finally manages to breath out.

You almost bark out a laugh at this. “You think I’m mad cus you fucked her?” You ask, walking towards Paige and lightly dribbling the ball. She simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape.

“Are you not?”

“Is the blonde fucking seeping into your head?” You snap, mentally celebrating as her lips forms a straight line. “If you don’t know, you better figure it out.”

Paige brings a hand to her face, rubbing her forehead as if it’s aching. Her eyes are wide and analyzing you, thinking of the best way to respond.

“Go on,” you tease her. “tell me why I’m mad.”

You’re close to her now, too close for comfort. You can see her smile lines, her plush lips, her silver chain glinting beneath the black long sleeve she’s wearing. The sleeves are rolled up, and you can’t help but noticed how veiny her arms are, how her long fingers are holding the basketball against her body.

Biting her lip, Paige finally responds. “You’re mad because I lied.”

“Smart girl.” You scoff, almost choking on your breath when her jaw clenches at your comment. “I’m mad cus you lied to my face. And cus you went on live and shit talked me again for no reason.”

You and her stare at each other for a long moment before she breaks a smile. “That was my bad.” She murmurs. “I was uh, Ion’ know. I was in sum kinda mood.”

“The mood to lie?” You raise your eyebrow. “Or the mood to be a bitch?”

“Don’t call me a bitch.” She scowls, and you’re reminded of the last time you called her that, at the end of your game against UConn.

“That’s what you are, Bueckers.” You say with a smile, eyeing her down and getting in her face just a little more. “Bitches lie, bitches make problems out of nothing.”

Her eye is fiercely trained on you, on the way your lips move as you degrade her. You can’t tell what she’s thinking in the slightest.

“(Name), I’m sorry.” She says softly.

Once again you two are staring in silence. The proximity is intoxicating, you can practically smell her clean clothes.

“Are you still fucking Elaine?”

“Hell no.” Paige shakes her head furiously. “That ended a while ago. We haven’t talked in like months.”

“She still has your location.” You grumble. “That’s how she knew I was with you at the restaurant.”

“Shit.” Paige groans, immediately pulling out her phone. “She interrupted us on purpose then? Psycho.”

You watch as she turns off her location for Elaine and blocks her before slipping her phone back in her pocket.

“We didn’t hookup for long.” Paige says, obviously feeling the need to explain herself. “Jus a couple times. I broke things off, she couldn’t accept how busy my schedule was.”

You shrug, not knowing what to say.

“Guess she couldn’t accept you and me either, huh?” Paige smirks, shooting you a ‘forgive me’ type look.

Ignoring the swell in your heart at the stupid comment, you just chuckle and shake your head.

“Do you wanna 1v1?” She asks almost sheepishly.

You think for a moment.

“You sure I’m on your level?”

Paige looks embarrassed for a moment, remembering what she said on her live. “Quit playin.” She rolls her eyes. “C’mon, show me what you got.”

-

You’d be lying if you were to say you knew the score.

Was she taking score? You and Paige were equally insanely competitive, but this wasn’t a true test of skill. This was a test of endurance. A test to see who would break first.

You knew this when her hand grazed your waist as she darted past you to the other end of the court, or when she stared you down, tongue between her lips as she blocked your shot. You retaliated yourself, letting your hand linger a bit too long as you helped her up from the ground after tripping her up, or whistling at her as she makes another three.

The heavy breathing, the piercing stares, the cold air as the sun disappeared. You were in a zone you’d never been in before, somehow equally focused on the game and the girl.

You manage to steal the ball from Paige in a swift moment, but suddenly she’s in front of you again. Her hands dart for the ball, attempting to smack it out of your hand. She almost manages to steal it back, but your grip tightens just at the right moment.

She’s stuck to you, her hands attempting to pry the ball out of your own. You can hear her breath, you can see the beaded sweat on her forehead, you can feel her blue eyes watching you, watching your chest widen and shrink with every inhale and exhale, watching your lips.

It’s a replay of the college game that started all of this.

You struggle for a moment longer before the tousle is not longer controlled, the ball slips between both of your sweaty hands. You and Paige both scramble to save it, but it bounces out of your grasps and away from the court.

Neither of you chase after it.

She’s still up close to you, face flushed from the game.

“What was the score?” She huffs, out of breath. Paige’s voice is raspy and tired. You feel something spark inside of you.

“No clue.”

Paige’s face breaks into a small smirk as her hands find your waist, uncertain and soft, just barely ghosting your frame. “That was my ball.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, your heart hammering at the feeling of her eyes exploring every part of you, lingering on your lips before she finally leans in.

Paige’s lips are rough against yours, but fit perfectly as if moulded for your own. She melts into you, her hands finally tightening around your body, her face tilting just right so she can finally taste you. It’s something you didn’t know you’d been waiting for. She kisses with a million emotions, with urgency, passion and the slightest bit of control. It’s electrical.

When you need to break the kiss to breath, you simply tug on her ponytail. You were not expecting the slight whimper as your lips part.

“M’ not done.” She mutters against you, catching her breath.

“I want you, P.” You whisper, looking up at her. Paige’s face immediately changes at this, lips tilting upward in an annoyingly charismatic way.

“I know you do, baby.” She murmurs. “Let me take you home.”

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII

Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: @weakling-grace did some fanart for the series that I absolutely adore! And I want you all to look at it. It’s on her blog, or reposted on mine under the tag How about a nuke? Summary: The wound’s infected. It shouldn’t be, but here you are anyway, barely holding on to life. You make it as far as you can and then it’s up to him to decide whether you get to live or die.

“Have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous woman in this room?” You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face even if you tried. 

“Only about a dozen times.” His hand reaches for yours across the table and you take it eagerly, linking your fingers together and enjoying the way his hazel eyes linger on yours. You could get lost in them, as cliche as it sounds. You and about every other woman in the world fell in love when you first saw those smiling eyes on the silver screen. 

“I’ll just have to tell you a dozen more.”

God, you would swoon if you could. But, unfortunately, you are in the middle of a very nice restaurant and you’re sure they wouldn’t enjoy your fainting spell. It’s not like you could help it, he was so effortlessly charming, everything he said with that rasping accent of his sounded like music to you. 

Your smile slipped slightly when you caught two women staring at you both. They weren’t even trying to hide it, pointing and whispering behind their hands. You clenched your jaw, trying your best not to let the anger show on your face. But he caught it anyway. 

Cooper dropped your hand and tucked his back in his lap. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, they caught his eye and gasped, stopping their cruel whispers. You opened your mouth to try and make him feel better but he interrupted you, “Hey-”

“I told you this was gonna happen sweetheart.” You hated how sad he sounded, how resigned he was to his new place in life. It was no secret that most of your fellow actors despised him now just because he did a few ad campaigns for Vault-Tec. But that didn’t mean the rest of the world did. There were still plenty of people who adored Cooper and asked for his autograph. 

Granted, those ladies clearly weren’t fans, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got spotted together in public and rumors started up again. You didn’t care what that meant about future roles. “I want to be with you, Coop, but I can’t keep having this same conversation over and over again.” You sighed and finally drew your hand back to yourself, he tracked the movement like a hawk. 

“If this is too much,” you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and put on a stilted smile. “If being with me in the public eye is too much then maybe we should-”

“Enough,” he reached back over and forced his hand into yours. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you.” He stopped you before you could interrupt him, giving you a knowing smile. “I know that you don’t care what being around me does to your career, but I do. There’s no reason for the both of us to be washed up celebrities.”

“Hey, you’re not washed up, plenty of people still want to see you on the silver screen.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and picking up his fork, “Let’s just enjoy our meal, sweetheart.”

“Pick up the pace! I’m not gonna wait for you forever, sweetheart.”

You glared at him and leaned on a tree for support. You’re not sure what’s going on. You feel hot under your skin but also like you’re freezing, you’d thrown up twice during night watch and you’re about five seconds away from keeling over. 

Your sweaty palm slips against the bark and you go sliding over. You hear his boots stomping through the grass before they stop in front of you. Rough hands steady your shoulders and shove you upright again. His eyes rove across your face, the muscles above his eyes turning down in concern. 

“Shit, you look like,” he trailed off, “well, to be perfectly honest you look like shit.”

You laughed but it came out strangled and he flinched back in disgust when you started coughing. “Good to know you’re still a gentleman, Cooper.” 

He sighed and led you over to a rotted log. You threw yourself down on it, wincing as it jarred your sensitive stomach. The gash was aching a lot more than it should. 

When you’d been shot, you could barely even feel it by this point. Now the wound was burning, itching so bad you just wanted to rip the stitches out with your bare hands. Your head rolls back and you clench your eyes shut as another wave of nausea goes through you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, rattling like a hummingbird in a cage. 

He kneels in front of you and reaches for your shirt. You lean back on your hands to give him better access. “Stimpak should have worked by now,” he mutters. He pulls your shirt higher up on your abdomen and hisses through his teeth. 

“What is it?” Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words come out garbled. 

“Shit!” He yanks your shirt down and reaches for your bag, digging through it until he finds another one of the Stimpaks you’d taken. 

You’d be more panicked if your head wasn’t floating right now. “What is it?” He doesn’t answer you, he hovers the injector over his mouth and lets the medicine shoot in. You wince when he immediately turns to spit it into the grass. 

He wipes the back of his mouth and chuckles. “Should’ve fucking known,” he mutters. He goes through the rest of the supplies you’d grabbed and starts chucking them further into the forest. 

You’re getting pissed off now. Pissed off and worried, you just needed him to talk to you, tell you what’s going on. “Cooper!” You snap, hand clutched over the burning wound on your stomach. He sighs and looks up at you. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“Fakes,” he says, mouth set in a firm line and eyes hard against your worried gaze. “See, darlin’, some people like the men we met last night hand out fake supplies.” If you weren’t so worried you’d be mad about how condescending he sounds. 

“They take empty injectors and fill ‘em with chems to keep people sick and coming back to them. It’s a steady income,” he says, like it’s a respectable career. “Your wound is infected, probably only worsened by whatever chem they put in the Stimpak I stuck you with.”

Your eyes are wide with horror. You can’t decide what’s worse, that you’ve essentially been poisoned and are probably experiencing sepsis right now. Or that people were capable of being so cruel and profited off of it. He pulls your canteen out of your bag and unscrews the cap. He holds the water up to your nose, “Sniff.” You do and he waves his hand, prompting you to tell him what exactly you smelled. 

“Smells like metal,” you shrug, not sure what that means. 

“Infected and you’ve got rad poisoning.” At your confused glance he continues, “Water’s not purified either, sweetheart. Whatever you got is about to get a hundred times worse.” When he turns his back to put the water back in your bag you finally risk a glance down at your stomach. 

You wished you hadn’t because you’re immediately bending over to throw up what was left of your rations. The skin has swelled over the stitches, practically swallowing the black thread. The place the knife went in is red and puckered, pus forming at the corners. The sides of your stomach have an odd green tint that you’re trying not to think about too hard, most likely a side effect of whatever chem you’d been dosed with. 

He presses the canteen into your hand and you shake your head from where it is between your knees. “Can’t, radiation.”

He laughs, the sound unkind, “It’s a bit late for that, honey.” You snatch the water out of his hand and gulp down as much as you can stomach. It’s not much, the taste of the water is too metallic and bitter for you. “The place we’re going, they’ve got medicine. We get you there and I’m sure I can work something out with them.”

You know what that really means. He’ll get paid for his bounty and then he’ll get what he wants, whether they offer it freely or not. “If I get there,” you mutter, still holding back the rest of your breakfast. 

“Enough,” he snaps. His hand wraps around your elbow and he yanks you to your feet. “We need to get a move on, power through.” If you had the strength, you’d slap him again. 

“Here you go,” he placed a bowl down on the coffee table, steam still wisping over the edge. He sat down beside you on your couch and brushed some hair away from your face and you leaned into the warmth of his palm. You were freezing but he seemed to think you were burning up. 

“Did you make me soup?” Your voice is groggy with sleep. He helps you into a sitting position and hands you the bowl. 

“No,” he laughs a little and leans back against the cushions, arm spreading out behind you and pulling you into him. “But I warmed it up for you.”

“Cooper,” you whisper. 

“Get a move on!” He shouts from a couple yards ahead. “You either move your ass or I’ll leave you here, because I’m sure as shit not carrying you.”

Oh shit. 

Hallucinating is never a good sign. You would swear on everything above that you were just on your couch with Cooper. You could still feel the warmth of the bowl in your hands, the old plush fabric of your couch on your cheeks. 

You swallowed down bile and did your best to catch up to him. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the fog over your eyes, but it didn’t help much. It took you a minute to realize it was from the sweat dripping down your brow and burning against your retinas that was causing the problem. 

You glanced around, surprised to find yourself surrounded by sand. Weren’t you just in the forest? You lifted a shaking hand to try and get rid of the glare of the sun. He was walking closer to you now, keeping a keener eye on you. You trip over your own feet for the inth time and try to keep pushing yourself. 

“Any chance we could dim those?” You squint and point up to the lights hanging above the set and one of the PA’s runs off to fulfill your request. You shake your boots out, tired of all the sand that’s been getting in them. You understand you’re meant to be chasing an outlaw through the “Wild West” but this is getting ridiculous. 

You’ve done about a hundred retakes of this scene, you’re not sure when the director is going to admit defeat but you hope it’s soon. You don’t know why the studio is even bothering to do cowboy stuff anymore. Everyone knows since Coop was forced out of the industry no one’s wanted to see these types of movies. 

The actor you’re working with this time is a dick. He’s commanding and rude, he’s got no sense of boundaries either. Or a nose. 

What the fuck?

He stands over top of you and you finally realize that you’ve collapsed into the sand. You let your head fall back and rub your forehead. One second you’re on a set and the next you’re in the Wastelands at the end of the world. You’re struggling to remember which version of reality is real and which isn’t. 

“I mean it,” he threatens, “I ain’t carrying you.” Your hand flops uselessly to your side, muscles fatigued and the burning in your gut sucking the energy out of you. The only part of yourself you’re physically aware of is the stab, you can’t feel anything else. You can’t twitch your toes or wiggle your fingers, everything is off kilter. “Alright then,” he leans down and yanks your arm over his shoulder. 

Before you’re processing what’s happening the world is being tilted on its axis and you’re being hauled to your feet. You don’t remember much about traveling through the sands. Everything is one long blur of red and orange. When the air in front of you starts to get wavy your eyes lose focus and you black out.

She nearly made it. They’re only about an hour away from this compound he’s been trying to get her to. He sighs, looking down at her prone form in the sand. There’s sweat beading along her forehead, her lips are cracked and split and her face has an unusual tint to it that can’t mean anything healthy. 

He squats down next to her and debates how he wants to go about this. The wound on her stomach has only gotten worse since they started walking, it’s just looking angrier and angrier. With how infected it is, it’s possible that even a stimpak might not help her now. 

He could leave her here, get the bounty, and go on his merry way. He could shoot her, put her out of her misery and leave. Or he could throw her over his shoulder and walk the last hour to the compound, hoping that whatever they have there will help. No matter what choice he makes, it’s her life in his hands. 

His hand drifts forward, brushing the hair off her cheek and lingering on the soft skin there. He sighs before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder, she whines, her wound rubbing against his shoulder and probably causing her a heap of pain. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, though, as long as she was feeling something that was a good sign. 

“Nearly there, sweetheart,”; he muttered. He tuned into her shallow breathing, the long pauses before her next breath and let that be what keeps him going. She better not fucking die on him. He grunts, shifting her higher up on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around her legs. 

He could feel how hot she was through each layer of their clothing. This was more than just the sun, she seemed like she was about to combust. “Cooper,” she whimpers. He frowns, she’s been muttering to herself since they left the forest. Talking about things that weren’t possible. 

He’s seen it before, with infection or rad poisoning, the hallucinations start pretty early. Only problem is, he’s never met anyone who lasted as long as her. She should have been dead hours ago. He has no idea what’s keeping her going, but she better fucking hold onto it. 

You laughed, your dress swirling around your legs like a blooming red flower as he spun you through the room. His hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you back into his chest. You smiled at him and he reached up to brush the hair out of your face. 

Sinatra’s smooth voice cracked and then began to stutter. You laughed again but Cooper just rolled his eyes and walked over to fix the record. You smoothed out your dress and sat down on his couch, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table. 

You took a sip, hoping for some liquid courage, and regretted it. You’d momentarily forgotten your distaste for alcohol. You tried to fight the tickle in your throat but failed, you probably ruined your lipstick with how hard you started to cough. 

He walked over to you and chuckled, taking his glass from your hands and stealing a swig. “Can’t handle your liquor, honey?”

“I can,” you wiped your mouth and gave him a playful glare. “That just tastes absolutely disgusting.” He smiled and took a seat beside you, arm draped behind you. He crossed a leg over his knee and titled himself to face you. You found yourself taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the question you were going to ask.

“Everything alright?”

You glanced down at your dress and fiddled with the hem of it. “I know the divorce was finalized a few days ago,” Cooper looked away from you, his face hardening, and reached forward to place his glass back on the table. Your heart leapt into your throat at the way he slammed it down. Maybe this was a mistake. 

You know when Barb came over to pick up Janey yesterday they’d gotten into a fight. You didn’t know what exactly it was they fought about, you’re pretty sure it had to do with you. But it didn’t truly matter. She always found a way to rile him up. You’d been hoping that coming by tonight might make him feel a little better,  but he still seemed to have a residual tenseness to him. 

Bringing the divorce up after one of their fights isn’t smart. But you need to talk about this and he’s been avoiding the conversation for a while now. 

He ran a hand down his face and sighed, “What about it?” 

“I was just wondering what that means for us?”

He scoffed and glanced over at you. The look he’s giving you, you’re certain the fight was about you now. He’s never looked this angry with you, “For us?” You nodded and he shook his head, standing up and heading towards his room. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart stuttered in your chest, eyes burning as he slammed the door to his room without another word. You let your head fall into your hands and took a few deep breaths. You knew you shouldn’t have asked that. 

“That was a mistake,” you muttered. 

“The hell are you telling yourself back there?” Your eyes peeled open and you frowned, you seemed to be looking at something that looked a hell of a lot like Cooper’s backside. You tilted your head to the side to find the world upside down and something stabbing repeatedly in your stomach. 

You clawed your way up Cooper’s jacket, shakily holding yourself up so you could stare down at him. “Settle,” he warns, like you’re a damn horse. 

“Put me down,” you mutter, weakly kicking out your feet and trying to get off of him. He just shakes his head and shoves you back down. You let him, not having much fight left in you anyway. 

“Just,” he pauses, “keep dreamin’,” the words seem to pain him and you wonder why. You don’t linger on it long, letting your head hang against his back before the world is going dark again. 

She keeps muttering Cooper in her sleep. He knows what she’s thinking about. Their old times together, when everything was just dandy and the world was as sweet as peaches. Well, he wasn’t some saint back then neither. He had his own problems, vices, same as any man. 

Only difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Doesn’t have to worry about the public’s opinion or how his job will be affected if he speaks his mind. Cooper’s no better than the Ghoul. 

He sighs, barely even believing himself. She whimpers in her sleep, the noise strangled and pained. He squeezes her leg, barely even noticing the action, in an attempt to bring some minute form of comfort. She never should have dived in front of that blade, it was stupid of her. 

Course, she couldn’t have known that he would have healed, it’s not like he ever told her that. But she shouldn’t have risked it anyway, he wasn’t worth her dying for.

He can see a large building about a mile ahead as he crests the ridge of the dune he’s walking on. The compound, nearly there. “Hold on,” he’s not sure who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter. She’s made it this far, she’ll make it a few more minutes.

“Stop right there!” Only one armed guard comes out from behind the gate of the compound. He scoffs, fucking amateurs. He drops her to the ground at his feet with as much care as he can, which isn’t a lot. Slowly, he raises his hands as the guard approaches, the tip of his rifle pressing into the hardened skin of his chest. “State your business.”

Well, someone liked making themself feel important, he was gonna have a field day beating this boy black and blue. For now, he simply smiled at him, unbothered by the gun. “I’ve got a bounty to deliver.”

“Alright, hand it over.” He reached into his pockets and the boy’s trigger finger twitched dangerously. He pulled out the only thing they’d wanted from the body, dog tags, and held them out for the boy to take. He darted forward, trying to snatch them but he yanked them out of the guard’s grip. 

He lunged, wrapping a hand around the barrel of the rifle and yanking it out of the kid’s hands. He tucked the tags back in his pocket and pointed the barrel into the boy’s chest. His face blanched and he held up his shaky hands. “Not so big now, are you?” He kept the gun trained on him and leaned down to scoop her back up. 

She was just cognizant enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, keeping herself steady. “My friend here needs help. So help me boy, I swear if you fight me, I’ll slaughter everyone in that fucking place and just take what I want.”

He poked the gun into the boy’s chest and he jumped away from him with a frightened little whimper. With a grin, he bullied him into unlocking the gate and leading the both of them inside. 

“Please-”

“Shut the fuck up and get me inside.” It didn’t take long, the kid seemed to be the only guard they had patrolling right now. He led the pair inside the compound and then shoved them inside a room. 

“Here, you can clean her up here.” Before he could say anything the boy was running down the hall and out of sight. He figured they didn’t have long before the rest of the compound was alerted to what was going on. 

He knew enough about the place to know they had a water purifier set up in the back and some odd little ditty they’d created to use water to generate power. Having a radiated ocean behind them was a lot more convenient than Cooper ever would have thought. 

“Alright,” he propped her up on the bed and threw the boy’s rifle to the side. “Wake up, darling,” her eyelashes fluttered but she didn’t move. He used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to her clammy head. Still burning up. He cracked his hand across her cheek, chuckling at the way her eyes flew open. 

“Come on,” he hoisted her up and shoved her towards the bathroom in the room. There were holes in the wall, the faucet was really a metal can with holes poked in it, but it was running water. Who was he to complain? He propped her up against the sink and cranked the odd lever in the wall. There was a loud rattling sound before water came pouring out of the rusted can. “Clean yourself up,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Barely a minute later he heard a loud crash and the sound of porcelain cracking. He ran back into the bathroom and found her half collapsed against the shower wall. What was left of the decrepit sink was broken on the ground, only the faucet sticking out of the wall. He sighed and looked over at her. 

“I fell,” she muttered, a million little cuts bleeding on her arms. 

He sighed and tugged his hat and gloves off, tossing them onto the bed outside. He came back in, pulling her away from the shower and straightening her up. She clung onto him, broken nails digging dully into his scarred arms. “Come on, sweetheart,” he tugged her shirt up, her arms slipping limply out of it. 

Her wound was practically festered by now, turning a color that he knew meant she didn’t have much time to waste. He undid the button of her pants and knelt down, hands dragging down her legs and pulling her pants with them. She stepped out, hands braced on his shoulders and tripped slightly. He grabbed her thighs, steadying her and stood back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from falling and leading her into the shower. 

She sighed as the tepid water hit her back and he grimaced at the brown water pouring off of her. Maybe he should have let her clean up in that lake. He didn’t do much to help her as she cleaned herself up, mainly just stood there and let her hold onto him so she didn’t hurt herself further. 

He cupped the back of her neck and helped her tilt her head back to clean out the rest of her hair. It was odd, being this close to her. Less because of how stark naked she was, and more because of just how vulnerable she was being. Like a deer rolling over and presenting its neck to a wolf. He could do anything to her, and she just let him hold her like this. 

She leaned forward, clearly tired after moving around so much. Her head fell into his chest and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. She sighed, “I love you, Cooper.”

He flinched, knowing this was just a part of her delirium. Having running water for once was probably just confusing her more, making her think she was right back home. He leaned forward, lips pressed against her forehead and brushing some hair back. “No you don’t, darling.”

There was a knock on the door and he was quick to draw his gun. The door opened and a middle aged woman flanked by two guards stood smiling at him. She took in the gun in his hand but seemed unbothered by it or the threat he posed. “I hear you two need some help.”

“Mhm,” he glanced at the guards behind her but they didn’t seem particularly interested in reaching for their weapons. The woman took her in from where she lay on the bed, panting and sounding like she was struggling to get her breaths in. “I have a bounty to turn in, figured part of my payment could be you giving us a Stimpak. Then, we’ll be out of your hair.”

She laughed and took a step further into the room. He stood up now, gun pointed towards her slightly. She ignored him and took a peek at the festering wound. “She’ll need a lot more than a Stimpak. We can clean her up, don’t worry.” He didn’t get a chance to argue before the guards were coming in. He stepped out of the way as they grabbed you by the arms and legs, hauling you out of the room. 

He made to follow them but the woman placed a hand on his chest. “Sylvie, I run the compound. The bounty?”

He sighed and fished the dog tags out of his pocket, passing them to her. He glanced out the door, trying to track the path they took you down. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”

He laughed and glanced over at her, “No offense, ma’am,” he says the title with a lack of respect that makes her brows furrow in irritation, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s not to trust anyone. No matter how pretty their promises are.”

She gave him a long look before smiling and motioning back towards the hall. “Follow me and we’ll go find her.”

They had a decent set up here. Not as nice as the vaults, clearly, but pretty good for surface dwellers. A decent supply of meds and rations, running water. Everything in the building might be run down or covered in mildew, with cracks in the wall, but it was better than the hovels he’d camped out in. 

They’ve got her set up on cot, a bag of Radaway hooked up to her arm and her hair braided away from her face. They had to cut out the stitches he’d sewed and open the wound back up to flush it out. She’d been patched back up and while the skin still looked irritated it seemed to be doing a lot better than before. 

He’d been keeping a close eye on her breathing and she’d finally stopped wheezing on every inhale. He figured another hour here and they could get the fuck out. These people were starting to bother him. Every half hour or so they would come in to check on her, the women would spray some water on her face and mutter something before running back out. 

He seemed to scare them, enjoying the way they would avoid meeting his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to keep them away from her. Their insistence should’ve had alarm bells going off in his head, but he was already preoccupied worrying about her. He didn’t even notice when Slyvie came to stand beside him. 

“She’ll be alright,” she tried to place a hand on his shoulder but the look he shot her had her stopping short. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and tucked her hands back behind her back. He gave her another long look before going back to staring at the girl on the bed. 

“We have a place for her here, if you’re interested.”

He scoffed, “Room for us, huh?” He let himself picture it for a moment. He wouldn’t fucking stay, of course, he couldn’t. There’s no way, after two hundred years of wandering, that he could be locked down to one decaying old building. Showers or no. But he could always come by to visit her, stay a few nights and then leave again. 

That’s assuming she’d even want him to visit. Didn’t matter, he’d come anyway. But, he couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t live that life even if it would be temporary. It just wasn’t in him. He stayed stagnant for too long and two hundred years of bloodshed and loss would drive him insane. 

Sylvie shook her head and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. We have room for her, you have to understand, without a steady supply of Radaway we can’t risk having a ghoul here.” She moved towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, “Think about it.” She walked out and he stared blankly at the cot. 

She shifted on the bed, face pained and mumbling something under her breath. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “Coop? What’s,” she trailed off, struggling to sit up and glancing around the room they were in. “What’s going on?”

“Relax, we’re at the compound.”

She rubbed her forehead and glared at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

He swatted her leg and she recoiled, “No, smartass. Just relax, we’ll be out of here soon.” She nodded and leaned back against the pillows they’d given her. It was odd, finally seeing her clean again. He could see clearly just how tired she looked. It was in her eyes, mainly, a weariness towards the world that left her exhausted. 

He’s surprised she’s even made it this far without giving up. She’d been dealt some shit luck, but he supposed it was better she be exposed to how cruel the world was as quickly as possible. She groaned and her head flopped forward. 

“What’s wrong with you now?” 

“God,” she muttered, turning her face away from him and shaking her head. He huffed and sat up straight, glaring at the side of her face. 

“Talk,” he demanded, not in the mood for games. 

“I meant it,” she sounded pained, like the words had to be forced out. “I mean, I hate that I meant it, but I did.”

He rolled his eyes, “Meant what? You’re gonna have to be a little clearer than that, sweetheart.”

“What I said in the shower. I meant it. I haven’t stopped loving you, despite how much I want to. I don’t want to want you anymore, I don’t want that connection to the past to constantly be shoved down my throat.” She sighed and tugged at the braid they’d given her. “You’re cruel and mean and, fuck’s sake, you’ve shot me twice. But you’re also the only thing I’ve got left, and despite how much I want to, because trust me I do, I can’t let you go.”

He sighed and turned away from her. She was still tired, still a bit woozy from the fever. He could see the sweat on her forehead again and knew that whatever this was, was just drug induced. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her wanting him like this again. 

Being around her already made him vulnerable enough. Whatever twisted connection he held to her now, would be nothing compared to letting her love him again. Two hundred years on his own and she thought she could just come barreling back into his life and everything would be lovely again?

No, that’s not how this world worked. Not anymore. 

He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get back to sleep, we’ll leave soon.”

She sighed and sank back against the pillows, shivering as she did so. “You’ll be here?”

“Of course I will, sweetheart.” She nodded, eyes already drifting shut, and turned away from him. He let himself admire her, taking in her relaxed features and soft expression. She reminded him so much of before. Before the world went to shit and before he turned into what he is now. 

He could feel parts of him, the ones he’d buried a long time ago, come up around her. Twisted as they were, how he felt about her before still lingered somewhere within him. But he couldn’t afford the risk that they presented if he did let her back in. He wasn’t even sure she could fully handle him if he did. 

She’d nearly died about five times, most of them because of him, and she’d been up here for such a short time. She’d be better off without him. He walked towards the door, the spurs of his boots clicking against the tile of the floor. He found Sylvie lurking a few halls down and whistled, getting her attention. 

Sylvie turned to him with an expectant smile. “You got room?”

She nodded with an eager smile, “We do. And you’d be compensated, of course.” Before he could question what exactly she was paying him for she snapped her fingers and some guards approached. They handed him a bag that he quickly rifled through. Not only was there enough Radaway to last him at least a month, there was purified water and rations that would keep him going until the next bounty. 

She’ll be better off here. 

He tucked the bag away and smiled at Sylvie, “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”

She gave him a lecherous grin, “You as well,” she nodded and the guards escorted him to the gate. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he’d just want to go get her. At least now he didn’t have to constantly worry about saving her ass. 

He was better off on his own. Always had been, always would be. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[hunterofartemis7]

Pt.3

Damian: *sits on their bed* so, what did you need to speak about?

Raven: *makes the room sound proof* I told Alfred about the baby

Damian: why?

Raven: I was feeling sick and it kinda slipped out. But he promised to keep it a secret

Damian: I’m not worried about Pennyworth keeping his mouth shut. He’s proven he can keep a secret

Raven: and your siblings can’t?

Damian: beloved they will spill that information the first chance they get.

Raven: and why is that bad exactly? I know we agreed not to say anything yet but…I don’t like lying to my friends

Damian: cause I don’t want the public to know yet, and as soon as we tell the others, they will fuck up and let it slip that your pregnant

Raven: who cares if the public knows!

Damian: I feel you forgot who my family is. This will be the first grandchild of Bruce Wayne and my siblings first niece or nephew, the news will lose their shit when they hear about it. Remember how they reacted to finding out we were dating

Raven:…yeah..we couldn’t get a moment’s peace

Damian: exactly. And not that I care, but the amount of people who will have an issue with us having a baby out of wedlock will be very overwhelming for you.

Raven: why would they care? It doesn’t affect them.

Damian: some people just suck like that beloved

Raven: so what happens when I start showing?

Damian: than well announce it, but I’d like to avoid the chaos as long as possible

Raven:……😞😣 *tears up*

Damian: Beloved? *gets up and hugs her close* what’s wrong?

Raven: i wanna tell Kori..😖 *crying into his chest*

Damian: *rubs her back* *feels like a jackass for making her upset*

*outside the room*

Tim: ya hear anything?

Dick: nope

Jason: wait hang on…….i think I can hear crying?

Tim: Crying? Like Damian or Raven crying?

Jason: Raven obviously. You know the demon don’t cry

Dick: why do you think she’s crying?

Tim: maybe they broke up?

Jason: hell no

Tim: you gotta better idea?

Jason:….……Damian broke something of hers

Dick: as if. That would never happen

[bookuce]

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it. 

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv Morgan, Austin, is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE.*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 1,827

PART TWO

PART THREE

“Say, I have a question for you,” Austin says, giving Alina a bright smile. She smiles back at him, a sign of friendliness. 

“What’s up?” She asks.

“How does one manage to be as beautiful as you? I mean, you are stunning, whew!” He exclaims. Alina giggles softly at the compliment. She places her arm on the back of the couch, propping herself up on it. 

“That’s really sweet to say, Austin, thank you.” She grins.

“No, thank you for blessing me with your presence. I can end the night now knowing I got to talk to you.” She rolls her eyes at his words. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to do and why he suddenly took interest in her, but who was she to be rude? They’ve talked a few times in passing, but it was never for long. “We should get you on UpUpDownDown.” He says. She immediately begins to shake her head.

“I don’t really play video games. I’ve never been good at them.” She answers honestly. To let her come on the show would be a waste of time. She also wasn’t comfortable embarrassing herself like that in front of several people. She has watched a few episodes and knew it was a fun show, but her participating? Not happening. 

“I doubt you’re as bad as you say you are.” He assures her. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” She promises. “I am terrible at games.”

Jon still had an amused grin on his face while he watched the two talk. This man is stupid, he thought. Either Austin was crazy, or he didn’t care. Shit, probably both. “That man is going to kill his ass,” Jon mutters to Trinity.

“That’s on him.” She says, not looking up from her phone. “He warned him.” Jon looks up, catching the moment Josh pauses in his tracks at seeing Austin and Alina talking. 

The eldest twin taps his wife’s thigh. “Look, look, look…” He points in Josh’s direction. This was going to be good.

Josh was happily on his way with Alina’s drink until he saw Austin had done the opposite of what he told him. They were sitting close, too close for his liking, and they seemed deep in conversation. Alina would smile at him, and Austin would smile back.

Nothing he says could be worth smiling over like that, he thought. Josh glances down at the drinks in his hand. Just go over there and give her her drink. He’ll move. Don’t cause a scene. It’s nothing, he tells himself.

If jealousy could kill, Josh would be dead ten times over. He craved the attention that everyone else got from Alina. The way she smiles at them, the way she talks to them. He wanted her to do the same to him. Instead, she’s awkward and quiet at times. That was frustrating to him. She never really hints at what goes on in her head. It made him question whether or not he should even feel how he felt. Then he’d see her trying with guys and failing, and it would make him feel some way. He just wanted to make her happy. 

Josh sniffles, quickly regaining composure. He resumes his stride over to the group. When he approaches, he holds Alina’s drink out between the chatting pair. He was purposely blocking Austin’s view of her face. Alina turns to look up at him. “Ay, I got your drink.” He says, his eyes fixated on the guy next to her. Alina slowly takes the drink from him.

“Thank you, Josh…” She says. 

“No problem.” He says quickly, now slowly swaying from left to right, a sign of impatience.

Alina continued to stare at him, but he would never meet her gaze. No, he was watching Austin, who was smirking at him. “You gonna sit down, Uce?” Jon asks, leaning forward. The elder twin was ready to jump up to stop his brother from doing anything stupid. 

“Nah, I’m good.” He says, not breaking his glare. “You good, Uce?” He asks Austin. That was him telling Austin to move. Here he goes, Alina thought. She finally looks away from him, her lips touching the brim of her cup. She slowly tilts the cup back, drinking the cup full with no breaks.  It’s going to be a long night. Austin scoffs slightly, his smile still intact. 

“You got it.” He says finally, putting his hands up in defeat. He moves back into his previous spot. Josh moves to sit down in his seat. 

“Was that necessary?” Alina asks.

He reaches down, grabbing her legs and pulling them between his own. “Yep.” Alina probably shouldn’t have giggled, but the two mixed drinks she shotgunned and tequila shots were beginning to creep up on her. He shouldn’t grab her like that.

“And who are you supposed to be?” She asks. Josh doesn’t answer her. Instead, he takes a swig of the beer in his hand. She places two fingers on his left cheek, forcing him to look at her. She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for a response. One never came. “That’s what I thought.” She drops her hand from his face. They would exchange stares until Josh would glance down at her lips. Lina would suck in a deep breath before inevitably looking away. He shouldn’t look at her like that. “Well, I want another drink.” She mutters to herself. “Who wants drinks?” She asks. 

“I do,” Austin chimes in. 

Alina moves to stand but is pulled back down to Josh. She plops into his lap, a gasp leaving her lips as she does so. He really shouldn’t grab her like that. “Nah, get someone else to do it.” He says. Alina’s brows furrow at him before she reaches down to remove his hand from her thigh. 

“Please, go to hell.” She says, prying his hand off of her. 

“Or I can go with you to the bar. How about that?” When she stands, so does he. She doesn’t argue with him, but she does roll her eyes. Alina turned her attention to the group again, only to find them staring at the pair. They weren’t sure what they were seeing. Was it fighting, flirting, or some sick combination of both? “Drinks?” She asks, gesturing to everyone.

“Get me another beer, Uce,” Jon says.

“Vodka Cran for me.” Orders Trinity.

“Two more shots of tequila.” Gionna requests.

“I’ll have a beer too.” Austin adds. 

Alina steps around the couch, marching over to the bar. Josh follows behind her, leaving the group once more. Everyone exchanged glances at each other after the exchange. “They get like this every time they drink together,” Jon says, shaking his head. “How long before they fight and get us kicked out?” He asks, looking at Trinity.

“Depends. How many fruity drinks have Alina had?” She asks. It was always the fruity drinks that got poor Alina. 

“Just one so far.” Gionna answers. 

“It’s that bad?” Austin asks.

“Yes, fool!” Jon exclaims. “That’s why I said leave her alone! Them folks are crazy!” Alina and Josh, with alcohol in their systems, are a match made in Hell. Josh had been drinking since before Alina got to the club. The beer in his hand was his seventh. He had about three more in him before he was at the point of no return. Alina was on her third mixed drink, two of which were fruity. The tequila shots would bring her up to five drinks in total. She swears she has a high tolerance for alcohol, much like Josh does, but doesn’t. Neither of them do.

Separately, they were fine, but together? It’s a whole other story. 

Josh follows behind Alina, his pace slower than hers. To him, it seemed she was trying to put space between them. She would tell him he was correct if he had to assume out loud. She shouldn't be turned on by the way he was acting tonight, but here she was, practically foaming at the mouth. Alina makes it to the bar, eyes fixated on the alcohol on the wall before her. The bartender would immediately come to her, ready to take her order. “One tequila sunrise, three beers, and a Vodka Cran.” Alina orders. She turns to Josh, who’s watching her. “I’m forgetting something.”

“Gigi’s shots.” He answers.

“Oh, right! And two tequila shots!” She says, turning to the bartender. The bartender walks away, leaving the couple alone. Josh placed his beer on the bar top and leaned in towards Alina.

“You look good.” He tells her. 

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay.” 

 “Here you go.” He huffs, shaking his head at her. 

“What do you want me to say? Thank you?”

“Uh, yes? That’s the normal thing to say to compliments, Alina.”

She wasn’t much of a compliments person. It makes her feel like someone wants something from her when she hears them. The people pleaser in her would forever deliver even when she didn’t want to. “Thank you, Joshua.” She says finally.

“You’re trying to be funny.”

“I said thank you!” She says, laughing. Josh places his hand on the barstool behind Alina, blocking her in. After a bit of silence, she turns to him. “You look good too.” She says, leaning into him. The bartender put out her tequila sunrise, and she immediately grabbed it. 

Josh glances down at his appearance. “Do I?” She nods. “I put this on for you.” He jokes. Alina would take a sip of her drink, humming softly at it. “Is it good?” Josh asks, leaning into her again. 

“Yeah, taste it.” She brings her glass to his lips, all while still holding his gaze. Her stare always made him weak in the knees. All she had to do was look at him, and Josh was under her command. He’d part his lips slightly, allowing the rim of the glass to touch his lips. She’d tilt it back, letting the orange liquid touch his tongue. The taste of Orange Juice came and went quickly. All that was left behind was the strong taste of tequila. Josh pulls his head back. “Yeah?” She asks, lowering her drink.

“Nah,” He says quickly, shaking his head. “That drink is strong as hell.” They both start to laugh. God, they were drunk. Alina leans into his arms, burying her face in his chest. His hand would move from the chair and touch her back. That touch was the catalyst for what was to come. His fingertips would trace her spine, sending shivers along her body. She’d arch towards him, lifting her head to look at him. They were very close, their noses almost touching.

“You shouldn’t touch me like that.” She whispers.

“My bad.” He whispers back. His hand would curl against the small of her back, now closing and opening in a scratching manner. She shakily breathes, her head tilting down to break his gaze. “Lina.” He calls to her.

Ah, fuck it, Alina thought as she pulled his face to hers in a bruising kiss. 

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

A/N: So y'all blew the first and second parts of this up...that's cool lol.

Thank you to everyone who is reading this so far! I really do appreciate all the kindness and support I am receiving! It means a lot to me!

Stay tuned for part four!

🏷️list: @paigereeder @wrestlingprincess80 @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @trashbin-nie @meannaim @siriuslycee

[beatopia-films]

FARMERS DAUGHTER part iii !

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings : strong language, mentions of vomit, tattoos and cuteness !

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the last thing y/n expected was matt sturniolo asking her to hang out. despite never hanging out with a boy alone before, she agreed but getting her dad to agree was the difficult part.

growing up in a strict household was hard. yes, y/n was close to her family but sometimes it all felt like it was too much. sure she’d had crushes before but nothing ever happened.

matt would be coming to pick her up in about 2 hours and she still hasn’t asked her dad for permission to go out with him.

“hey, dad.” she slowly walked up to him with a smile on her face.

“hey honey, everything okay?” he responded, his attention going to the tv.

y/n took a deep breath in before continuing. “can i go out tonight?” she asked.

her dad gave her a confused look, “with who?” he questioned, watching the tv again.

“well, his name is matt. he came by the other day with his brothers.” y/n blushed at the thought of that day.

“oh, i see.” he nodded in response. “the one with tattoos?” y/n’s face dropped. he was not going to let her hang out with him.

“yes but he’s really sweet!” she argued, attempting to make a valid point. “please, dad. i’m begging you! i’ve never asked for anything like this before.” she continued.

her dad let out a frustrated sigh, “you know how i feel about these things.” he told his daughter. “but…..i’ll allow it.”

“thank you so so much!” y/n smiled excitedly, giving her dad a hug before running upstairs to get changed. “i will literally clean the stables in return.” she said in a positive tone.

“i’ll keep that in mind, don’t worry.” he laughed, knowing that his daughter would definitely refuse once the time came.

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y/n looked in the mirror at her baby blue dress covered in little flowers and the brown cowboy boots she wore. she was very happy with her outfit and couldn’t wait to see matt.

a couple minutes passed and there was no sign of him. had she been stood up? her heart was racing at the anticipation, she desperately hoped he was stuck in traffic.

it was like the universe was listening to her because all of a sudden she heard the doorbell ring. she quickly dived off her bed and rushed downstairs to open the door.

“hey.” she smiled, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as they made eye contact.

“hi.” matt replied, his mouth slightly open. she looked absolutely beautiful. “you look really pretty.” he told her honestly, trying his best to act normal.

“thanks.” y/n’s smile grew. “i really like your shirt.” she said, pointing at the band shirt he was wearing. it read “the cure.”

“oh, thanks.” he nodded at her. “you like the cure?” matt asked, attempting to keep the conversation going.

her eyes lit up, “yes! i love the cure.” she then pulled out her phone to show him her phone case which was the iconic photo of robert smith on stage with his guitar.

“holy shit, that’s so cool.” matt told her, getting a closer look at it.

y/n put her phone away before looking up at him. “so, where are we going?” she asked.

“well, i was thinking i could drive us to get something to eat and then we could do whatever.” he explained.

“okay but i get aux!” y/n called out first, already making her way to his car.

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“so, how many tattoos do you have?” y/n asked, looking over at him as he drove.

“to be completely honest. i lost count.” he let out a small laugh, keeping his eyes on the road. “what about you? any tattoos?”

“just one.” she shrugged her shoulders. his eyes widened in response. that was unexpected. “for real?” he questioned.

“yeah. it’s only little but don’t tell my dad.” she laughed, imagining her dad’s reaction.

“does he not like tattoos?” matt asked her, the car then coming to a stop at a red light.

“well, let’s just say he almost didn’t let me come out because of your tattoos.” y/n said, pointing to his sleeve of them.

“should i like…get rid of them or something?” he spoke in an unsure tone.

she laughed at his words, “no, i think they look cool.” she complimented.

matt blushed slightly, “so how’s ronald doing?” he quickly changed the subject.

“he’s literally been throwing up for weeks.” y/n shook her head humorously. “it’s so gross but he’s getting there.”

“poor little guy.” matt empathized with the goat after what his brother did. “next time we come over, i’ll make sure chris isn’t allowed to feed the animals.” he kept a note in his mind.

matt then pulled into the fast food place and found a parking spot before they went inside to get something to eat.

“is there anything specific you’d like?” he turned to face the girl.

“i’m in the mood for some pizza actually.” she told him as he nodded, ordering a margarita pizza for the two of them to share.

“i don’t mind splitting it.” y/n quickly stopped him from paying. he looked over at her as if she was crazy. “absolutely not, i’m paying.” he immediately rejected her deal.

y/n felt bad for letting matt pay for the meal so she kept a mental note to pay him back to right amount of money.

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INSTAGRAM POST !

❤️ 💬 ➤

liked by user82 and 3,927 others

sturniolo.updates matt was spotted with y/n, a farm girl who was featured in their recent video. they were seen at a fast food place smiling with each other. apparently they looked very cozy ♥️

view all comments

user19 WHAT NO

user93 absolutely not

user not the farm girl 💀💀

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TAGLIST

@jnkvivi @sturniololvrrr @iluvmattsbeard @bxtchboy69 @cheesesoda @mattyb4dominicans @hearteyesformatt @stasiesturn @nathandoesgf @franticroads @larnieboox88 @e1ias3 @sturniolosarethebest @sturnish @cdbabymp3 @sturnzsblog @unbruisable @nsjsnshey @mattybslover

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Seven: The GoverMint

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: Two men bring you into custody and some new information comes to light. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventually more smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 2.1k

"What? Never had mornin’ wood before, Smoothie?” The Ghoul snickers as you shake your head in confusion. While yes, it’s a fairly natural thing to occur, you weren’t exactly expecting to see his hard-on first thing.

"Alright, love birds,” the man starts, causing both of you to glare at him. “Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal 'round these parts.”

You exchange a quick glance with The Ghoul, both of you clearly annoyed by the man calling you ‘love birds’. "First of all, we are not together. And - will you please adjust yourself, Beef Jerky - second of all, this... was a legitimate business? Says who?” you ask, gesturing vaguely around the room as The Ghoul rolls his eyes and slowly covers himself with his hat.

"The government," the man proudly declares before abruptly striking The Ghoul in the face with his rifle.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's not get crazy here," you interject, raising your hands in protest, realizing that two against one isn't a smart choice at the moment. Your head is throbbing from the alcohol you drank the night before, leaving you in no condition to fight back.

“Don’t worry, miss. Your husband is okay, but you two gotta face justice,” the man replies. You huff a frustrated sigh at the continued assumption that you two are a couple. Looking the man over, you notice a crudely made sheriff badge with the name Troy etched onto it.

“May I call you Troy?” you ask, pointing to his badge. He gives you a smile, indicating it’s okay. “Now, Troy, this man right here isn’t my husband. We are just traveling companions who happened to come across this already destroyed business.”

Troy sighs, “We ain’t stupid, ma’am. We gotta bring ya both in. Rex!” He shouts at the other man, “Tie ‘em up and we’ll move out once that one wakes back up.”

Shortly after, The Ghoul wakes up and the four of you are on the move towards the supposed government. You keep stealing glances at him, hoping for any sign of a plan, but he remains silent and focused on the path ahead. The restraints around your wrists chafe against your skin, causing irritation. These two men seem dumb as hell but the one sure knows how to use rope.

Finally, the four of you approached a building sporting a sign that proudly proclaims "The GoverMint”. The Ghoul shot you a glance, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes in exasperation. The sight of the misspelled sign only reinforced your growing realization that you were dealing with a bunch of idiots. The building itself appeared run-down and neglected, a stark contrast to the grandeur one might expect from an actual government facility. The paint was peeling, the windows were dirty, and the overall atmosphere exuded an air of disarray. As you were escorted inside by Troy and Rex, you couldn't shake the feeling that this whole situation was more absurd than dangerous.

"Well, shit!" a hefty man exclaims, sitting at a table with a plate of food. "I heard it was a ghoul that messed up that Super Duper Mart. Nobody told me it was the ghoul."

"Why, Sorrel Booker," The Ghoul smirks.

You silently mouth to The Ghoul, "You know this guy?"

"You boys know who you just brought in? This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass," Sorrel chuckles as the two men usher you to sit in front of him. "Kids these days don’t know their goddamn history."

"Say, you got a needle and thread?” The Ghoul casually asks. “I think I got some in my bag, actually. Would you mind?"

Sorrel hesitates for a moment, eyeing him, but ultimately nods his head. Troy hands over the needle and thread, and The Ghoul's restraints are untied. With a calm demeanor, he picks up a perfectly cut finger and begins sewing it onto his missing one. You can't help but watch in disbelief, your mouth agape, trying to make sense of the bizarre scene unfolding before you. What the fuck is happening right now?

"Whose finger is that?!" You blurt out unintentionally, causing silence to take over the room.

Sorrel takes a good look at you as he spits out a piece of meat and puts it in a bowl labeled 'cysts’, turning his attention to the man next to you. “200 years. I don’t know what keeps you going. Maybe you just like the feeling of that good old California sunshine on your wrinkly-ass face. Or maybe you’re still looking for her. Maybe not though... this your girlfriend or somethin’?"

"You really think I’d shack up with some smoothskin? She ain’t even that pretty.” The Ghoul retorts, ignoring your offended look as he scrunches his newly sewn finger to make sure it's functional. “And I sure as hell ain't still alive so that I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself."

“Mind your fucking mouth. That’s the president of the government you’re talking to.” Troy speaks up.

“Oh, you’re president now?” He raises a brow, “In that case, I am hearing a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver. They call her the Flame Mother.”

This new information about a woman catches you off guard, as it's the first time you've heard about her on this journey. While the two men continue their conversation, you find yourself racking your brain as the mention of Moldaver triggers a memory in your mind. You vaguely recall whispers in the air about a woman who leads a group of people up in the mountains. Tension begins to build in the room as you find yourself deep in thought, analyzing her possible connection to the bounty you were originally after. You notice a shift in the dynamics between the men after The Ghoul taunts Troy about killing his father in Filly. It seems to have struck a nerve and Rex is ordered to take away Troy's weapons.

“Take him out back and feed him to the hogs,” Sorrel's harsh order snaps you out of your thoughts. "And this one might be good for the local brothel."

"Oh, hell no," you mutter as Troy pulls you up to take you away. Determined to fight back, you struggle to release yourself from his grasp, refusing to be taken without a fight. Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, causing chaos in the room. The Ghoul, seizing an opportunity, managed to grab Rex’s pistol and shot him.

With the distraction, you act quickly. In a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, you headbutt Troy, feeling the sharp pain of impact, and then tackle him to the ground. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions and a fierce desire for survival, you unleash a flurry of tied fists striking his face repeatedly. Blood splatters across your face as you continue to pummel him. He’s surely dead by now but you can't stop - there is no way you are going to a brothel against your will.

Feeling a warm hand touch your shoulder, you are startled out of your frenzy. Looking up, you lock eyes with The Ghoul, who is standing over you with a small crooked smile playing on his lips. There is a glint of amusement in his gaze, as if he is savoring this violent side of you. His presence and subtle expression of approval offer a strange sense of validation for you.

“Goddamn it,” Sorrel exclaims in frustration, throwing his fork onto the table. As you slowly rise from the man you just bludgeoned to death, The Ghoul starts untying the rope around your wrists. Despite gloves covering his hands again, you find solace in his gentle touch as he works to release you from your bindings. Once finished, he strides over to the wall littered with wanted posters and tears off a sketch of a woman.

“I got one question for you, ol’ buddy. Why do you have this picture on your wall?” The Ghoul inquires, holding up the sketch.

“That’s Moldaver. Why?” Sorrel responds, a sense of curiosity evident in his voice.

“Well, that’s not how I remember her, is all,” He remarks cryptically.

“Yeah? Well, how do you remember her?”

The Ghoul doesn’t say a word and without further explanation he leads you both outside. The two of you stand facing each other in silence. He lets out a sigh and reaches for a dirty rag in his pocket, handing it to you without a word. You take it and begin to clean yourself up but it’s proves pointless as it’s just smearing the blood all over.

"Well, that didn't do shit," he remarks as he takes the rag back from you. His gaze scans the area until he spots a barrel of grimy water, prompting him to grab you by the base of your hair and drag you over to it. As he dunks your face into the water, you shout in protest, the shock of the cold liquid causing you to react instinctively. He lifts your head up and looks at you, his expression unreadable.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Do you just like waterboarding women in your free time?!" you yell angrily, spitting excess water onto his face.

"You're clean now," he states simply as he gestures to the now wet and cleansed skin on your face. “Come on, let’s get goin’.”

“Wait, you still want me around?” you question, surprised by his response.

“I saw you back there. Proved useful,” he acknowledges, wiping the spit off his face with a nonchalant expression. He starts walking away, and you instinctively follow his lead, the rhythm of his steps guiding you away from the ‘government’.

Trailing behind him for most of the day, you're left with nothing but the echo of your dream still etched in your mind. The surreal scene of a nuclear explosion as he touched you intimately felt oddly real, even in its absurdity. Your eyes study his form, his posture, the way he moves - every detail etching itself into your consciousness. He dunked you in cold, murky water, and yet here you are, daydreaming what it might actually feel like to have his body pressed against you.

Unknown to you, The Ghoul is wrestling with his own inner turmoil. The dream he experienced replays in his mind like a haunting loop, stirring up emotions he'd rather keep buried. He finds himself irrationally angry with you for making him feel so vulnerable, even though he knows it was just a dream. His mind is now filled with thoughts of you - the curves of your body, the softness of your lips, the gentle touch of your hands.

He feels the weight of your gaze on him, and it unnerves him more than he'd like to admit. His fingers clench tighter around the hunting knife hanging on his belt, a physical manifestation of the internal struggle he's experiencing. He doesn't dare glance back at you, afraid that the turmoil in his eyes might give away more than he intends.

"Will you stop starin'?" His abrupt words cut through the tension, causing you to freeze in your tracks. Embarrassment washes over you as you realize he's aware of your lingering gaze. Attempting to play it off nonchalantly, you open your mouth to respond, but only incoherent sputtering and mumbled words escape. He turns to face you, an intense gaze piercing you like a bullet.

“I am not staring,” you manage to assert, a hint of defensiveness in your tone. “I’m just focused on the path ahead.”

“Listen up, Smoothie. I ain't keepin' you 'round 'cause we're best buds. It's 'cause you're damn good at spillin' blood. So don't be gettin' any ideas about you and me sharin' heartfelt moments or takin' strolls in the wasteland." He snaps.

“What the fuck are you going on about?” You laugh, but then a realization dawns on you. "Oh, hang on.… Am I the reason your 'little friend' made an appearance this morning?"

“Now what do you mean litt-“ He cuts himself off abruptly, “Don’t flatter yourself, Smoothie. I ain’t one for sentimentality or... entanglements.”

A small smile begins to tug at the corners of your lips, a reaction that visibly irks him, his annoyance evident in the way his features tighten. You can’t tell if he's contemplating strangling you or something even worse. Either way, there's a subtle thrill in knowing that you're the reason he’s so worked up. You approach him with a spring in your step and pat his chest, earning a fierce glare in return.

"Don't fret, sweetheart," you grin, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you use the endearing term, "I'll just pretend this never happened. Now, how about we find a spot to camp for the night?"

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @cheshirecat484 @capan-deveraux2 @rebelmarylou

[anarchiii]

The Shadowsinger’s lover-1 —ACOTAR AU

Part one | warnings: fluff, swearing if you squint | Azriel x Rhys!sister

Summary; Rhys’ sister comes home, finally, and the the new members of the inner circle are surprised to learn that she (we are gonna call her ‘Selene’) and Azriel are Mates and have been for over two hundred years.

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist

✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰ ✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰ ✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰ ✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰

Selene’s POV

To say she was missing home was an understatement, she’d been gone for sixty-five years, she wanted to go home and see her mate and see her brother again, she’d heard what had happened in the fifty-years she’d been gone. How and what her brother had sacrificed for his court and his family. She’d been gone far longer than she’d expected but she’d had a job to do, she was second in command to the general, she worked side by side with the Lord of Bloodshed and was one of his closest allies and friends, not to mention that she was mated to his brother in arms. So she was basically his sister.

While Cassian controlled all of the Night Court’s armies, he had constructed his own group of formidable warriors, it included Cassian—of course—Azriel, Her and two others, all of them in the bane—Rhys named it—had Siphons of various colours. Her’s being purple, Cassian’s being red and her mate’s being blue. The other’s being a deep pink and white.

Selene had been working in a camp near UDM, she and her team had been studying all the creatures Amarantha had created and converting them to be on their side, it was a tedious, tricky and dangerous job but it helped immensely in the war and any battles they found themselves fighting in. Selene had been fighting in the recent war. Just in a different area.

Once she reached Velaris she made it to the House of Wind, it was a shame she didn’t have her wings anymore, she could’ve easily flown up there in minutes, she banished that thought before it had time to fully develop, Selene had been walking for days to get here. A recent battle in the swamps had left her magic drained. Meaning she couldn’t winnow, she let out a sigh before making her way up the steps to the house, this was going to be a while.

✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰ ✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰

Sweating and breathing heavily, Selene collapsed onto the ground, she seriously needed to work out more.

A throat cleared nearby and she looked up from where her face had been resting on the concrete floor. It seems she had interrupted a training session if the shirtless men and sweaty women were any indication. “Heyyy guys” she said breathlessly, she only recognised two of the people there, her general and her mate, speaking of, Azriel walked over to her and grabbed her hand. Pulling her up and into his chest. “I didn’t know you were coming” he said into her head, “I swear-” panting, “I told you guys I was coming” holy shit. She needed to run more. This was embarrassing how much she was gasping for air, it didn’t matter if she had climbed 15,000 steps or whatever amount it was. He mate did this every week and didn’t break a sweat.

“Let’s get you inside, okay?” “Okay”

She sheepishly smiled at Cassian and the woman he was training with, Selene could already tell that she did not want to mess with the sharp faced, fiery eyed fae, “I missed you” Azriel said to her, sadness and loneliness showing in his whiskey eyes. “I’m sorry, Azzie, I didn’t mean to be this long. I’m here now. okay?” Her mate nodded and softly pressed his lips to hers, they both shared a smile, —one that was only used when they were alone—she brushed the silky black hair from his face. Brushing her finger down his cheek slowly. “Tell me”

So he did.

Azriel sat his wife down and told her everything that had happened while she’d been gone, a lot, apparently, had happened.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you” Selene said sorrowfully, “it’s fine, don’t beat yourself up over it, your here now anyway” he said back with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

-

For the next few hours, Selene and Azriel laid in each others arms, bare, from the catching up they had partaken in, as she lay there. Her face in the crook of his neck. She made a silent vow to never spend so long away again.

The End.

✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰ ✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰-✰

Note: I’ve had this in my head for a while and i finally got off my ass and decided to do it, there will be more parts to this in time, thanks for reading, I really appreciate it.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 10

Just a little metal band Steve while the poll for what do with boy w/a bat and werewolf Steve is ongoing. Here if you want to vote.

Corroded Coffin is almost done with their album when the shit hits the fan and Eddie soothes away some of Steve's insecurities (and accidentally creates one more.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

****

Eddie was grateful that with the album ninety-eight percent done the label had released Jeff and him from their jail sentence so that they could go out and be people again. Brian had also been released for good behavior, but Dr. Owens suggested that Gareth stay away from the booze and parties for awhile, so Gareth had chosen to continue the exile willingly.

So to say he was excited to see Steve without all that shit hanging over his head. It was like a rare cool breeze against his skin on a hot summer’s day.

He got a table at the bar he told Steve to meet him at and ordered their drinks. He looked around the room as his knee began to bounce. He didn’t think Steve would stand him up. Steve wasn’t like that. But what if something happened? What the new studio they got was in New York or London or Chicago? How could he suggest that to Steve? He nee–

A warm hand touched his shoulder and all anxiety vanished as Steve murmured his hello.

Steve tapped the center of his forehead as he sat down. “What’s going on inside that head of yours? I can tell you’re spiraling, you’ve got this wide-eyed panicked look to you.”

Eddie rubbed his forehead and pouted. “Everything.”

Steve sighed and tenderly took his hand. He brought it up his lips and kissed each knuckle separately.

“The music business isn’t a forgiving industry at the best of times,” he murmured gently. “But it’s really rough on relationships. All kinds of relationships. Family, friends, lovers. But you’ve got me, okay?”

Eddie let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“So tell me about your day,” he said with a slightly crooked smile. “You talk to Robin and your friends?”

Steve looked around the bar and nodded. “Robin says she’s working on the change of scenery, but she’s not sure how long it’s going to take. As for the other thing... we’re split down the middle. Me and Spence want June, while Simon and Shane want January.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Why the split?”

“Spence and I have hope we can get the,” he lowered his voice, “album,” he raised his voice again, “done and want the time to finish it. While the other two are clawing at the walls, chomping at the bit, and just begging for a chance to travel again.”

Eddie sighed. “I’m sorry, Stevie. We’re pretty much into editing portion of the album and agreeing on the song order. But we can tour whenever. That’s the best part about being us. We can take six months to do five shows if we wanted to and our fans would eat it up. But if your guys want to wait until next summer, then we can do that. If your guys want to leave right after the New Year, fuck we can do that too.”

Steve sighed. “The record label is just pushing us to the limits and I think even Robin is beginning to crack. First there was the mix up with our contracts then this new thing, plus the touring and everything else. It’s a lot put on her and she’s starting to go mad.”

“They like to do that, unfortunately,” Eddie agreed. “I know Celeste is a good manager, but I think that The Fallen could use an actual agent, someone to take the load off of her back.”

Steve chewed his lip. “But won’t they have to be brought in on the secret if The Fallen were to get an agent?”

“Not if you don’t want them to,” Eddie said with a shrug. “A lot people use stage names they have to have contracts. So...” he waved his hand. “I’m assuming Celeste has control of all the fiddly business stuff for each member of the band?”

Steve shrugged. “Pretty much I guess.”

“They could work through Celeste if the band doesn’t want them to know,” Eddie said with another shrug. “But I recommend bringing them in. They can’t put out fires if they don’t know there’s more than just smoke.”

Steve rubbed his bottom lip. “Yeah...I don’t know. I’m not in the band so I couldn’t say for sure, I’m only a lowly peon.”

“Maybe, but they trust you,” Eddie scoffed. “Look I get that you don’t feel like you think the band can trust someone else with this, but agents are there to protect the band. They could lose all their business if they went around blabbing shit about their clients.”

“Maybe they should just get yours,” Steve joked. “Who is it?”

“Nancy Wheeler.”

The color drained from Steve’s face and he shook his head. “We’ll find someone else. I don’t–can’t trust her with a secret that big.”

Eddie tilted his head to side as he considered Steve’s odd reaction.

“Oh shit.”

Steve laughed weakly. “Yeah, oh shit.”

Nancy was another one of Hawkins High’s alums. Bright and powerful, smart and capable. Steve could see why Corroded Coffin had gone with her. Only he couldn’t trust her to hand him a knife, much less a secret as big as this one.

They had dated before she decided that he wasn’t ambitious enough for her and dumped him for Jonathan Byers. But not before cheating on him with the guy first.

Nancy had stabbed Steve in the back once, he had no desire to give her the ammunition to do it again.

Eddie paid for their drinks, and then took his hand to lead him outside. He pulled them into a small alleyway, barely big enough to fit them both, where they would have some privacy.

Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together, letting their breaths mingle. Steve’s fast and panicked, Eddie’s slow and calm.

Eventually Steve’s breaths matched Eddie’s and Eddie sealed their lips together.

“You’re okay, baby,” he soothed. “I’ve got you. You’re safe in my hands. You know that right?”

Steve gasped, taking in air as if coming up from the bottom of a vast lake and break the water for the first time.

Eddie combed his fingers through Steve’s hair as the other man fought to get his emotions under control.

Steve let out one more shuddering breath and Eddie smiled. “There you are. I was getting worried for a moment there, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Opening up our secret to other people is always terrifying, but Nancy? That’s monster level dread right there.”

Eddie continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. “I understand that, but do know what would happen if she did that? She wouldn’t just lose you as a client, she would lose her whole catalogue of clients. Corroded Coffin included. And not just because of who we are to each other. It would be such a serious breech of confidentiality that she would literally be scorch earth’ing her whole career.”

Steve let out a long breath. He knew that objectively. He knew that she also could just not take him as a client. Decide that The Fallen wasn’t worth the risk.

“What if we sent in Robin as Celeste Baptiste and see what she thinks?” Eddie suggested. “You know Robin’s instinct is killer. It’s why she’s such a good manager. Or even better, why doesn’t Robin meet with Chrissy and have Chrissy go over agents with her and see what Robin thinks? That okay?”

Steve smiled and brought their lips together. “You take such good care of me, Eds. I love you so much.”

“Back ‘atcha, pretty boy.”

Eddie’s phone rang and he picked it up.

“‘Ello?”

He pinched his nose and sighed. “Yeah. How long?”

There was brief pause as he listened to the other person on the line.

“I’ll check Mancharo’s and El Dios and you check out that strip of bars a few blocks south of the hotel.”

Again he listened, his brows furrowing deeper.

“Then I’ll just hit up El Dios and let you know if I find him,” Eddie muttered and then hung up.

“Fuck!”

Steve rubbed the wrinkles between Eddie’s nose until his pinched expression soften.

“That was Jeff,” Eddie murmured when he was calm enough. “Gareth stormed out of his therapy session today and hasn’t been seen since. They thought he was in his room, but when they checked, he was gone.”

Steve ran his hands up and down Eddie’s arms soothingly. “I’m sorry, Eds. Do you want me to go with you?”

Eddie wanted to answer yes, but if Gareth saw Steve he would absolutely pitch the biggest bitch fit outside of literal toddlers.

“Nah,” he murmured instead. “You’ve had a rough day. I’ll call you when I have news, okay?”

Steve nodded. “I love you, babe.”

“Back ‘atcha, darlin’.”

Steve sighed as he watched his boyfriend hail a cab.

He pulled out his phone and went right to Gareth’s Instagram. His location was off but Steve almost recognized the background.

He called Robin and sent her the picture. “We’ve been here before, right?”

“Uh...” she said. “Yeah! Dustin’s twenty-first! The Devil’s End!”

“If you weren’t a lesbian and I wasn’t dating Eddie I would kiss you on the mouth!”

“Eww...” she huffed. “You going to tell me what this is about?”

“Meet me at the apartment and I’ll fill you in.”

Then he sent off a brief text to Eddie.

-Try The Devil’s End. It’s where we had Dustin’s birthday bash.

The reply was almost immediate.

-God I love you.

-On it, babe.

Steve smiled to himself as he put his phone away. He couldn’t repay Eddie back for how kind he had been tonight, but at least he could help with this.

He just hoped Gareth was okay.

He knew that this business could and would chew up the best of people and spit them back out again without a single care.

Having a double life helped keep Steve and his friends humble. But he had no doubts in his mind that that could change at any moment.

Because if it wasn’t the business that would do the trick, it would be the isolation of not being able to tell anyone about what they really do for a living.

If he was being honest with himself, had it not been for Eddie figuring out who he was, Steve would have bet on himself being the first to fall to the Beast.

Both of his parents were raging alcoholics and he knew for awhile there when he was in middle school, his mom had gotten into some pretty heavy drugs.

It was why his high school days were so lonely. Because his dad was either hauling her off to rehab, or going on long trips where he would cheat on her and the cycle would begin again.

But now, with Eddie to keep him grounded?

His bet was on Simon. Hands down. The guy was very insecure outside of his alter ego Asmodeus.

If Steve only knew.

Trouble was brewing on the horizon, just not in the way Steve had thought it would go.

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch

@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian

@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33

[kieran-granola]

Mer! Tim and mer! Jason knocking each other up at the same time by accident and hilarity ensues when people find out

Jason wakes up feeling warm. His tail is hopelessly tangled with Tim's, the two of them cuddled up on a bed of soft algae. He can feel every single one of Tim's slow breaths, the shudder of water through his side gills ruffling Jason's wispy fins.

It's peaceful in a way he didn't think breeding season could be.

A quiet note fills the water as Jason hums in contentment. The sound makes Tim stir. With a smile, Jason presses soft kisses to his throat and cheek — over the bites he left on him at the height of their Mating frenzy. Tim’s eyes blink open. He gives Jason a slow smile before drawing him into a kiss. Their lips move languidly together for a while, rows of razor-sharp teeth hidden away.

Eventually, Jason pulls back. He nuzzles Tim’s nose with his own, before untangling their limbs to stretch his tail. Eyes half-lidded, Tim watches the movement. Then his own song echoes with a surprised warble as his expression goes from languid to pure delight.

“You caught!” he exclaims.

Jason blinks before looking down. It takes him a bit of squinting in the low light before he spots the darker patch of skin on his belly. Hands flying to his middle, he lets out a soft sound. He’s pregnant! He wasn't sure that it was in the cards for him after the Green Waters. He thought that he'd been too damaged, too broken to be the livebearer in their pair.

(…Not that Tim and him didn't give every configuration a try, but that was more a matter of pleasure than reproduction.)

Grinning widely, he tugs Tim out of bed and twirls him in excitement. “We did it! We’re going to be parents!”

With a giddy laugh, Tim wraps his arms around Jason’s neck. Lost in each other’s eyes, they let themselves forget the world, their tails swirling together in a bright flash of gold and red as they dance in joy. Their fins fan in and out to the rhythm of their shared song… until the rumbling of Jason's stomach interrupts them.

Tim laughs as their dancing winds down. “Sounds like I better do my duty and feed you.”

“I want mackerel,” Jason demands playfully. “To celebrate.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.” Tim rolls his eyes as he slings his hunting harness over his chest.

Jason steals a couple of kisses while helping him with the clasps, before accompanying him to the entrance of their breeding nest. Tim gives him one last nuzzle before swimming into the brighter ocean, his staff in hand. Jason watches the light reflect off his pretty golden tail from the safety of their cave…

Right before rushing after him with a gasp.

“Tim!” Jason exclaims as he catches Tim’s wrist.

Tim whirls around in surprise. “Uh, I don't think you're supposed to leave our ca—”

“You caught too!”

Tim freezes. “What?”

“Look!”

Jason puts his hands around the discreet darker spot on Tim’s stomach. Tim frowns, but he looks down. He blinks. Then his mouth falls open in shock.

“Holy shit! How is that even possible?!”

“I don’t know. I have no idea what happened, but obviously it did, and… Fuck. Tim, we’re going to have so many fries!” Jason can't keep the excitement out of his voice, the deep, overjoyed notes of his song joining the clicks of his tongue.

Tim gives him a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah, we are. I guess that warrants twice as much mackerel?”

“Yeah! Actually, wait. No." Jason frowns. "It’s too dangerous. You shouldn't be out hunting.”

Jason starts dragging them both back to their nest, but Tim resists. “Neither should you by that logic, but we still need to eat.”

Jason scrunches up his nose. He was so caught up in his discovery that he forgot about the practicalities for a minute. Shit. He has no idea how they're going to deal with logistics when both of them will need to be protected, fed, and taken care of while their fries gestate. Unless…

Ugh. Jason looks at Tim. His partner’s face is schooled into a careful mask of neutrality which tells Jason everything he needs to know. Tim has had the exact same idea he did, and he's waiting to see how Jason feels about it.

“I don't suppose you've got a secret uncle who could host us?” Jason tries.

Tim’s lips quirk in amusement as he shakes his head. “Sorry. No hidden family anywhere.”

“Dammit.” Jason sighs, and a torrent of bubbles swims up between them. “You know Bruce is going to be insufferable if we ask him for help, right?”

“Yeah." Tim sighs too. "We'll be safe, though, and our fries too.”

“Ugh. I guess. Fine. You give him the news, though. I need him to work it out of his system before letting him anywhere near me.”

Tim grimly extends a hand. “That's a deal... if you take care of telling Alfred.”

Jason pales, but he shakes Tim's hand. "Deal."

[ashleyfanfic]

I have finished part 1 of season 3 of Bridgerton. Thoughts under the cut

So, I hesitate to really try to talk about everything that happened, so I’m just gonna concentrate on the Polin of it all.

First, let me say that Nicola and Luke should be fucking proud cause they killed it with Colin and Penelope. Especially Nicola able to convey so much heartbreak on her face. But then toss in Luke and the longing looks, the complete denial he found himself in, was just perfect. He did such a great job.

Second, Colin’s vehement hatred for Whistledown is gonna bite them in the ass. I mean, I get they had to change the reveal from how it happened in the books, but also… WHY!? Him finding her at St Bride’s church and confronting her and then the carriage ride all went together. Not that I didn’t love the carriage ride. I mean, I’ll get to that in a moment, but I did so love the reveal in the book. But also, Eloise knowing before Colin is gonna be a big fucking problem, it seems.

Third, we get it. Colin is a manwhore making his way through the brothels of England, and also a bit of a vouyuer if he pays. Lordy Jesus what is he gonna ask to watch Pen do??🥰🥰 dirty boy. But in all seriousness, between Benedict Anthony and Colin, those brothels are being kept up. Also, yall stay the fuck away from Gregory and don’t ruin that sweet little boy.

Fourth, Pen flirting with others in the ton was actually painful to watch. I have terrible second hand embarrassment. Actually sitting through it was nearly impossible. I had to up the timing on it so I could make it through. Kudos for Nicola for making that the most awkward shit I’ve seen in a long fucking time.

Fifth, Sir, that coat and open neck are sinful. But I approve. Carry on!

Sixth, that first kiss. Let’s talk about it. First, Colin bribed her maid to speak with her alone. Clever. The hopelessness that Penelope feels was so palpable. He felt wretched for her and I do think he feels a sense of responsibility for her, but also the need to try to rescue someone. And I think that’s what he sought out to do when she asked him to kiss her. However, it made him reevaluate EVERYTHING. He became awkward with her because of how it made him feel. She was embarrassed for asking, he was embarrassed because he liked it so much and it rocked his fucking world. It was really beautiful that it started out so tentative, but then the romance of it all caught up to them. And she, unbeknownst to her, left him wanting.

Seventh, dreaming about your friend now? Naughty dreams that were tamer than whatever you were doing in that brothel, but knocked you so completely in your ass Mister Bridgerton? Hmmm?

Eighth, the apology he gave her was actually really beautiful. Because it was honest and sincere. He hated he hurt her, he does value her, and she is his friend. Also, we see you with those fluttering lashes when you thought about Colin whispering in your ear at every ball. Well played. But honestly, after how hurt she was by what he said, it did take him off the pedestal she’d had him on. They were finally on even ground and not her looking up at him, theoretically speaking. She will have to give an equally compelling one when it’s revealed to him that she’s Lady Whistledown, especially since he proposed without knowing the truth. I only wish she hadn’t accepted without telling him first. My only really qualm with their love story.

Ninth, friends to lovers is a hard trope to pull off once one of the friends is in the friendzone. As they said, it’s hard to get off the wall once you’re on it. But I think they did a great job.

Tenth, Penelope reading Colin’s journal made it in and I’m so glad. She needed to see his temper a little. Part of him coming down from the pedestal is realizing that he’s not perfect and genteel all the time. Him cutting his hand and her tending to it, while also commenting on his writing was really a lovely scene. As was the moments before it.

Eleventh, the balloon scene. Colin staring at her while she was eating a pastry is unhinged. Mouth open and everything. But also, him realizing what was happening with the balloon because he’d been staring at Pen. And the swashbuckler ran to stop anything from happening. Pen then getting caught up staring, same girl same, and when she tried to run she fell. I felt that on an emotional level. I once fell out of bed because I got my foot caught in the opposite leg of my pajamas. We all clumsy out here. I know my ass would have face planted if I tried to run. But I liked all of it.

Twelfth, their meeting under the tree was super cute. Both fumbling with their words because the kiss did mean something despite what Penelope said. TBH, I would have had my maid check me for bugs after cause trees like those have them. Her paid was the MVP, honestly, that woman stayed so fucking far behind them I don’t know if she can say she was actually with them.

Thirteenth, it struck me that the advice Colin gave Penelope didn’t work because that’s really not who either of them are. They’re both weird little nerds who like to talk about the things that interest them even if no one else is interested.

Fourteenth, Colin chasing after Penelope twice as she left two different balls. The first time just shattered my heart. She had been hurt by the revelation, as she should have been, and then to have it rubbed in her face later was horrific. The realization on her face when she realized what everyone was talking about hurt my heart for her. She truly got a taste of her own medicine when she had to write an article about her own scandal. God he’s really gonna be pissed when he finds out she did that to both of them.

Fifteenth, I keep coming back to I wish she’d told him already about Whistledown. I fucking hope she doesn’t marry him without telling him. That would be hard to support. From the preview, I imagine Eloise won’t let that happen.

Sixteenth, Penelope’s new dresses were very lovely.

Seventeenth, I think I’m ready to talk about the carriage scene. Colin ran after her carriage and made it stop along the road so he could get in. Penelope was embarrassed and ashamed that her once chance to marry had slipped away. And Colin was so fucking relieved when she told him she wasn’t engaged to Debling. Also, Colin, you out here causing a doozy of a scandal by interrupting their dance. Like my dude! Carry on! And he did. I love that most of his confession was on his knees in front of her, making them eye level but also displaying his sincerity. I think that’s what’s so powerful about the scene. Luke did such a wonderful job conveying his desperation to make her understand and that he was genuine. She already knew she loved him, but thinking that he loved her had never crossed her mind. And that it was Penelope who finally revealed herself and her feelings for Colin to spark them into the spiciness.

Last, the spiciness. Admittedly, the dream was rather tame considering all their talk of spicy. The carriage ride was more Bridgerton. Penelope touching his hair LIKE WE ALL WANT TO. The caresses, the kisses. And who knew that a Pitbull song could be romantic!? I love when the carriage stopped him asking if the carriage could just keep going! The laughs, two friends who are used to sharing giggles together who now have more fun pursuits. But then the determination on his face when he climbed out of the carriage. He knew before he moved he was going to ask her to marry him. The fact that Penelope didn’t immediately say yes, tells me she was probably still a little distracted by getting finger banged inside a carriage. Completely understandable. God, I hope her mother doesn’t give her the sex talk. The fact that her sisters had NO IDEA what sex was… well, I hoped she learned her lesson. Draw pictures for your daughters, ladies. Or ask Agatha, to do so. We learned in Queen Charlotte she’s not bad at drawing. But I did really love this scene and how intimate and sexy it was.

Last minute things I had on my mind about the others: as much as I wanted to hate Cressida and Eloise’s friendship, I kind of like it and that they’re comfortable enough to call one another out on their bullshit. GUYS, UNLESS MICHAEL STERLING IS GONNA BE PLAYED BY MICHAEL B. JORDAN IM HIGHLH PISSED THAT HE’S NOT GONNA COME WITH A SCOTTISH ACCENT AND LOOK LIKE RICHARD FUCKING MADDEN. I’m serious. I mean, should they have saved Rege for that role? I’m nervous. Is the only reason that Lady Danbury dislikes her bro is because he’s a rake? Another season of Benedict wandering aimlessly through life and diddling some lady. Honestly, I would have been happier if he’d ended up with Madam Delacroix. Is it possible her name is actually Sophie?

All in all, not a bad first half.

[endlessthxxghts]

Dear readers, writers, and simply friends alike,

Below are some thoughts I’ve been cooking up since I started writing/posting. I believe it to be the holy grail of my blog — what I stand for, and essentially the morals of what my writing is built off of. I wanted to have this here and ingrained into my blog/navigation for purposes of making my positionality known from the start, so people know what kind of open and inclusive space they are entering when being on my blog and interacting with me.

back to navigation ->

As someone who is on the curvier side, physically disabled, Asian, and queer, I strive to make every story I write as neutral as possible in order to give everyone the chance at being able to experience seeing themselves in written word. I know what it’s like to be underrepresented (if any representation at all), and if I have any control over it, I don’t want another human to have to experience it either — so at the very least, I don’t want anyone to experience that on my blog.

At the same time, these stories are as much for me as it is for you. With that being said, I’m also going to dabble into certain physical descriptors. Why, some may ask? Well, that’s simple. Representation. (I do want to note that my creative representation cannot go beyond the marginalized groups I am a part of — I do not, cannot, and should not create on behalf of experiences I do not have. I also want to note that creative writing and advocating are not the same! I will always advocate for every human in every sense of wrongdoing, justice, etc.).

It’s one thing to be able to fit into the neutral “one-size-fits-all” window, but it’s another thing to actively see someone like you within a work of art (whether it be a literal painting or a book or a film).

These creations are often associated with idyllics and the notion of “perfect,” but because there’s been a lack of diverse representation early on in these creations, society decided that anything not fitting under the skinny, white/eurocentric, able-bodied, cis-heterosexual normative was wrong. And I’m here to tell you that it’s simply not true. And with my words and my creations, I will show you how that’s not true. 

Additionally, because of society’s standards that were forcibly instilled into us, we sometimes forget the capability of humans. Often we see characters (and especially within the PPCU and even Joel) carry his counterpart (whether it be an OC or a reader-insert). Now, there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with whatever you write as long as it’s original, you give credit where needed, and you give content warnings/tags accordingly. However, whenever the idea of “carrying” comes around, often the automatic assumption is that the person being carried is smaller or of a more “fit” body. And that’s entirely okay! For my stories, though, I want to clarify. This is not the case unless I specify. 

To my thicker body individuals, you are seen and you are capable and worthy of all the freak nasty shit my brain shares with the internet world. As someone who relies on other humans to carry me — you don’t have to be skinny or petite or “fit” in order for this to happen. You simply need a person who is capable, and in my stories, with any PPCU character I write, they will always be capable.

To my people with disabilities, you are seen and you are capable and worthy of all the freak nasty shit my brain shares with the internet world. I know I don’t have disabled!reader-inserts yet (this statement is subject to change! I’ve got some stuff cooking🩶), I hope you can understand — this is something that is especially close to my heart, and disability is also something that is the most subjective human experience any of us will face. I will try my best to represent this lifestyle in the way that I know best, and I hope somehow, someway, there’s details in there that we can all relate to and see ourselves in.

I love you. All of you. No matter what you look like, or what lifestyle the universe has given you. You are human, and with me, you are seen. I can promise you that.

My ask box is always open, and if there are any questions or things you’d like to address with me — I’m always open for the conversation, and I’m always open for more ways to grow personally and mentally. I’m also always open if you ever just need another human to talk to or even to listen. I’m here.

If any of these beliefs and morals don’t sit right with you, then this isn’t the blog for you, and I hope we can simply scroll along. And I also hope you can find a blog that aligns with what you’re looking for.

Endless love,

L <3

[iagkms]

Part two to my high school bully Simon since someone asked for it 🤷‍♀️

A year later, you guys are still going strong, he’s in year six, you a year five, (Scottish year groups because I don’t know any others sorry), he beats anyone who gives you trouble in, or out of school.

“Since we always go to my house, can you go to yours this time?”

“W- my house? I mean…my parents are out today…so okay…but only until they get back.”

“Oh okay…that’s fine! You got any pets?”

“I’ve got a dog…Riley.”

“OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM ALREADY MORE THAN YOU!!”

“You sure about that lovie?”

“Yes.” You smirk at him, knowing your getting it later on.

He pulls out the keys to unlock his house, his house is a normal, medium size house, not counsel house small, but not mansion big either. Riley immediately comes barking to greet him, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees you.

“He’s a bit…funny with new people.”

You kneel down and hold your hand out for him to sniff, and he walks over to you, slowly and cautiously, after a couple sniffs he licks your face, for a big German Shepard, he’s very gentle.

“Oh, you must be special.”

You smile brightly. “Always had a way with animals I guess!” You laugh.

“Do you uh…want to go to my room?”

“Yeah sure, it’s been a year and I’ve never even been here!”

As soon as you stand up Riley bounds up the stairs and waits at the top, Simon skips three steps at a time going up, you only two, legs aren’t as long as his. Once he gets into his room he immediately starts picking stuff up and shoving them under his bed, you don’t say anything, he just wants to make a good impression.

“So uh…anything you had in mind…for us to do?”

“Yeah kinda…”

You crawl into his lap and kiss him softly then cock your head to the side, to say ‘do we keep going ooorr’

He immediately kisses you back, trailing his fingertips down your sides, one hand moving it’s way up your back and to the back of your neck, holding you tight to his front, kissing gently at first but before things get heated you both hear the door open.

“Shit…shit shit my dads back early…I’m so sorry love…your gonna have to go…I’ll walk you out okay? Nothing will happen..”

“Happen? What would happen?”

“It doesn’t matter love, it doesn’t matter okay? Now grab your bag for me…”

“SIMON GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE NOW!”

You hear his father yelling for him, you look at him with a little pity and confusion.

He immediately walks you downstairs and stands guard of you until you tie your shoes on.

“Who’s the bird.?” His father says, his voice is Brocken, and deep as hell.

“She’s my…my uh..”

“Has my Simon got himself a bird.?”

“What about it?”

“Nothing…I’ll talk to you later.”

You stand up to leave, his hands brush your waist briskly before he opens the door for you, and a small kiss on the forehead. You leave.

“She does anything to you Simon…tell me alright. You didn’t last time.” His dad says to him.

“She won’t…she’s not like her…she’s different, even Riley likes her.”

“Hmph…alright mate…just be careful with her as well, she looks like the delicate type..”

“She’s perfect.”

[this is gonna be the last part for this one because I have no more ideas, I was never even gonna make a part two tbh.]

[buckysbabygorl]

Deal (Bucky Barnes Fic)

Blunt Part 4

(Blunt Part 4, trust me the smut is VERY much on its way)

Part 3

Summary: Y/N finally shows, and Bucky feels more than rewarded for his patience

Being a soldier, you have to be sure.

You have to know your enemy, your team, you have to have the right skills and the right temperament for the job.

Is your aim dead on, do you know your location, did you check your six… every damn time you have to be one hundred percent sure.

Bucky knew right then, whiskey in hand with Tony at his side—he was damn sure that red was her fucking color.

That suit hugged her in all the right ways, hair down, heels high… and her eyes, staring right at him.

Bucky gulped.

“There’s my boys.” She called as she sauntered over.

“Do my eyes deceive me,” Tony purred, “or has Y/N L/N come out to play?”

“Oh I’ve come for much more than that.”

She perched herself on the barstool beside him, crossing one leg over the other. A signature of hers, Bucky had come to notice.

“I need a whiskey, and I need this god awful music changed.”

Tony waved to the bartender, tapping his glass for a refill. Holding up two fingers, signaling for another.

Looking at Barnes in his shell shock, Tony signaled for 3.

“My, my. Awfully bossy now that you’re off the clock.” Tony said.

She rolled her eyes, “I never pegged you to be against role reversal.”

“Role play I’m all for. I’ll let you play the captain tonight if it’ll get you to come out more. Speaking of…”

He smacked Barnes on the back to wake him the hell up.

“Bucky here is playing the role of depressed loner tonight, which is really riveting for all of us.”

She chuckled, and Bucky reminded himself to kick the shit out of Tony during training tomorrow.

Her eyes landed on him again, and she smiled.

“No ‘hi’ for me?” She purred.

Dear god, what was happening?

“You finished work?” He choked.

The bartender delivered their ryes, and Y/N swiftly raised the glass to her lips.

“Honestly?” She asked.

Bucky nodded.

She smiled, “No.”

Both men went wide eyed. She had to be joking.

“Are you shitting me?” Tony asked.

She laughed, “Don’t look so surprised. You begged me to come.”

“Of course I did. I just didn’t think you’d have the willpower to put down your damn tablet.”

Watching as she downed her glass, Bucky couldn’t muster a word. Who was this woman in front of him?

“Well… I thought about what you said. I never show, but I’m always good with the final details. I can’t control the outcome by rushing through the project. Handing something in a week before the deadline isn’t going to resolve things faster. Besides…”

She tapped her fingers on the top of the glass, and the bartender moved to make her another drink.

“I have more pressing matters here.”

Bucky couldn’t stop searching her eyes. Sam labelled her right a month back, Little Miss Wild Card.

“Like what?” Bucky asked.

Something in her eye turned. That glimpse of darkness he’d only seen when he took her glasses, standing inches apart from one another. His head was spinning.

“Well for starters, drinking Wilson under the table. Where is he?”

As if on cue, Sam came up behind her with a beer in hand.

“You wish.”

He slung an arm over her shoulder, and Bucky felt his stomach turn.

“I told you if you came, we were going hard. I’m keeping my eye on you to make you keep your promise.”

She grabbed her fresh drink and swiveled in her seat.

“I always keep my promises, you know that.”

Sam rambled on, and Bucky finished the drink given by Tony.

It’s not like it would do much, but he wouldn’t let booze go to waste.

Bucky realized too late how harsh the drink was. That was not whiskey. He looked up across the bar, seeing Thor at the other ended.

Thor raised his flask, pointing back at the soldier.

Hm, nice to know the God was looking out for him.

“Hey. Eyes on me, Sergeant.”

Bucky turned, Y/N looked at him pointedly.

He’d never get used to that. This different look she had about her, intense and daring.

She grinned cheekily, leaning in close.

Sam and Tony had begun their own challenge of drinking, yammering on about the happenings of the last party…

Somehow for a moment in this crowded room, he had her all to himself.

“What’s this I hear about you being a loner?”

Bucky pursed his lips, debating if honesty was his best policy. She’d blown off work to be here and gone so far as to admit it. He should return the favor.

“Honestly,” he rested himself against her shoulder, “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

Her gaze didn’t falter as she hummed, “Like I said to Wilson, I always keep my promises.”

“You didn’t.”

That phased her, tilting her head as Bucky twirled his glass.

“You told me you’d come when you got everything done, yet you wrote it off to be here.”

He ducked his lips to her ear, something he dare not try since his strong attempts a month ago. The liquor was giving him his confidence back.

“What are your pressing matters here, Y/N?”

She shocked him by turning her chin towards his, lips now a fraction of a distance apart.

She lingered, and he reveled in her proximity. What he would give to sit like this with her the whole night…

“I’m not one for subtlety. And with your actions this past month, I can tell neither are you.”

He was entranced by her voice, hypnotized at its sultry slowness. His heart pounded as he tried to read her, subtle-avoidant though she said, he hadn’t been able to pull much from her before tonight. A compliment, her riding declaration and her proposition of praise had been divine deliverances in themselves. But he worried that she was playing him, getting him back for his blunt flirtations.

No. She wouldn’t do that, she was honest. Though she was harsh and sharp, she wasn’t cruel.

Still… he feared he would lose out on something he never really had.

Bucky looked down as her hand reached for his thigh, and he tried to stifle a groan.

“I remember everything you’ve said to me, James. The praises of my character, my beauty, that you like a woman that takes charge, that you want to add me to your work out routine…”

She slid her hand up his thigh, his breath grew shaky.

“I thought it was just harmless flirting. I couldn’t tell what you really wanted.”

She rose from her stool, slowly reaching for his belt.

“I couldn’t let you know that I’ve wanted you since the first moment I laid my eyes on you.”

Now Bucky couldn’t breathe. He grew vastly aware just how many people were in the room. Sam and Tony only a few steps away, they could turn at any moment and see her wandering hands…

Jesus Christ, he wanted her now.

“But now I know. I came tonight for you, I don’t want to dance around it anymore James.”

And then she slid away.

It was like electrocution, his spine rippled and his skin was on fire. He almost rose out of his seat.

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” She waved to the bartender, another round for the four of them. “You and I, are going to socialize, dance, tell stories, drink…”

She slid their new glasses towards them.

“At midnight, I’ll say I have to wake up early and leave. You’ll leave shortly after, head to your room and you’ll find me there.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, hiding his lustful smirk.

Lifting her whiskey up, and urging him to do the same, she smiled.

“Then for the rest of the night, I’m yours.”

She clinked her glass against his, “We have a deal, Sergeant?”

He stopped himself from reaching out for her, instead mirroring her as she finished her glass.

“Deal.”

~

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[missdirection26]

I saw this and spouted a couple of thousand words.

Summary: You’re the person in control of Jackson’s alcohol production and distribution.

You’ve been trying not to crush on Joel Miller, and having some time away to focus on producing some drinks for the winter dance in 2038 gives you some much needed time apart.

Until you see his beautifully outgrown hair…

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: Mature (just for swearing and drinking)

Tags: Jackson!Joel, Fluff, Angst with a happy ending, Romance, First Kiss

Joel Miller’s hair was going to be the death of you.

As the person with control over the alcohol distribution in Jackson, you were one of the only people allowed in Joel’s small circle of trust. Years ago when he’d joined the community with his sort-of daughter, he sought you out. You, who’d grown up working in your families distillery Before. You who were strong-willed enough to manage the most popular non-essential resource in town, and the arguments that came along with it. Joel, however, was ever the Southern gentleman.

“Excuse me ma’am, sorry to bother ya, but my brother, Tommy…he said you’re the lady I need to come to to barter for more than my assigned ration of whiskey?”

Despite his size, he seemed small in that moment. Nervous. Perhaps even shy?

“Tommy knows better than to call me a lady, ain’t ever been one of those. But he’s right about how I got the hookup. I got a distillery system set up here, raided the Jackson Hole Still Works south of here a few years back for the equipment, but production is still limited. How much you looking for?”

He stood before you, rubbing the back of his neck and pointedly avoiding contact with your eyes. You figured out later that it was lucky on your end he did that, as your usually steely will had a kryptonite in his baby brown eyes.

“Double the ration amount ongoing? I ain’t got nothing physical to trade yet, but I’ll be a full-time patroller soon if ya need somethin’. Or I’m good with my hands”

You smirked and giggled at him then, secretly knowing what he meant (Tommy had been raving on around town about his brothers contracting skills the months he’d been gone in preparation for his return), but you loved messing with guys. And watching his sun-kissed cheeks redden slightly as he realised what he’d said sent a small thrill of power down your spine.

“I…I meant buildin’. Woodwork and shit, can figure my way around a pipe too if need be. I just…” he trailed off.

That was the moment you think it all started, this stupid schoolgirl crush on a 50 odd year old man. Seeing him try not to be vulnerable with a stranger, in a strange town, in a shit world. So you take pity on him.

“Glass bottles. People are suppose to return them, but accidents happen and we have less and less all the time. They’re also heavy so patrollers don’t like to carry them back, but thats usually the currency I have with the others. Lets say average one bottle a patrol, and I get you on retainer for repairs or building work I need, and you got a deal” you stated confidently, stepping closer and held a hand out to seal the deal. Little would you know, this moment would become your undoing.

For years, you two circled around each other, waltzing around the energy you emitted. He’d come to the small distillery you ran out of an old restaurant every week, with a few precious glass bottles, and had a small stilted conversation as you updated your logs with the exchange. You learned he had a dry sense of humour like yours, that you could make the corners of his lips turn upward with a bit of town gossip, and that he’d set up a woodworking room in his house when Ellie move out to the garage. The last one came along with the first of many gifts he started giving you. Tiny little creatures he’d began whittling after the endless downtime of town living had started grating on him. On the house he’d say every time you offered a bottle of beer in exchange, giving you lip on not understanding the concept of a gift.

For years, you danced. You knew Joel didn’t feel anything like that towards you, he’d been very clear about that. A couple of years back, Tommy set him up on a date with the lady who ran the greenhouse - Esther you think? She wasn’t one for drinking so you had no clue about her really - and Joel spent a good portion of your weekly chat groaning on about the upcoming thing. You bantered back like always, but tiny pinpricks hit your heart at how adamant he was about not needing a partner like that. And honestly, it’s not something you’d ever wanted either, especially after losing Talia sometime before Joel even joined Jackson. You thought you’d had your one love, and the pain of losing another had you bat off any attention with your wit and sass, sticking to harmless flirting. But Joel had somehow nudged his way in. You resolved to start building the walls back up.

It had been easier recently. With the winter being so harsh, socialising as a town had reduced, and the council were worried about morale. Ergo - The Winter Dance.

Social events were regular in Jackson, but the council were determined to go all out with this one, wanting to coax as many residents out and having fun as possible. So for the first time, they wanted a full open bar. Usually there was a limit to keep the town from running totally dry, but some sweet talking from Maria and a promise of another raid of Jackson Hole Still Works had you agreeing to overproduce for a month before the dance to create enough supply. This meaning you and a few trusted ‘employees’ were basically living at your makeshift distillery, no time for any sort-of flirting with a certain bearded Texan.

What this also meant was that after a whole month of not laying eyes on the man, you were not prepared for the fact that he’d somehow decided to grow his hair out a bit for the winter. So when you enter the Church where the dance is being held, and you see the man leaning against the makeshift bar, you’re not prepared at all, and with the exhaustion reducing your self control, the walls came tumbling down.

Thankfully, he didn’t spot you as you entered or you knew your face would have given you away, so focussed on something in the crowd. Your eyes followed what he was looking at, and a small smile upturned the corners of your lips. Out on the dance floor was your old lover's sister Dina (who you also thought of as a sister), with her arms around Joel's now grown kid, Ellie. You hadn’t spoken much to Dina recently, after her turning 18 and joining the full-time patrol team keeping her busy, but after her on-off with Jesse the past few years, you were just glad she seemed to be moving on.

You were so focussed on the young girls, you hadn’t realised you had company.

“So you are alive. Still not used to trustin’ people, so I’m mighty glad to see ya hear tonight to prove ‘em right”

Fuck. That stupid goddamn Texan drawl. You had enough self-restraint to not look over to him, knowing that either his baby brown eyes or the new hair growth so perfect for running your hands through would be your undoing.

“Well, the Council thought it would be good for the town if everyone could get white girl wasted, so who am I to deny that request?”

You heard him snort gently next to you. The next few seconds passed in agonising silence (for you at least) before the man consuming your soul made a sound.

“So does she partake in her own goods?”

You whip your head round to look at him, confusion masked on your face, forgetting about the incandescent curls you were about to see.

He’s attuned to your facial expressions by now.

“I mean, can I get you a drink?” he mumbles, gesturing weakly to the bar in the corner where all your hard work for the past month resides.

If you had to stand there any longer, you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist grabbing those goddamn curls, so without warning, your legs took off, striding you fast and efficiently towards your goal - some fucking liquid courage.

Jeff - one of the bartenders who drew the short straw to work the dance - knew you well enough to have a double whiskey neat, ready for you to slam back the moment you were close enough.

“So you ain’t a nurse your drink kind of gal, good to know”

The fucking Texan drawl had followed you. Of course, he had longer (and so sexy and thick) legs that’d easily keep up with your small stature.

You shoved your glass back toward Jeff, before taking a deep breath and steeling your resolve as you looked back to Joel. Fuck he looks so fucking hot. You can do this, it’s just one night.

“I’ve just spent the past month pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into all this. Think I deserve to drink it however I please thank you!”

Phew. Not awful. Not as witty as you might usually be, but given the fucking hair situation, you were doing your goddamn best,

The heat emanating off him as he scooched closer to you wasn’t helping though.

“Well, I’m grateful for your effort ma’am, this is a mighty fine batch you made”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. With resources slimmer as the years go by, the quality of the alcohol you distilled varied. Joel was always an honest judge, something you’d grown to respect over the years. You knew his words were true, and fuck if it didn’t worsen your resolve.

But he wasn’t interested in you like that - in anyone. So you used the remainder of your self-control to change the subject.

“Didn’t peg you to be a community event attendee Miller, thought this was all a bunch of communist bullshit last I heard?”

He snorted a bit louder this time, somehow still ridiculously attractive.

“I was threatened from multiple angles. Ellie and Tommy together could arguably be more formidable than FEDRA when it comes to forcing me to do shit I don’t wanna do”

Inwardly, you sighed. It was nice that Joel had people who cared about him like this of course, but it just reminded you of what you didn’t have. Dina checked in occasionally, feeling a bit responsible for the woman her sister loved, and although you were friendly with most of Jackson given your role, no one cared enough about your wellbeing to force you to do something you didn’t want to do but would be good for you. Totally your fault of course, you didn’t let many people close enough for that. Still…it ached.

“Woah, hey there girlie, you with me? You started drinkin’ before you got here maybe?”

Fuck. SHIT. You got stuck in your head, and now your stupid hot crush was having to guide you gently out of the church as you slowly came back to your senses.

It was only once you’d turned a corner and were alone with him that you returned fully to your body - realising his large, calloused hand was gently gripping your upper arm.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Joel, that hasn’t happened in a really long time. I think I’m just tired, with all the extra work and all-”

He quickly interrupted you by turning to face you head on.

“Girlie, you don’t gotta apologise, it’s kinda nice to see you be a bit human for once”

And as you looked up at his face, you saw the softest and kindest expression you’d ever seen on the survivors face, some of his previously slicked back curls popping out in the cold, forming a slightly wild halo to frame him. He was the most beautiful creature you’d ever seen, and you physically couldn’t stop yourself from stepping into his space, and reaching up a hand to gently run through his curls.

Those baby brown eyes widened slightly in shock, but otherwise he didn’t move for what felt like eternity as your fingers were buried and surrounded by his brown and grey locks, pushing through them reverently.

Slowly, one of his hands found your waist and gently tugged you forward as his other hand found your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek. You were totally aware of your body, every feeling, but you no longer had control. And as his head tilted down to meet yours, his lips grazing on yours, you never wanted control of your body again if it meant depriving you of this feeling. You could feel him moving out of pure instinct like yourself, and despite it just being a kiss, you realised deep in your gut, that this was the start of something physically and spiritually breathtaking