#I'm a bit rusty so I do NOT remember how to do that

[millersvalens]

[tinseldo]

gettin back to my roots of drawing cute clothes

[finniestoncrane]

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

Different Up Here

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

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

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

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

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

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh... oh darlin'."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why? Sex is sex..."

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

"... Isn't it?"

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

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

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

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

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

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

"No, sir."

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

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

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

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

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, it's something like this."

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

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

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

"Well?"

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

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

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

"You like that? Like it rough?"

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

"So, something like this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

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

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

"A little..."

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

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

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

“And what about these pretty lips?”

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

“They touch these lips, huh?”

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

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

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

“Do it slowly though.”

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

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

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

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

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

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

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

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

“I absolutely will not.”

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

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

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Cooper…”

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

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

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

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

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I taste it… you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bigger than before?”

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

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

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

“Yes… it’s better.”

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

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

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

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

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

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

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

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

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

“A little…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I say you could get up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M-more?”

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

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

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Of Ghouls and Drugs

Request: "ok so I'm absolutely obsessed with that coop fic you did where reader helps him when he's injured and it's super domestic and fluffy....could you maybe do something where the roles are reversed and he helps the reader who's injured? maybe she's a little shaken up over it too and he calms her down and it's just very sweet and soft. thank you i adore your writing so much 💖" A/N: First of all, the reception of my Fallout content has been amazing. If you're one of the people who have liked/reblogged/replied/shared/saved/etc, I am eternally grateful to you. Second, thank you once again to the anon who sent this request! It's a bit of a switcharoo from Stuck Like Glue, so if you need some more Cooper content, check that out or take a peek at my Fallout Masterlist! Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence Summary: Injured and scared, you can always count on your Cowboy to save the day.

Word Count: 1.7k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

You don’t know why you’re hyperventilating. 

Sure, you’d been in countless fights and been scared more times than you can remember. In the Wasteland, if you’re not scared every now and again, you’re dead. But today, cornered in a decrepit open-air shopping mall store while a hoard of feral ghouls claw at the rusty security gate, you’re frozen with fear. 

It was an old clothing store, picked apart by scavengers and ravaged by time. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of dust, from the old checkout counter to the racks of high heels that sit untouched. Unfortunately for you, it hadn’t been a department store you ducked into where there could be some hope of escape. This one was a small boutique-type outlet with one way in and one impassable way out. Furthermore, the roll-down security door currently saving your life had been pure luck on your part. The lever for it was broken off and mounted on the side of the entrance; you’d only found it after the damn thing had torn your upper arm to shreds in your haste to get away. 

And now you’re ducked behind the checkout counter, old patterned men’s tie wrapped tightly around your bicep in a poor excuse of a tourniquet. You were out of ammo, banking on the security gate holding until the ghouls got bored or forgot about you. But there was something about today, about how they’d come charging from the darkness the second Cooper had left to turn in your latest bounty, that terrified you. Feral ghouls were shells of people with no logic or sense left in them, but the attack had felt calculated, planned. You argued with yourself, knowing they had basic instinct and probably just singled you out after another of their kind left.

Then again, maybe you’re conflating your fear of Cooper becoming one of them one day with the looming fear of death. 

Unable to do anything about it, you sit behind the counter and shake. Your breath comes in quick punches, inhales cutting off the exhales and vice versa. The iron smell of your own blood is overwhelming. Despite the tourniquet, warm liquid leaks down your arm and drips into a thick crimson puddle beneath you. Your backpack, full of stimpaks and every chem known to man, is abandoned just outside the gate. The damn thing had been torn away when you’d got caught on the jagged lever, beyond your reach and unable to be saved. 

The ghouls wail and groan while clawing at the gate, the sound of rattling metal echoing around the store’s walls. It’s deafening to the point where you cover your ears, accepting the fact that you’re screwed either way. Blood loss or ghoul attack, it doesn’t matter. Cooper’s long gone towards the last town, and you’re cursing the apparently lackluster job the two of you did making sure your camp was secure. 

“Take a look around.” He’d told you, “Getch’yu some new clothes if you need ‘em.”

Cooper’s voice and kiss goodbye lingers in your thoughts as you hold your hands over your ears. It’s a more pleasant thought than the ghouls outside. Your ghoul always keeps you safe. 

“Darlin’.” 

You almost smile to yourself, probably delusional from blood loss. 

“Hey!”

Your name slipping out of Cooper’s mouth dances across your foggy mind. 

“Goddamn it woman, open your eyes.” 

Something shakes your whole body, and your eyes snap open. 

At first it’s too dark for you to recognize any solid features, and you scramble away. The missing nose and scarred flesh blend together in your mind. You swing your injured arm in blind panic, which has the tourniquet breaking loose and bright arterial blood spattering the floor.

But you hear a voice calling through the haze. Soft and slow, like it’s calling to a wounded animal. “Ay, ay ay. Calm down now, sweetheart.”

You squint through the darkness, fighting dizziness. A familiar silhouette makes itself apparent. 

“Cooper?”

His face, weathered by radiation and pain, is usually twisted into a dramatic scowl. But right now it’s concerned, brow furrowed into worry that you’d never seen. The sounds of ghouls and impending doom have vanished. 

“It’s me, babydoll.” He almost coos at you, reaching out a hand. “C’mere.”

Your emotions rage, and tears burn at your eyes. You reach out a hand and brush the one he’s holding out, but your fingertips barely catch on the seam of his gloves.  You squeeze to make sure he’s real. He wraps strong fingers around your wrist and pulls you in. 

It’s easy to give in as his familiar scent and feel washes over you. Gunpowder and smoke are the main notes, but you catch the leather of his duster and the unavoidable grime provided by the Wasteland. The tears flow easily out the corner of your eyes and drip down your cheek.

“I-I don’t know where they came from.” You clutch at his coat, “Scared the hell out of me.”

Cooper is still moving despite you being all but wrapped around him where he’s knelt down. You feel his hands near your injured arm and instinctively cower. 

“Came from somewhere in that back parking lot, it looks like.” Cooper grits in his usual gruff tone, “Must’a got ‘em goin’ when they heard us. Waited ‘til you were alone.”

You sniffle pathetically into his coat, and it morphs into a strangled cry as he wraps the tie back around your arm. His other hand holds a broken piece of wood that he uses to knot into the fabric and twist. 

“Ah! Fucking hell, Coop!” Your protest is little more than a whine as your arm starts to go numb. 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, tipping his head back so he’s able to look in your eyes. “Don’t want ya to bleed out here.” 

You hold his gaze for a moment. “Why’d you come back?”

He helps you stand, giving you a moment to lean back against the counter and acclimate to the dizziness. Your eyes hold steady on him, watching lashless eyelids blink above gaunt cheeks.

“Vials.” He hooks an arm around your shoulders and the other behind your knees and lifts you up, “I wanted to have enough in case I got caught up.”

The slow cadence of Cooper’s walk almost lulls you into closing your eyes and he trudges silently to the shop’s entrance. You see gore splattered on the walls and floor, headless ghouls lying motionless at his feet. The top handle of your backpack is sticking out of the mess, and Cooper snatches it up. 

He walks for some distance, away from the pile of dispatched ghouls. He doesn’t stop until you come up on a store a ways away, advertising furniture and televisions. It seemed relatively untouched considering an atomic war and a two-hundred year wait. The Ghoul moves near the door, and you hear him clanking about with the lock. It takes a few tries and muttered curses, but Cooper jimmies it enough so he can get a toe nudged in the door. You attempt to help by grabbing the door, but he moves your hand back to his shoulder and pushes in on his own.

Cooper sets you gently on a shockingly clean and padded couch. The Ghoul is quiet, but gets to work cleaning the long gash in your arm. He gives you his inhaler, but there’s a strange canister clicked into the mechanism rather than his vial. You take a huff, and gag at the strong taste. 

“H-Holy Shit.” You cough, and it almost distracts you from the pain of a stimpak being stabbed into your wound. “What is that?”

Cooper unties the tourniquet when he’s satisfied, and sets the stimpak off to the side. “Med-X. Inhalin' it works faster.”

You nod and huff on his inhaler again. The Med-X is potent as all hell, and it feels like it’s shooting straight to your brain. You’re more willing, desperate for more as the effects set in. Cooper settles himself on the cushions beside you, watching carefully and taking away the inhaler before you overdose yourself. 

“I’m sorry for bein’ stupid.” You murmur. “I shoulda ran anywhere but there.”

Cooper leans in, ungloved hand cupping the side of your neck and tilting back. “Never apologize for survivin’, sugar.”

The drugs swirling about in your brain make it hard to form normal sentences. “I wouldn’t have without you… I hurt my arm and lost my cool.”

He tries to talk, but you  shush him.

“I couldn’t quit thinkin’ about those ghouls… about you.” 

Cooper sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in close and shushes the soft cries that creep up your throat, fueled by a drug-induced haze. 

“Y’know… There’s always somethin’ that’s gonna make us lose it.” Cooper drums his fingers on your forearms. “No matter how tough we might be.”

You feel his lips in your hair and lean into it. “Guess I gotta trust that, ‘cause you’re pretty tough.”

Unbeknownst to you, your words are already comically slurred. Cooper chuckles into the bird’s nest on your head. 

“Feelin’ that Med-X, honey?” 

You swear to god, it’s gotta be that drawl that’s honey, not the drugs.

“Jus-Just a little.” You slump further into his side, head dropping onto his chest. He uses the tip of his boot to drag a nearby footrest closer and prop his feet up. 

“Good. Time for a nap.” Cooper tilts his hat down over his eyes. 

You hum, unable to argue. A nap sounds rather splendid, especially with the amount of drugs circulating your body. You glance up just as the Ghouls huffs down the rest of the Med-X himself. 

“Coop!” You try to chastise him, but it comes out as more of a laugh. “That’s not safe. You don’t need that right now.”

The Ghoul grumbles something that sure sounds like ‘goody two-shoes’, but reigns in the hostility, 

“Sure I do.” His hand rubs up and down your arm before finding its way to your waist. “I’m an old fuckin’ man. Joint pain.”

“Joint pain, schmoint pain.” You mock, eyes falling shut and staying that way. “Fuckin’ old man.”

Cooper actually chuffs at your remark and ducks to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s unexpected and sweet to feel such affection from him, and combines with the euphoric feeling of opioids pulsing through your brain.

“Go to bed, darlin’. Before I knock you out myself.”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Brains & Barbie!

PAIRING: Michael Gavey x fem!BIMBO!Reader

WORDS: 1,515.

SUMMARY: Polar opposites attract right? It’s science. Who knew you would fall so helplessly in love with the math geek of the century…

WARNINGS: female receiving (fingering), swearing, degradation kink, some praise kink, edging, cum play, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - it has been a hot minute since I wrote for an Ewan character, so forgive me I’m a little rusty.

this fic is dedicated to my soul sister @sahvlren as it was her bday recently, and she requested this specifically. I love you so very much, and am so thankful to have you as my dearest friend, boo. one day we shall meet, but for now we get freaky online! enjoy xoxox

+++ in light of the recent drama unfolding in this hellsite, I thought some good ole' smut would do no harm, right?

forgive me I shall edit this properly, but I must sleep for my night shift lol

You weren't exactly the perfect pair to exist, nor would any like minded person think it best to put you two together in a roo, let alone become intimate. And yet, so effortlessly you both meshed rather well...Michael, your "Norman No Mates" boyfriend [as he enjoyed putting it], was quite a mathematical genius. His family were somewhat stable and well off, however, he rejoiced in the idea that he worked his way into the academy, where as your situation was quite the opposite. Your father had attended Oxford and graduated, as did your grandfather, who also sponsored and funded many of its restorations and renovations. The ancient establishment owed many of its complexes to your family name, and hence, granted you a position in their literature field, warranted you did try to maintain your grades above a credit average, trimming it with a pass even...

You had tipsily stumbled upon Michael at some college party: he stood by some dark corner, a drink in hand and the other in his pocket, before you had ignorantly walked into him, mindless to your surroundings from intoxication. You had either gone to refill your drink or was seeking the bathroom [you struggle to remember the fine details of the night you had met], laughing obnoxiously at some joke your friend had uttered, before walking into the man that would ultimately make you weak in your knees.

"S-Sorry-" You softly slurred, spilling your drink on the floor, a droplet landing on your heel.

At first it sounded as though an apparent swear seemingly seethed between his curved lips, halting himself before cursing you further, as he adjusted his thin framed spectacles, marvelling at you.

"Y-You alright, love?"

The next thing you knew, you found yourself hot and heavy, heated bodies, grinding against one another, as Michael teased and etched his impressively long cock, at your silky folds. His mouth latched to your unmissable cleavage, as he suckled on your breasts like a new born babe to its mother's teat.

No man had ever made you feel more desired, and yet a fool at his beck and call. He uttered despicable taunts and jabs at you, whilst simultaneously, worshipping the ground you strut on.

"The sluttiest girl on campus just couldn't resist the cock of a geek, huh? Making her even more stupid than she is, look at you... Pathetic baby."

His words stung a compelling sensation, and yet you craved for more of his undivided attention. And seemingly, Michael granted you every fathomable bit he could muster. You were the girl beyond his dreams, needless to say, he never thought he even stood a chance with any girl, of that matter. And he as a man, beyond your tastes. However, the tension was palpable between you two, the chemistry undeniable.

You often found yourself unwittingly seeking his company, even risking your privilege in the confines of his dorm...

"How long left, Mikey. I'm s'bored!" You whinge, as you fidget and reposition yourself sprawled on your boyfriend's single-sized bed. Flinging your flip phone to the side, without a care for consequences [your parents would simply purchase a new one for you]. Despite being in somewhat sheerly covered attire, your ass cheeks just peaking through beneath your skirt, Michael barely felt the temptation to see [if he was even aware of your current outfit].

"Wait. Need to finish this equation."

His stern, unwavering voice and unfazed focus ontp the paper and textbooks before him, made your eyes roll with such annoyance, defeatedly sighing. The repetitive sound of his pencil thudding at his head, and your rhythmical humming, filled the silent void.

"Ugh- Michael, you should have just told me to not come- There was a party, I could have been at—"

"Do you not have an essay due by the end of the week?"

You contemplate for a few, solid seconds, before realising there was truth to his words. You did have an assignment due in the imminent days to come, and you had yet to begin.

"W-Well, yes... But I was hoping you would help me, handsome."

"Is that so?"

His attention still remained down, fixated on the text before him, yet his tone elevated, intrigue plaguing his words.

"I-I mean I'll still write it out, y-you just need to guide me—”

Swiftly he swivelled his entire body in the desk-top chair to turn unto you, a cheeky grin plastered across his chiselled face.

"Baby, you can barely do your times-tables, you think you can write an whole essay? Adorable..."

"But I sure know how to fuck you good. What man of your calibre can have a girl like me, say that to a man like you, huh?"

A darkness tinged in his piercing blue orbs, intently watching your every move and gesture, as he notices your hand hovering between your thighs, before disappearing beneath the short, skimpy skirt.

"Mhmm—"

Your thoughtless moans began to echo between the confined blank walls of the dorm, squirming against the neatly folded fabrics of the bed.

"And what do you think you're doing, exactly?"

Two digits continued to delve deeper between your folds, drawing slow, circular motions as your thumb remained rubbing at your clit. You had been biting your lips, only to release a moan, as you intended to respond obediently.

"M-My boyfriend's a bore, s-so I'm t-taking matters into m-my own h-hands—"

"Is that so?"

Without so much as a warning, a force pried your hands out from beneath your walls, your wetness coating your fingers and knuckles, glistening in the dim light. Within a few seconds, the emptiness between your legs vanished, as a rougher, more sizeable host embedded itself between your velvet folds.

With roughness, and vastly more pace, Michael's lengthy, slim digits began to etch deeper and deeper inside of you, pumping his fist in and out of you, as his other hand laid to rest against the mattress, propping him upright. Your hands immediately laid at your sides, firmly clenching the quilt between for some steadiness.

"Does my little slut have no patience? Brain to numb to think, she just wants to be fucked all the time, huh?"

"Y-Yes—"

Just as your ecstatic cries and moans grew more frequent, Michael's breathing sounded heavier, feeling your warm wetness making a mess all along his hands and the crevices of your entrance.

"This slut could've bent over to anyone. No-No, but she did for me, yeah? So needy for cock, she didn't even learn her times tables, huh?"

"I-I need you, M-Mikey—"

A third long digit shoved itself deeper into your tight hole, panting beneath your grip as you felt yourself fervently clench around him.

"That's right, princess. You need me. No man is worthy of this pretty cunt of yours, I earned it."

As you felt yourself progressively lose all your senses. gaining traction to the heat stirring below, Michael's sudden release felt cathartic. Watching him lick and lap every inch of your wetness lingering over his hand, made you feel delectable. Your lustful eyes searched below, for a fleeting second, you caught the growing commotion in his pants, as the bulge was evident, its shadow against the restricted fabric. As he tasted the last drop, a snarky smirk expanded across his handsome face, before beginning to unbelt and unbutton his beige trousers.

"C'mon princess, spread those legs like you always do, like you were born to do. Such a fucking whore, that's all you were meant for. Meant for me."

Aligning himself so effortlessly perfect against your, his reddened tip blushed against your sight, teasing your silky folds. His veins throbbed with excitement, almost palpable between your sensitive entrance, its length girth suddenly plunging itself ever so slowly inside of you.

With a first, rough shove, delving himself completely inside of you, his balls hitting at your rear, an escape of a low grunt vibrated against his lips, that remained hovering over your soft skin. Michael kept himself steadily propped atop of you: with each thrust, equally time and paced, his weight began to drop over you, applying the pressure down from above with his cock inside of you.

"The most perfect cunt, for the most perfect girl. And it's mine."

"M-Michael—"

"S-Stastically we a-are an anomaly, b-but my princess f-found me, like a good girl—”

“A-Anomaly?"

A deep, growling chuckle escaped his lips, his pace growing sloppier as he attempted to articulate: despite Michael having you weak in the knees in bed, he was still somewhat new at the act of sex. Struggling to juggle with the need to fuck and the need to explain, his lean, tall figure cowering over you, his eyes shut with ecstasy momentarily, before opening to glare and marvel at you breathlessly. Your lips latched onto his neck and collarbones in between your moans, intently sucking at his tender flesh, desperate to taste him, to leave remnants of your physical love, strewed across his body. Desperate to savour every inch of him.

"An odd couple, baby. B-But you take me so fucking well—"

"Mhmm—"

"There's no going back now, Princess..."

credit for divider - @/prettypixels-love

[multifandomwhore-003]

Deal? —Scrap

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x female! reader

Genre(s): smut, fluff, a bit angsty if you look closely

Summary: Finding a past love in the bedroom of your best friend's parents can lead to a lot more than just a quick catch-up.

Warnings: smut, fingering, no condoms (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, a bit of breeding link maybe.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 join taglist here

A/N: As much as I wanna be proud of this for being smut and therefore out of my comfort zone, I can't, you see this is what made me realize just how rusty I am in writing,like the fingers are creaking an screeching. Anyways, I tried my best, so... enoy?

Gif credits to whom it belongs

REQUESTS CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE,YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK

You could say it began right this second, finding yourself wrapped in a perfume that no longer had notes of peach and pear, the hours you had spent wandering around the crowd salted it with cigarettes and perhaps a vodka you shouldn't spending time thinking where it proceeded from. Taking a deep breath to relax was, a bad idea, was it the alcohol or this newfound smell that produced that wooziness? It was just for a couple of seconds at least since you could focus more clearly on the four walls you just stepped in, far too big for it being your old best friend's childhood room.

Reaching the windows to scan the city through the glass, glistening with passing cars every once in a while.

"Julie, you crazy bitch," you chuckled remembering how she had just recently bought the whole place to herself, including everything inside it, wanting to neglect her parents as much as they did her back when she was far too young to thirst revenge.

You could tell she hadn't changed anything, the side tables slightly covered with dust still, and the framed pictures of the "happy" couple on the shelves. She hadn't even dared to pull out her father's Cuban cigars she was always so curious about, the plastic around the rim being intact. Your curiosity peeked remembering her mother this time, the beautiful clothes that adorned her seemingly flawless frame, you paced quite rapidly to the walk-in closet, flicking through the infinite number of shoes and bags, finally reaching the hangers.

You didn't think twice before pulling out the most exquisite structure you ever laid your eyes on, lines curving in all the preferable places, covered in red hand-sewn crystals that matched the rest of the smooth fabric, invisible stitching, it was art. —It could pass as a Mugler— you thought, perhaps it was knowing none of Julie's things were ever cheap. You hesitated for a second contemplating your next actions.

"Fuck it," you began getting rid of the pink that had been covering your body the entire time, "She did say she was gonna gift me some anyway," you murmured. You could jump in excitement seeing how absolutely mesmerizing you looked, reflecting light that could easily be produced by your smile alone.

Before you had time to reach your phone from the bed the door closed, followed by rapid exhaling, you furrowed your brows, worrying more about the posible anxious someone.

"Are you okay?" you stepped out slowly.

The man jumped slightly, "Sorry, I'll leave," he began his exit.

"Don't, it's okay, you can stay here," you lowered your voice placing a hand on his arm carefully, "Do you need anything? Do you wanna leave?"

"No, I'm fine, I'm just-" he tried recovering his breath.

"It's okay take your time," you granted him a slight smile.

"I had to get out of there," he grinned, slightly more relaxed.

"What happened?"

"I was being ambushed,"

"By who?"

"Everyone,"

"Oh shit," you said a bit shocked, "What are you famous or something?" you tried to joke.

"I- I don't like using that word," he finally turned around.

"Okay, we'll use popular then, how's does that sound?"

"Way better," he was fully comfortable now.

"Ok Mr. Popular, do you wanna stay here the whole night? Or I can take you to the stairs and call you and Uber to be more discreet,"

"In that dress?" he pointed out.

"Oh! This isn't mine I kinda just borrowed it for a second, I'll take it off then," you simplified.

"Please don't, I was just messing with you, I'm Oscar by the way," he extended his hand as a motor raced by lighting his face.

You widened your eyes in a very pleasant surprise, "Oh my god, I knew the voice was familiar, fucking Pastry you should've started there asshole!" you pushed his chest.

With no time to ask you where you knew to call him that, his mind also clicked, "Y/N?"

"Yes, bitch! Oh my god!" you hugged him, "It's been so long, what are you doing here?! How did Julie even contact you?" your smile grew wider.

"Instagram!"

"Makes sense," you laughed embracing him again, "Look at you! You're a man!" you grabbed his shoulders, "Still got a baby face I see," you moved your hands to the edges of his face.

"Rude," he playfully pushed you away.

"Who am I kidding, back then I defended you to death whenever anyone pointed that out," you shrugged.

"They did?!" he found a new offense to that statement.

"Of course they did! Especially my parents,"

"Oh yeah, they never liked me did they?"

You just shook your head making him smile more.

"I would aks you how you've been but I already know, Mr. Rookie of the Year," you mocked, flipping your hair.

"I've been great, you? Did you end up marrying Zach Efron in the end?"

"Hilarious, truly," you squinted your eyes.

"You used to cry laughing at my jokes," he passed by you to sit on the bed.

"Yeah, well," you followed making him move to sit by his side, "In my defense a) I was madly in love with you," you rolled your eyes, "and b)My sense of humor was simpler at the precious age of 15"

"You were crazy about me," he nodded.

"Okay," you placed a hand on his face, "At least I didn't dedicate you a race on international TV which let me remind you! You lost," chuckled at the hilarious memory.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that!" he slightly slapped his thigh.

"I sure as hell didn't! It was the last race I ever watched,"

"Really?" his head turned suddenly.

"Yes, really, by the time you were on the next one we were beyond over,"

"That's right," he closed his eyes, "I'm sorry for ruining motorsport for you,"

"It's okay," you slapped the air, "The heartbreak was far worse than never having to watch you again,"

"You broke up with me I was the one who was completely shattered,"

"Hey! So was I,"

He crossed his arms, "For how long exactly?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, "A week," you looked away.

"Ouch, I suffered all summer Christmas thanks to you,"

"I'm sorry," you scrunched up your nose.

"Wanna know something embarrassing?"

"More embarrassing than losing that race? I don't think there is anything that can be better than that,"

"What if there is?" he cocked up his head.

"I'll ..." you thought for a second, "I'll tell you my most embarrassing story, deal?"

"Deal," he accepted, "When I wrote to Santa I told him to gift me the golden locket you saw in your favorite movie, the Nutcracker one with Barbie so I could give it to you because all I wanted was your heart back again. Imagine how much I cried when instead all I got was an Xbox,"

You placed a hand to his heart, "Aw, that's adorable, but yeah it sounds pretty embarrassing considering your parents had to read that,"

"Your turn now,"

"Okay, but after that you can't tease me about it,"

"Alright,"

"After we broke up, the first time I kissed someone else, we were at a gas station, and when he bought me some gummy bears as I thanked him I said 'thank you, Oscar'"

He tried to bite down his laughter.

"He absolutely flipped, and dumped me that night in front of my parents who were waiting by the window,"

"Wow," he gulped clenching his jaw, "That's- That's rough," he cleared his throat.

You nodded slowly, "Humbling experience for sure," you sighed resting your head on him, "So, let me guess, you escaped the people who wanted to take pictures with you," you pointed at the door.

"Don't tell me about it,"

"I thought all you wanted was to be The Great Oscar Piratri," you exaggerated with your hands.

"Not great at all to be harassed all the time,"

"Yeah, sounds awful to have so many fans and money..."

"That part's fun," he admitted, "But everything else is just a bit of a nightmare,"

"I'm sorry, but you know what," you tried to lighten the mood, "What I'm absolutely most sorry about is that we..." you stood up taking his hand, "Never ended up living right... there!" you pointed at the most beautiful building of the view.

"Well for starters, you never married me,"

"I did! Well not legally but we had vows and everything,"

"And my cousin as our officiant, what a mess that was,"

"And all for a wedding night, that we never had,"

"I still can't believe we faked a wedding just so we could have sex,"

"To be fair, back then we were good children who followed God's rules," you whipped your index finger dramatically as you turned to see him.

"Your parents were awful,"

"About us yes, but you have to admit they weren't too bad about everything else,"

"No, they just made you break up with me after three years, nothing big really," he pouted sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, really, I never wanted that to happen, I was just- Young and brainwashed," you cupped his face, "And also, the next three years we spent hating each other didn't help your image so much," you tilted your head.

"Yeah, sorry for egging your house those Halloweens,"

"Don't apologize, me kidnapping your dog for a week was way out of line,"

"Archie is still alive, you know?"

"Really? That's great!"

"He's a bit old, but staying strong,"

"He better be, he tackled me down a couple of times when I visited you,"

"I still have those videos," he said proudly.

"No, you don't,"

"Yes, my mom still has my old phones,"

"Why though?" you complained.

"It's never been easy for her to let go of stuff,"

"Yeah, I remember she always invited me over to yours while you weren't around, but I just couldn't do it, I felt way too guilty,"

"I have to ask," he let out, "If it weren't for your parents, how long do you think we would've lasted?"

"I'm not sure, but I can tell you that back then I wanted you- I- I wanted this," you signaled between the two of you, "Forever," you grinned, nostalgia and regret adorning your entire semblance.

"I can rest peacefully now," he caressed your forearms.

"Why?"

"I had a piggy bank for our future engagement ring,"

You opened your mouth slightly, "I had a savings account for that Rolex you always wanted,"

"Guess what?"

"What?"

He showed you his wrist, "I got it on my own,"

"Show-off," you spat.

"It's better than stealing," he looked down at the garment adorning you, long forgotten under this conversation.

"I wasn't stealing, I was just- trying it on," you defended.

"It looks good,"

"I know,"

"Now who's the show-off?"

"At least you get to keep it,"

"Hurts doesn't it,"

"Fuck off, you can win all the races you want, but I bet you still can't beat me at wrestling," you got close to his face before walking slowly to the other side of the room.

"Is that a dare?"

"I don't know, if you're brave enough it is, if you're a coward then it isn't," you crossed your arms.

"I have muscles now, it wouldn't be fair," he added with cockiness.

"Don't patronize me, I do ballet, my legs are far stronger than your arms,"

"Bet," he stepped closer.

"Yeah, bet!" you clapped your hands before giggling as you began this ridiculous dance.

If you both hadn't been laughing the entire time you probably would've seriously hurt yourselves given how careless you were being, throwing each other on the bed and the floor over and over again. After a couple of minutes, the laughter stopped leaving you as panting messes still struggling for dominance, it wasn't until he laid on top of you that you considered giving up.

"I told you, I had muscles," he paused in between words.

"And I-" you gathered yourself as quickly as you could straddle his legs and with much adrenaline and heat flip him over, pushing his hands down to completely immobilize him, "I told you I did ballet asshole," You grinned devilishly in victory, "Ready to surrender?"

"Yeah, fine, I'm done," he truly wasn't, yet the sight of you in that position alone told him to stand down.

"All that driver training for what? Still, lose to your ex-girlfriend?" you let go of his hands only.

He chuckled under his breath, struggling to stand on his elbows, "Well, when she's the one that goes away, you have to let her win, right?" he confessed.

You licked your lips without knowing how to respond, however, being fully aware that something about you not removing yourself from his body told you that this was no longer part of a friendly conversation, perhaps it never really was.

—The one that got away— he had just described everything that needed to be said in one simple phrase.

"Sorry," he began to realize his words getting  his back to straighten up, "I didn't mean to make it awkward,"

"You didn't," you were incredibly doe-eyed as you met his gaze, "Just shut up before you do," you pulled him by the collar of his shirt kissing him. He knew how to respond, as he immediately hugged your waist with one hand, resting the other one on your thigh right before the hem of the dress.

"Carry me to the bed Oscar," you gasped in between his mouth, to which he obeyed, carefully lying your bodies to fir perfectly, like you always knew they did. Your tounge slipped in between to which he groaned in your mouth, fingers begining to inch closer to where all his teenage wet dreams met.

"Do it, please," you whispered, "Don't wait longer than you already have, just do it,"

As much as a part of him wanted to treasure this moment as much as he could, his more carnal side acted on behalf of your encouragement, circling your clit with his thumb as you moaned into him. You slightly thanked you were fucking him until now, a way more experienced and knowledgable version of the man you'd thought to be the love of your life.

He traveled to the back of your ear right, knowing more than guessing your sweet spot was still there, confirming it by how you lightly arched your back, pulling on his hair as he left a mark you were probably gonna regret so much later, pulling back to allow him access to your neck and jawline.

"You're so fucking wet,"

"Proud of yourself for that?"

"A lot,"

You could feel him grinning against your collarbone, slowly feeling the purple stamps, trailing to the top of your breasts that the dress ever so slightly allowed out, he contemplated his options for a moment, admiring your body in such a piece.

"Rip it off if you want," you mumbled.

"As tempting as it sounds, I want you to wear it for next time, then I'll rip it off, deal?"

—Next time— what twisted grave had you dove yourself into?

"Deal," you nodded.

"Now be a doll, and help yourself out of it,"

"Jesus Oscar, did you always have that under your sleeve?" you unzipped the sides.

"I saved it just for you," he pressed his thumb harder making you moan louder.

You slipped it over your head, tossing it away, "Keep saying stuff like that and maybe I'll marry you for real, deal?"

"Deal," he said against one of the nipples before beginning to suck on it.

"Multitasking motherfucker," you groaned feeling his middle finger pumping slowly into you, he moves his hands around for a living, of course, he was good at fingering, way too fucking good.

All kinds of sounds bounced off the walls and into your ears, sounds you only ever imagined on those lonely nights after the breakup, and so did he. More of your moand as he added his index finger drowned in the vibrations of the music for the outside to never find out how awfully loud you being for him, just for him; especially if his thumb switched to eight circles as he focused on your other tit.

"I'm close- I'm so close Oscar," you begged, "Go faster," you gulped, "Please,"

The most pornographic sound escaped his lips, "Beg again, beg for me," you obeyed without a second thought as he also did as told, keeping his pace as you reached your orgasm, whether you screamed or just raised your voice, no one will ever know, the music from outside and the cars rushing by braiding it in. By the time you realized, his belt clinked on the carpet floor, feeling as if in one motion everything in between you two was now discarded.

"I'm on the pill by the way," you whispered.

"Wasn't planning on having children until that wedding of ours, deal?" his tip rubbed against.

"Deal," you answered without ever crossing your mind how actually terrifying the idea of being pregnant was, just to have him inside you you would've signed a prenup right then and there.

He joined your lips again as he slipped inside, filling you up to the brim, with an unnecessary elevated ego that this whole situation resulted in, he thrusts into you mercilessly, you couldn't complain, his hands supporting his body on your hair, tangling all around the cover and his skin. Now being completely shameless it seemed as if you were competing to see who could make the most noise. You both came undone almost at the same time, Oscar having to battle with himself to get hard again as you followed his lead.

"I wasn't joking about next time," he mindlessly whispered in the crook of your neck.

"Neither was I, my place next time, deal?"

"Deal"

[pickingupmymercedes]

Thank you, for everything (it takes a village) - Lewis Hamilton ft. Ayrton Senna

Little something for the 30th Anniversary of Senna's legacy

pairing: Senna! Reader X Lewis Hamilton

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, 30th anniversary of Senna's legacy

wordcount: +4k

song: In your arms - Birdy

a/n: People in Brasil don't say is the anniversary of his death but rather of his legacy, and it's such a beautiful way to see it. I hope Ayrton knows, wherever he is, how loved he still is.

a/n.2: Ayrton was known as Beco/Becão by his family and friends

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi! (Also, my written portuguese is a bit rusty, so if there's anything weird, please let me know)

______________________________________________________________

When hope went away I still held on, to the love that you gave, it’s all I’ve got of you now. I will never know you, don’t get to understand, no answers to questions. It’s too late for that. But I was in your arms, once

A pre-dawn Miami humidity clung to y/n like a second skin, even inside the automatically cooled hotel room. The city slept, but the salty air carried a raw energy that mirrored the turmoil brewing within her. Today, the 1st of May, was a day she always needed to face alone.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, the weight growing with each passing moment. Today, the air itself seemed thick with an unspoken grief, a shared memory of loss that resonated across the globe. 30 years. Three decades since the world had watched in horror as lives changed forever, hers included.

The sheets felt too restrictive, the silence too loud. Pulling them back, she tiptoed past the rumpled form of Lewis, still fast asleep. He'd offered to come with her, to run by the beach together, but she needed this. Needed the solitude, the rhythmic pounding of her feet against the pavement to chase away the ghosts of a past she barely remembered.

Miami slept, bathed in the faint glow of pre-dawn light, but Y/N felt wide awake, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. Stepping out onto the balcony, the salty air stung her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she gazed out at the vast expanse of the ocean, the darkness slowly giving way to a canvas of vibrant oranges and pinks.

A single tear traced a path down her cheek, a silent tribute to a love stolen too soon. Every year on this day, it was as if the world held its breath, waiting for her grief to surface. This anniversary wasn't a celebration; it was a stark reminder of the void that had forever shaped her life.

The need to move, to outrun the memories that threatened to consume her, became an insistent ache. With each step, a memory flickered to life, but one always stood out the most, the one few people knew of.

She was four, piloting her tiny kart around a makeshift track at Interlagos. The familiar scent of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes flooded her senses, transporting her back to a time before tragedy struck. Y/n grinned, her hair whipping in the wind, as she pushed her little kart to its limits.

A wild turn, a sickening jolt, and the world tilted sideways. Then, strong arms scooped her up. "Tudo bem aí, filha?" (Everything okay there, darling?)  Her father's voice, warm and reassuring. He checked her over, a playful glint in his dark brown eyes. "Você tava indo bem, se assustou?" (You were doing great, did you scare yourself?)

Y/n shook her head, a defiant tear clinging to her cheek. “Eu acho que tá bom por hoje já.” (I think that’s enough for today) Ayrton ruffled her hair, a conforting glint in his eyes. “Não pai, eu quero baixar o tempo da volta”(No dad, I wanna lap faster) little y/n stood her ground, already half way back into her kart. "Vamos voltar lá e mostrar como se faz então, Senninha” (Let’s go back there and show who’s boss then, Senninha).

The memory faded, replaced by the rhythmic sound of the waves. Anya stopped, chest heaving. Frustration gnawed at her. She would never know that feeling of hearing him cheer her on in that deep, familiar voice again. All she had were these fleeting snippets, these echoes of a life stolen too soon.

Each stride was a battle cry against the past, a desperate attempt to find some semblance of peace. She ran until the sun climbed higher, painting the sky in vibrant hues, until her lungs burned and her legs screamed for mercy. Finally, Y/n slowed to a walk, chest heaving, sweat stinging her eyes.

Collapsing onto a weathered bench, she leaned forward, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. As the initial wave of exhaustion subsided, a new clarity washed over her. The memories would always be there, a bittersweet reminder of a love lost.

But today, she would celebrate his life, his passion, his legacy that lived on, not just in her name, but in the hearts of countless who still chanted his name at races.

Returning to the hotel, Y/n showered, the steam slowly clearing the remnants of the run and the emotional turmoil. Opening the bathroom door, she found Lewis propped up on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He looked up, a concerned look in his warm brown eyes.

"Morning," he said, his voice slightly raspy. "Early run?"

She offered a tired smile. "Needed to clear my head." She sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling a towel around her damp hair. "Big day ahead"

Lewis put down his phone, his gaze intent on her. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice softer now. "You alright?"

Taking another deep breath, she met his gaze. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Just… emotional, even more so this year"

Lewis reached out and took her hand, his touch a warm anchor in the storm of her emotions. "No judgment," he said quietly. "Today isn't easy for you, I know."

Y/n leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his understanding. "Interviews all day and the dinner at night" she sighed. "They want me to relive it all – the memories, the grief. It gets exhausting sometimes."

Lewis nodded. "Then maybe you should have your people reschedule them. There's no need to—"

She cut him off with a gentle shake of her head. "No, Lew. I can't hide from it. Today may be hard, but it's important. It's a chance to celebrate his life, to keep his memory alive." she squeezed his hand, a newfound determination strengthening her resolve. "I just…" she hesitated, her voice thick with emotion, "I wish I could remember more."

Lewis's gaze softened further. "You may not have years of childhood memories, but you carry his spirit in you. His passion, his strength, that's part of who you are."

Y/n looked out the window, at the city slowly waking up to a new day. His words held truth. She may not have clear memories of her father, but his legacy, his love, was woven into the fabric of her being.

Taking another deep breath, she met Lewis's gaze, a small smile danced in her eyes "I hope so.”

Today would be impossibly hard. As people celebrated a hero, she would mourn a loss, but they would all be facing the future nonetheless. He may have been gone, but the love he gave her remained, with her and in her.

"I remember you my way, It’s not perfect or fair, I paint you with colours, That weren’t ever there. Feels harder these days after so long, ‘Cause my memory fades"

The sterile hotel conference room felt strangely warm, the air thick with a mix of anticipation and unspoken grief. Y/n sat opposite Galvão Bueno, the legendary Brazilian motorsport commentator, his kind eyes reflecting a lifetime of witnessing triumphs and tragedies on the track. This wasn't just another interview. Galvão knew Ayrton. Knew him not just as a driver, but as a friend, a competitor, a kindred spirit who left a void in Brazilian hearts, and most acutely, in Y/n's.

The interview began, a dance between formality and shared history. Galvão's questions flowed, laced with a quiet respect that Y/n appreciated. "O Ayrton" he began, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips "sempre teve uma maneira diferente de cativar o público” (always had a way of captivating a room"

Y/n nodded, a flicker of curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Ele tinha” (He did) she admitted "Mas para ser bem honesta, eu lembro de sempre ficar puxando ele para sair dos lugares porque ele parava para conversar com todo mundo” (But to be honest, I remember always dragging him out of place since he would stop and talk to everyone)

A warm chuckle escaped Galvão's lips at her confession. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Você sabia que antes de toda corrida, ele fazia um ritualzinho? Ele parava na frente do carro, fechava os olhos, e... bom, ninguém sabe direito o que ele fazia. Mas ele tocava o carro em três lugares específicos – o nariz, a roda direita dianteira, e aqui” (Did you know that before every race, he'd have this little ritual? He'd stand by his car, close his eyes, and…well, no one knew exactly what he did, but he'd touch the car in three specific places – the nose cone, the front right wheel, and then, right here) Galvão tapped his chest over his heart.

Y/n smiled, surprised that someone still remembered that sequence. But, although this was the Ayrton Senna she knew from the countless documentaries and newsreels, how he recounted that from memory was a glimpse of a private Ayrton, a man seeking solace and strength before the roar of the engines began, not something she would notice while watching a video.

"E tem mais, Senninha” (There's more, Senninha) he said, using the affectionate nickname many Brazilians called her. "Você sabe que ele era muito supersticioso. Ele nunca usava um capacete novo pela primeira vez em um final de semana de corrida. Sempre insistia em um mais velho, mesmo que estivesse ruim para usar.” (He was fiercely superstitious, you see. He wouldn't wear a new helmet for the first time on a race weekend. Always insisted on the old one, even if it was a little worse for wear.)

Y/n couldn't help but let out a small laugh, a welcome sound that broke the tension in the room. "Parece exatamente algo que ele faria” (That sounds exactly like something he’d do) she said, a newfound appreciation blooming in her chest.

Galvão continued, weaving a tapestry of anecdotes. He spoke of Ayrton's meticulous work ethic, his relentless pursuit of perfection, and then, with a twinkle in his eye, of his playful side. "Ele sempre arrastava os reporters brasileiros para o kart em Interlagos, lá onde você aprendeu a pilotar” (He'd always drag Brazilian reporters to go-kart at Interlagos, right there where you learned how to race" he reminisced, a fond smile creasing his face. "E deixa eu te contar, seu pai sempre ganhava da gente, por muito!" (And let me tell you, your father would always bet us, by far)

Y/n listened, captivated. These were stories of a man, not just a legend. A man who found joy in competition, even outside the high-pressure world of Formula One. As the interview progressed, a kaleidoscope of Ayrton unfolded before her, a man filled with complexities and contradictions, yet undeniably her father.

Stepping out of the stifling conference room, Y/n felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. Galvão's interview had stirred a potent cocktail of emotions within her – a heady mix of pride, nostalgia, and a gnawing sense of loss. Back in her hotel room, she found her ant Viviane unpacking a basket of goodies as she waited for her youngest niece. The scent of warm pão de queijo filled the air, a familiar comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

"Você chegou, florzinha" (You’re here, little flower) the elder woman said, her voice as warm as the sun, pulling Y/n into a tight embrace. "Como foi?” (How did it go)

Y/n sank into the hug, the scent of lavender and her ant’s comforting embrace temporarily pushing aside the weight of the interview. "Foi bom” (It was good) she mumbled, pulling away slightly. “Galvão knew Dad well, that's for sure” y/n’s changed to English, hoping it’d be okay to use the language she didn’t have to think so hard to answer back in.

Both women sat by the outdoor sitting area of the room, the crash of the waves a comforting distraction as y/n ate the last bits of the cheese bread that were being served all day during the interviews on the anniversary and promotions for the new Netflix show.

"I believe everything's going well for the dinner latter tonight” the younger offered, more out of obligation than conviction. Viviane’s gaze sharpened, the lines around her eyes crinkling with a quiet understanding. She held Y/n’s gaze until she asked "But something troubles you, doesn't it?"

Y/n hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. It was a familiar pattern her family knew all too well, the switch to English, the fiddling, the lack of glint in the eyes she had inherited from Ayrton.

Taking a deep breath, y/n confessed, "It's just…all these interviews, all these stories about Dad. I feel like everyone knew a part of him I never did."

A shadow flickered across Viviane’s face, a brief echo of the grief they both still carried. She reached out, gently squeezing Y/n's hand. "My love" she began, her voice soft yet firm “Beco was a complex man. Even those closest to him couldn't fully grasp him. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature on the track, but off it…" she paused, a wistful smile gracing her lips. "He was a private man, and yes, perhaps a little distant at times. He lived for his racing, dedicating every fiber to it."

Y/n nodded, a familiar ache tightening her chest. "It's not that I blame him," she said quietly. "He was the best."

Viviane’s smile softened. "He was, my darling. But being the best came at a cost. It left little room for the mundane, the everyday things that build memories."

A flicker of a childhood memory sparked in Y/n's mind – the faint scent of her father's cologne, the warmth of his hand enveloping hers as they walked through a park. They weren't grand gestures, but they were hers, proof of a love that existed beyond trophies and championships.

The elder saw the shift in Y/n's eyes, the glimmer of a forgotten memory. "Não se compare com o Galvão ou com qualquer outro, meu amor” (Don't compare yourself to Galvão or the others, my love) she said gently. "Você é a filha dele. Você conheceu o Beco, o homem com o mesmo olhar que o seu” (You are his daughter. You knew Beco, the man with the same eyes as yours)

Y/n's gaze drifted out to the bustling Miami cityscape, a blur compared to the vivid image forming in her mind's eye – a playful smile on her father's face as he taught her how to say pão de queijo. It was a fleeting memory, but a precious one nonetheless.

The stories, though fragmented, were pieces of a larger puzzle, a picture of her father that was starting to take shape, not just as a legendary driver, but as a man capable of love, laughter, and quiet moments of joy.

As they finished their lunch, Viviane placed a comforting hand on Y/n's cheek. "Go now, my darling," she said, her voice soft yet strong. "Celebrate your father, honor his memory. But don't forget to celebrate the love you shared, the love that lives on within you."

Y/n nodded, tears welling up in her eyes, this time tears of gratitude for the woman who had been a constant source of love and support throughout her life. Leaning in, they embraced tightly. "Obrigada, tia. Por tudo" (Thank you, antie. For everything) she whispered, the words thick with emotion.

As she left the hotel room later, for another round of interviews before the official dinner, Y/n went to the window, gazing out at the ocean once again, taking a deep breath, she whispered, "Obrigada, pai. Por tudo.” (Thank you, dad. For everything). It was a simple phrase, but for her, it held the weight of a lifetime of love and an unspoken promise to keep his legacy alive.

"And these aren’t tears because you’re gone, But for all the years that we lost, All those times I missed that love, Had it just for a moment"

As the night dawned in Miami, the heat dissipated but the humidity continued to clung to the city like a second skin. Y/n bustled around the room, a flurry of nervousness. The dinner to celebrate Ayrton Senna’s legacy started in a couple of hours and although the event had been meticulously planned for weeks, and by at least 30 people, the weight of the world felt concentrated on Y/n shoulder’s, the formal host to the dinner.

Lewis emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his lower waist, beads of water clinging to his dark braids. He stopped short at the sight of Y/n, a smile spreading across his face as he took sight of her sat perched on the edge of the bed, a faded white t-shirt of his hanging loosely on her slender frame, a white towel turbaned around her wet hair.

"Planning on hitting the town like that?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "Although" he added, his voice dropping a touch lower, "I do love the look."

Y/n laughed, a sound that banished the last vestiges of worry from Lewis's heart. "Not quite," she said, her smile widening. "I’m trying to figure out what to post"

He noticed her phone held open on the bed, displaying two video options. As he walked closer, his bare chest brushing against hers for a fleeting moment – a small reminder of the intimacy they shared – Y/n looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a light he hadn't yet seen earlier in the day.

"Help me choose" she said, her voice filled with a newfound energy.

He picked her up and sat her on his laps, occupying her place by the edge of the bed, the scent of his shower gel a subtle but pleasant counterpoint to the sweet aroma of the lotion she had applied. He leaned over to see the two videos.

The first one, showed a baby Y/n, barely a year old, toddling through a sun-dappled garden, her chubby arms flailing as she chased a flurry of brightly colored butterflies. In the background, Ayrton with a gentle smile on his face, playfully swatting the butterflies away from his daughter with a swatting motion.

The second video, showed a slightly older Y/n, around two years-old, in a swimming pool. Ayrton, submerged in the water next to her, was demonstrating how to blow bubbles. Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes, mimicked his actions, creating a flurry of glistening bubbles that danced around her face.

"The bubble one. Something about that mischievous gleam in your eyes always has me hooked” Lewis said, amusement dancing in his voice

Y/n laughed, a sound so genuine and unburdened that it made Lewis's heart skip a beat. "I was always a rowdy thing" she admitted, a playful glint in her own eyes.

"A charming one, at that," Lewis confirmed, reaching out to kiss her shoulder. Picking the video, Lewis handed the phone back to her. "Let the world see that side to you" Y/n grinned, tapping on the screen to schedule the post.

She got up and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed, and a few minutes later Lewis walked into Y/n intently listening to her phone on speaker, as she fiddled with a stray curl as she spoke.

"Adriane" she soothed; her voice laced with a warmth that cut through the phone's static. "Você está indo como minha convidada, lembra?” (You're coming as my guest, remember?)

A nervous laugh tinkled on the other end. “Eles sabem disso?” (Do they know that?). Andriane, Ayrton's last girlfriend and a prominent Brazilian television personality.

Y/n bit her lip, a pang of sympathy shooting through her. "Eu sei.” (I do know) she sighed. "Eu sei que eles nunca realmente te aceitaram, mas você era diferente. Você foi a única que ele me apresentou” (I know they never really accepted you, but you were different. You were the only one he introduced me."

A brief silence followed, then Adriane spoke, her voice softer now. "Ele queria uma família, Y/n. Uma família para você. Ele sempre falava isso, seu futuro, com ele” (He wanted a family, Y/n. A family for you. He talked about it all the time, your future, with him)

Y/n's heart clenched. Memories flickered – fleeting glimpses of her father smiling at her from across a dinner table, his eyes holding a tenderness she hadn't quite understood at the time. Perhaps, she thought, there had been more to those moments than she'd realized.

"Obrigada Adriane, por tudo. Por ter sido parte da vida dele, e por ser parte da minha, do seu jeito.” (Thank you Adriane, for everything. For being a part of his life, and for being a part of mine, in your own way) she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Adriane sniffled softly and then laughed “Você é tão charmosa quanto ele, Senninha” (You are as much of a charmer as he was, Senninha) a sound that banished the last traces of tension. "Vai dar tudo certo.” (Everything will be alright)

With a final exchange of goodbyes, Y/n hung up. Glancing over at Lewis, who was attempting to understand the few Portuguese words he could understand. She took a deep breath. "My family’s not gonna make this any easier" she sighed, her voice hesitant.

Lewis turned and reached for her, pulling her by the waist with a questioning look etched on his face. Y/n, feeling a flicker of anxiety, explained the conversation, but mostly of the unwavering loyalty she felt towards the woman who held such a significant piece of her father's story.

As she finished, Lewis placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with understanding as you gave him a sad smile and nod

"It doesn't matter how long it's been" Lewis continued, his voice firm yet gentle. "Grief doesn't have a deadline."

Y/n remained silent, the weight of his words settling in. He knew the anniversary was a constant reminder, a punch to the gut every year. He could only imagine the whirlwind of emotions it brought – the bittersweet memories mixed with the crushing weight of what could have been.

"It feels unfair, sometimes…" she started, her voice catching signaling she wouldn’t complete her thoughts. Lewis tightened his hold on her, pulling her closer. "It is unfair," he agreed, his voice a low rumble against her ear

Y/n leaned into his touch, seeking solace in his words and the steady beat of his heart. The dam finally broke, and a light sob went thought her body. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. Lewis held her close, whispering reassurances against her hair, letting her feel without judgment.

"Every year," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "it's like a punch to the gut. A reminder of all the birthdays, holidays, just…everyday moments I missed with him." Her voice cracked. "Everyone has stories, memories. They remember his laugh, his jokes, his warmth. All I have are these…flashes of moments, barely enough to string together a semblance of who he was."

Lewis didn't try to fix it, to offer empty platitudes. He simply held her gaze as she spoke, a silent promise etched in his eyes. He wouldn't try to replace the memories she never had, but he would be a part of her future, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold.

“It's okay to mourn the future that was stolen from you” he whispered, his voice gentle, as Y/n leaned into his touch, a flicker of something akin to peace flickering in her eyes. "Do you think he would have liked me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The question hung heavy in the air. It was a question she'd probably grappled with for years, a silent fear gnawing at the edges of her grief. Lewis knew he couldn't give her a definitive answer, but he could offer her the solace of a possibility.

"There's no doubt he would have loved you fiercely." he said, his voice firm with conviction. “And he would have been so proud of the woman you've become."

Silence settled between them once more, but this time it was a comfortable silence, filled with a newfound understanding. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For being here, for listening, for understanding."

Y/n turned, her eyes meeting his in the mirror, a fresh wave of tear forming in her eyelids. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"These aren't sad tears" she explained, wiping away at her eyes "They're just…wish you were here' kind of tears… For this" Y/n gestured at the phone on the counter. "For the celebration, for being surrounded by people who loved him. I just wish he could be here too."

Her voice softened, an acceptance in her eyes. The pain and loss would always be there, a part of her story. But there was also space for joy, for celebrating his life, and for building a future for herself.

As he pulled her into a warm embrace, Lewis whispered into her ear, "He is here, Y/n. In you, in your strength, in the mischief you still carry in your eyes. Every step you take forward is partly because of his love for you."

They stood there for a moment longer, a silent conversation passing between them. Y/n pulled away, wiping the last vestiges of moisture from her cheeks.

"Alright then" she said, a playful glint back in her eyes. "Let's go celebrate Dad. And show Miami a little Brazilian hospitality."

Lewis grinned. "Lead the way" his arms wrapping her and turning her around so he could kiss her.

The 30th anniversary of his death, although grim and a meticulously planned affair, held a significance that went beyond events, interview and RSVPs. It was a celebration of a life well-lived, a father cherished, and a daughter determined to carry his legacy forward, one mischievous bubble at a time.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

[moonlight-sonata99]

What we've built

Hunter x F!ex jedi reader

This has SPOILERS from the series finale!

Tumblr deleted the original draft I had🥹 which was LONG AS HELL but here we are.Sorry for any mistakes that may have went unnoticed! Also I'm currently thinking about writing a crosshair and wrecked one hehehe

"So...your leaving. Just like that?" A voice called out in the darkness, as omega packed in her room. She had obviously not been expecting anyone to be home,Hunter had went out a while ago. And The women in front of her was meant to be asleep long ago.

"I...no..?" Omega grinned awkwardly, and the women in front of her only gave her a deadpanned expression as she leaned on the doorway as if blocking omegas way...

"I need to-"

"I know." The women sighed, getting off the doorway and walking next to omega, and picked up and folded the clothes and places them in her pack. Omega only looked at her and sat down on the bed, the sadness somewhat getting to her.

"Dont feel guilty" the older women said,

"It's what you have to do" she added as omega stared at her. Omega remembers when she first met her. The woman was on tantis, and when omega had found her..she her hands were tied and she looked tired...now she stood before her.

"When I was born,They took me to the jedi temple," the woman said, looking down at the clothes in front of her. "I never had the chance to become what I wanted to be." She said softly, walking to omega and gesturing her to stand, and so omega did.

"I won't deny you" the woman whispered softly, her voice was trembling. And omega began to feel her eyes mist. "You will always be that little girl on tantis" The woman smiled and hugged omega.

"I love you" she said as omega hugged her back, tears running down her cheek.

"I love you to"

The woman and omega packed up the rest of omegas belongings and The woman opened the door as omega walked our, and turned back with a sad smile.

"Dont you dare think about not coming back" the woman instructed, waving her finger at the girl. And omega laughed "I promise " she said and hugged her one last time.

"Goodbye" omega said into her shoulder and the woman tapped her back,

"Goodbye omega," the woman said softly. And omega pulled away, and turned her back and walked away. The woman only watched as the tears began to fill her eyes once again, and she leaned on the doorway, keeping her eyes on omegas figure until it disappeared in the distance.

The night remained, and the woman tugged on her long sleeved top, and she walked to the cliffs and hiked down. There the waves crashed and she looked around, and found a familiar figure sitting on the rocks.

"You alright?" She called out,and Hunter's head turned to see the woman climbing up the rocks. He met her halfway and offered his hand, which she gladly took. She noticed the ship was long gone, and she sighed.

"I suppose," hunter said, a but if sadness in his voice. The two walked together and sat down watching the soon dissapear.

"She will be alright" the woman nodded softly, "we've...taught her well"

"You sound..somewhat unsure" hunter chuckled looking at her with a smile.

"I felt I was bit rusty," she admits, opening her palms. "And all I know is how to fight like a jedi. I hope I wasn't too harsh, " she says, her eyes darting to the sea

"You did fine" hunter smiles, taking her hand in his. "We did fine"

The woman smiled and let her free hand on top of his, his hands were filled with old scars, and rough. He had taken up fishing and other hobbies since their stay here.

"We have, haven't we?" She says in thought. "If you had told me years ago that if I married a clone, I don't think I would've believed you."

Hunter laughed and she looked at her,

"If you had told me if I had married a jedi, I don't think I wouldn't believe either."

The two chuckled, and basked in eachothers presence.

"It's nice,what we've built is beautiful," she said softly, leaning closer to him and putting her head on his shoulder. He only hummed and looked down at her. His wifes face is also marked with her years, but he pays no mind. She is just as beautiful as the day he layed eyes on her.

He leans his head down on hers and admires the waves that continue to rock back and forth,

"Hmm..this reminds me, you have another one at home that needs you" the woman teases and hunter grimaces, thinking about the young girl back at home. "Ehhhh I think she doesn't need me as much, I think she'll need you" he replies with a smile and the woman laughs.

"As if!"

[goodgirlofglory]

Ambrosial / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 7,1k

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit content, mutual pining, scent kink, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, barely-there-handjob (like, not really at all), coming on clothes, a little bit of sweat kink? Sort of filth kink (not scat or anything like that but like, Bucky likes it messy), Bucky worshiping reader.

Summary: With his heightened senses, Bucky knows no peace when it comes to his olfactory system. Sweat, rotting food and sewage – the smells of the world surrounds him day in and day out. His only reprieve is the carefully curated space of his private quarters – and you, the sweet, new member of the team. With your unique, mouth-watering scent, it’s all he can do to not lose control around you. What happens when you unexpectedly cross that line between the two of you, and Bucky gets an opportunity to do more than just smell?

Note: My first Bucky fic eyooooo. He's a simp. It's weird, I feel like I'm so stuck in 2016 mcu. All I can picture is newly liberated-from-Hydra Bucky at the compound post civil war. But I reeeally liked this concept, and scent kinks really get me going. Anyone agree?

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the contents of the warnings upset you.

Minors not welcome.

My work is not to be distributed outside my blog.

Replies, reblogs, likes and messages are amazing<3

Coffee, petrol, rusty iron, wet dog, shit, blood and old toothpaste. For as long as Bucky could remember, he could smell really well.

All his senses were heightened. The serum that made him a super soldier saw to that. But of all the senses, smell affected Bucky the most. Whether it made him think of a memory, alerted him to danger, gave him pleasure or was a bother. Most often it was the last one. Garbage, old sweat, farts and rotting food was a constant discomfort to him, assaulting his poor olfactory system wherever he went.

And no one, save for Steve, seemed to get why Bucky preferred to keep his rooms in the compound so clean. He feared Sam would never stop laughing that time he found the scented candle in Bucky's bathroom.

"You're killing me here, Buck! Lavender and rose petals," Sam had choked out between fits of laughter, wiping tears while clapping Bucky's shoulder.

"First of all, don't call me that, and second, fuck off," was all Bucky could say to his own defence. Steve had given him a look of understanding sympathy, while you had only chuckled at Sam's amusement. Bucky let Sam have his laugh and kept the candle.

You were the newest addition to the compound, and though you and Bucky hit it off in a polite and respectful tone, Bucky didn't really know you outside your skills and specialties in the field (which he had mostly learned from reading your file - not actually talking to you). The two of you didn't seem to have much in common besides a shared love for food. Your rooms were just near the kitchen, like Bucky's, so whenever something good was cooking, you both would come sniffing.

So, Bucky didn’t really know much about you, except that you had the sweetest scent he’d ever smelled. Rich, slightly spicy, a mix of dried herbs and honey mixed with warm skin. It made him think of lazy mornings in soft sheets, quiet, content walks in lush forests, and sex. It was so appealing to him, he’d started to guiltily look forward to every time he got to smell it. He couldn’t ever let you know that, though. Couldn’t let you know how deeply he subtly pulled your scent into his nostrils at times, and how much it sizzled within him. How it sometimes made his cock grow half hard and sensitive in his pants. You smelled so good. 

He was horrified by his own reaction, how he couldn’t control it. Bucky could control everything, held himself so tightly leashed he sometimes didn’t remember how it felt to react naturally to something. The semis you gave him were a direct threat to that control. 

Bucky could faintly remember being quite the ladies man back in the day. No more, though. He barely knew how to talk to people these days, let alone women. Let alone gorgeous, cute, good-smelling women like you.

He had most of the scents of the compound down by now. Natasha's caramel lattes in the morning, Steve's burnt toast and black roast. Wanda's paprika dishes and Clint's cheesy pizzas. At noon every day the hallway would smell with the fresh sweat of the joint training sessions. Sam would enjoy popcorn on Thursday’s movie night and a strong, musky cologne on Friday's club nights. There would always be the smell of liquor in the air when Tony was around, and more often than not, the smell of smoke as Steve went to cool off on his bike soon after.

Only Vision had no smell at all except a very faint hue of fresh, clinical rubber. Eerie, Bucky often thought to himself. Sometimes it was the only reminder that Vision wasn't human.

There were rarely any new smells for Bucky to note. Rarely something he didn't know what was, until one particular evening. The compound was quiet. A larger group were off on a mission, and the rest had scattered away, some leaving the grounds for a few days leave. Bucky had left his room to scavenge for snacks when he turned the corner into the kitchen and bumped straight into you. 

“Oh gosh! Hi Barnes! You scared me,” you said with a surprised smile after giving a little yelp, nearly dropping the bag of chips and steaming cup of tea in your hands. 

Bucky felt his body flush, partly embarrassed that he hadn’t sensed your presence before nearly tackling you off your feet, and partly because you were standing very close. Closer than he’d ever been.. Then your scent hit him, and a new wave of warmth spread in his body. It was…heavier than usual. Richer, with an overwhelming tangy note - the warm skin and lazy mornings in soft sheets he’d mentioned earlier - and it coursed through him like a comb through wet hair, leaving him momentarily stunned by sensation. He swallowed the sudden excess of saliva in his mouth and fought to not close his eyes. You were right there, for Christ's sake. 

Don’t be a creep! 

Bucky pointed to the items in your hands and said “snacks”. 

Stupid!

You looked down to where he pointed, momentarily puzzled before smiling and raising your cup in a small toast as you seemingly understood what he meant. 

“Way ahead of ya,” you said, then you sobered and when you met his eyes your cheeks had gained a strange hint of color. “You haven’t been out tonight? I thought I was all alone here,” you said, and Bucky was almost too distracted by your scent to realize you were nervous. 

“Ah, no. Not for me,” he said, and then added “going out on town and stuff,' cause his communication skills were truly atrocious. 

“Oh. Yeah, me neither,” you said, smiling softly at him, looking up through your lashes in a way that had him squirming in his skin. Bucky let his gaze track down to notice for the first time that you were only wearing a huge, oversized t-shirt and fuzzy blue socks. He could see your bare knees. So cute. 

Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, don’t get hard…

And then, as Bucky tried to will his cock not to swell in his sweatpants, he realized what he was smelling. It was arousal - your arousal. Or rather, that which came after your arousal. The smell of you post arousal. Bucky swallowed thickly again. You’d been masturbating. Or maybe you had a visitor. No, those weren’t allowed in the compound. 

You’d been self-pleasuring then, while you thought everyone was away. Which explained the rosy cheeks and nervous tone of voice - and the slip of control that had blood rushing to Bucky’s cock right before you. He resolutely fought the mental images away with a proverbial stick, shook himself quickly from his stupor and stepped past you, running for the fucking hills before you’d notice the tent forming in his pants and be forever creeped out by him. You didn’t deserve that, fucking hell. 

��Well, enjoy the rest of your evening,” he called over his shoulders and didn’t look back as he entered the kitchen. A long moment later you stammered out a “y-you too” before Bucky’s advanced hearing caught your feet slipping on the floor as you made your way back to your rooms. 

Later that night, hot with shame, Bucky laid in his bed, hard and aching as he remembered your smell, the way it had lingered in the hallway, and the way your cheeks looked with that adorable blush. But he didn’t touch himself - refused to be that way, knew he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes again if he did. 

§

That scent haunted him from that day forward. Each time he passed your room he would automatically look for it, each time he passed you he would scrutinize the nuances of your scent, trying to figure out if you’d been aroused recently or not. Not able to help himself, he would try and decipher if you were wet right then and there, if your scent changed during the brief time you were in a room with him. This was usually during mission briefings or the missions themselves, so it wasn’t often he ever caught your scent marinated and warm and potent like he had that day in the hallway. 

But then the day came where Steve, your usual sparring partner, was on a mission, and out of nowhere you asked Bucky if he could step in. 

“It’s just, with the serum and all, you might be the closest to Steve in terms of the level of challenge we’ve been working up to,” you said, looking down, hands behind your back as you stood before Bucky where he sat on the bench, having just finished a bench press set. 

He’d been resolutely not looking at you from the moment you unexpectedly stepped into the gym. Because he was concentrating on his routine, and because he was giving you space to concentrate on yours. But also because it was hard enough to keep his eyes reigned in when you weren’t sweaty and flushed, your compression shirt clinging to your toned torso, your tights hugging your thighs and oh god, plump, rounded ass perfectly. 

Bucky felt at home in the gym. It was a safe space for working out his surplus energy and jittering nerves, and fresh perspiration was a hundred times better than the stank of old socks and musty boxers he got elsewhere. He always felt a bit grimy, a bit uneasy in his own skin, with the way his bulky body and gait moved him through the delicate spaces of the compound. In the gym, he could just be loud and forceful in his grimy skin and everyone else was too. 

But now, with you so polite and sweet and shy before him, Bucky felt at a loss. He couldn’t damn well say no to you when you gave such a good reason for asking him. He didn’t want to be an asshole. You were supposed to be teammates. Colleagues.  

“What she means to say is that no one else is good enough for her,” Scott Lang chimed in from the bench next to Bucky when Bucky remained quiet a second too long. 

A familiar, rosy blush stole across your cheeks as you batted a hand towards Lang. 

“Maybe if you spent half as much time working your biceps as you do your mouth, I would’ve asked you,” you retorted, and Bucky didn’t bother to quell his snort of laughter. It wasn’t often he got to see your sassy side, though Steve had told him about it. 

You looked back and smiled a little at Bucky as Lang exaggerated a shocked gasp and got up from his bench. 

“You know, you shouldn’t be so nice all the time, Y/N. I would like to see you being a little mean,” he said as he grabbed his towel and headed for the gym exit, smiling all the while. 

“Try me, Bug-man.”

“I just might, ordinary human woman,” Scott threw back as he pushed through the doors. 

You looked back as Bucky, who was still recovering slightly from the smile you’d given him. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, Barnes?” you asked hopefully. 

“Yeah, sure,” he heard himself say, and almost immediately his heart kicked into gear. 

This is a stupid idea, he thought to himself as he joined you on the sparring mat. Your scent, alive with your fresh, warm sweat, wafted in a trail directly behind you where Bucky followed, trying not to take too noticeable pulls of air. You stretched for a bit and Bucky did the same so he wouldn’t end up staring. 

“So,” he started as he raised himself from a forward hamstring stretch, “what have you and Steve been working o- oof!”

His words were cut off as you launched yourself on him, landing a kick to his midriff that had the breath momentarily stealing from his lungs. Then his mind slipped into combat mode, and he lunged for you. 

It seemed like hours passed as you sparred. You’d come a long way in your training, and Bucky found himself receiving quick punches and efficient kicks unexpectedly several times. You’d already been sweaty when you started, and it didn’t take long for your mixed perspirations to clog Bucky’s nose, adding a layer of distraction to the mix. 

You wrapped your thighs around his head in a move eerily reminiscent of Natasha, and Bucky nearly blacked out as he came face to face to the source of that intoxicating scent. He might be gross, but he didn’t care. It smelled so fucking good. 

And then, as he grabbed you by the hips and flung you to the mat, catching your head from breaking against the floor and lowering himself to his knees between your legs to dampen the impact, you let out a surprised little squeal that had him flushing for entirely new reasons. 

You stopped short, panting furiously and looking up at Bucky with wide eyes, face red, hair clinging to the sweat on your forehead. You were utterly gorgeous, and Bucky was powerless. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. You were a dream like this, alive and blinding, so beautiful and so close. It gave him a sort of reverent pleasure just to be allowed to look at a woman like this. A lucky reward he was completely undeserving of. 

You stayed like that. You on your back, arms limp on the mat over your head, legs loosely draped over Bucky’s thighs as he sat on his knees between them, metal arm bracing on the mat by the side of your head, the other, softer one, cradled between the back of your head and the mat under it. 

And then the unmistakable, elusive scent of lazy mornings in bed, sex and spice hit his nose. Your arousal, mixing with your sweat to a lethal potion. Bucky couldn’t for the life of him stop the instinctual indraw of breath, feeling himself instantly getting a little dizzy of it. The appreciative sigh escaped him a moment later. 

Your mouth parted slightly like you understood what he was doing, your eyes momentarily going wide before your eyelids drooped, pupils expanding. 

Then, in a move Bucky would never anticipate, your head lifted off his hand, and you slotted your mouth to his, warm lips meeting his in a hard kiss. 

Wait, what?

Even as Bucky’s thoughts scrambled to keep up with what you’d done, his body responded in kind, lips returning your kiss after only a beat of stunned shock. 

Muscles rippling with lightning bolt of unleashed need, his body surged forward, pressing your head back into the mat, dragging his flesh hand up to cradle your jaw as he deepened the kiss. 

You’d kissed him. He’d kissed you back. You were kissing. No, making out now, he thought fervently as your mouth opened to not so shyly pry your tongue against his, swiping slick and hot in a way that had his breath catching in his lungs.

Lust rippled through him, making even his bulky frame shudder.

With the cutest, neediest whimper that made Bucky’s blood rush in his ears, you grabbed his wrist with both your hands and brought his hand, the one made of flesh, down to cup you between your legs.

The surprised grunt that escaped him was entirely unplanned, and the one that followed was downright unhinged, escaping his control. Before his mind had completely caught up to what had happened, his hand had started to move back and forth on it’s own, rubbing you over and over, and fuck – you were wet, so wet it had soaked through the fabric of your leggings, making his hand damp.

Bucky’s breath burst out of him, and you suddenly wrenched away from the kiss, your head falling back with a dull thud on the mat. Your hands let go of Bucky’s hand and you covered your face with them.

“Oh God, sorry! I’m sorry, that was so thoughtless of me, what if you don’t want to, and I…and, maybe we should stop, I mean you don’t have to if –“ you rambled, shrill voice muffled by your own hands, and Bucky had to refrain from screaming in protest to this stopping. He brought the hand he’d awkwardly stilled between your legs up and pried one of your hands off your face.

You had the most adorable, crimson flush high on your cheekbones, and your face was all scrunched up from embarrassment. The sight of you being so small and vulnerable beneath him had a surge of protectiveness welling so fast in Bucky’s chest it physically pained him for a moment. He suddenly felt entirely sure he wanted to do, would do, anything to stop you from fretting, from worrying about anything ever again.

You were still mumbling faintly about not wanting him to feel pressured and how inaprorpriate it was of you to come on to him like this. Bucky would have none of that. Emboldened by his newfound emotion and almost panicked by the notion of this ending before he could touch you and kiss you just a little bit more, he lowered his face to capture your lips again, if only to shut you up. You whimpered into his mouth, eagerly reciprocating in contrast to your attempt at rationality. 

Fuck rationality. Bucky was starving, had been starving for months.

When he broke away, he leaned his forehead to yours, trying to catch his breath, to get order to his thoughts, but they were a jumbled mess of possessive, filthy wants that had his self control ripping at the seams. And your scent, God, your fucking scent was tinged with fucking ambrosia, like an aphrodisiac designed specifically to make Bucky’s vision go all loopy and his damn civility to shrivel to dust. 

“I want…I…fuck, you have no idea how much I want,” he blurted inelegantly, and then words escaped him all together, for there were no words to describe the profound ache that settled deep in his loins, the sheer carnal need to feel your skin on his, to touch you, to be the provider of every moan and keen of pleasure he could - to keep you wet and shivering and wordless from pleasure. 

His mind short circuited as he landed on the mental image of hearing you come with his cock deep inside your weeping cunt, and he pounced on you without really meaning to.

His mouth sought out the soft skin of your elegant neck, and he licked it before giving it an open-mouthed kiss, covering it in saliva. He felt your body twitch and writhe as he latched his teeth and tongue onto it, moving messily down to the collar of your compression shirt. He wanted to pry it off you, to tear it to shreds with his teeth, to lather the skin of your breasts with the attention of his tongue and lips, to nip and bite and suck on your nipples till they grew hard and red and puffy for him. But that would have to be later, for he had one goal he was working towards, that spot between your legs where he had already felt how much you already needed him. He would not let you go another minute unsatiated. 

Unceremoniously and frenzied, he kissed over your clothed torso as he crawled down your body. Your hands were in his hair, tugging and gripping as he went, the most decadent, breathy moans spilling from you panting mouth as he (rougher than he intended) manhandled your legs over his shoulders and then your hips off the floor, wrenching your leggings and underwear down so hard your whole body jolted, and fuck, he was telling himself to be more gentle, to not scare you away when you had given him this fucking gift of letting him get this far.

But he needed it; was desperate for it. Desperate to bury his face between your legs, breath in your warm, sweet scent where it was most potent, to taste you and feel your pulsate on his tongue. He needed you to come in his mouth, all over his face, so he would smell you there for days, lingering like the most illicit secret. Fuck, all his blood was rushing south so fast he felt almost faint.

You let him do what he wanted, laid down again naked from the waist down, so small and fragile and beautiful and Bucky wanted to eat you alive.

And then he was on his stomach between your legs, pussy inches away and it was glistening with how wet you were, your patch of dark curls wet too. Your whole body was shivering slightly, and your hands flitted about the mat for something to do, something to hold on to, a nervous gesture, or an excited one. Fucking hell, Bucky hoped you were half as excited for this as he was, and promised he would do anything to have you as addicted to his mouth as he already was to your scent. 

It was baffling how magnanimous the moment was to him, to have the absolute honor of being allowed this close to your sweet pussy, to have you trembling and flushed on your back, allowing him, socially stunted, unelegant and most of the time awkward as hell, between your glorious thighs, allowing him to touch you, to try and bring you the most pleasurable experience you could have. 

It had been a long time since Bucky was a religious man, but -

“Christ,” he muttered as he saw your pussy clenching under his gaze, more of your slick seeping out under his watchful gaze. 

In a moment of unexpected (and impressing) clarity, Bucky looked up to find your gaze on his face. 

“Is this okay? C-can I?” he asked, or rather rasped, for his voice was all husky, more growl than anything else. His cock was so hard in his pants, throbbing, and he had to push his hips down into the mat to alleviate some of the ache as he watched your face avidly, fearing for his life that you would do anything but consent enthusiastically. Suddenly he wasn’t sure how he would survive if you said no and he would have to tear himself away from you. 

To Bucky’s relief, a needy whimper escaped you and you bit your lips nodding before gasping. 

“Yes, please, please Barnes, I -”

Bucky didn’t let you finish your sentence. The minute he heard you say yes and oh lord - plead for him to do it - he surged forward and sucked your pussy into his mouth. He heard the air catch in your throat as he licked his tongue flat against you from weeping hole to your clit, the nub swollen and hard already. He flicked it with the tip of his tongue and your body jolted, a small sound escaping you. 

He did it again, flicking your clit teasingly, the little nub growing harder and bigger under his attention. He was ravenous, wanted to work you until your whole body felt like one big overstimulated nerve, contracting and throbbing with every touch. He wanted you soaked in pleasure, so hazy with it you could do nothing but come back to him for more. 

You let your sounds spill freely as he went, pretty, needy whimpers and unashamed moans.

God, yes, Bucky thought, hoping you always were so reactive, vowing to drag more sweet sounds out of you, his blood sizzling with how downright nourishing they were to him. 

You were writhing so hard on the mat you nearly squirmed away from his mouth, and Bucky hooked his metal arm around your thigh as he draped it over his shoulder, securing you firmly in place as he lavished your whole dripping pussy with his spit, letting it mingle with your own slick and coat his chin and lips in it, probably dripping down onto the mat. Bucky didn’t care, he couldn’t get enough. You tasted even better than you smelled, and his vision went blurry with how ecstatic he felt buried in the hot, soft flesh between your legs. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, bullying it with his tongue as he peeked up at your sweaty face. He drank in the almost reverent look on it, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, drool at one corner. 

Your hands still flitted about looking for purchase, for something to grab. He grabbed you gently by the wrist and led your hands to his hair, still working your clit with his tongue in rhythmic swipes, up and down, up and down. You instantly grabbed fistfuls of his dark locks in tight clasps and your eyes, blown and glassy, met his as he lowered his head to lap at your hole again. You whined, lifting your hips slightly to grind against his mouth and Bucky hadn’t thought this could get any better but the feel of you smearing your juices on his face, riding your clit mindlessly on his tongue, using him to chase your own pleasure - Bucky nearly came in his gym shorts and he couldn’t even be bothered by it. 

He fit his hands on your hips, just resting them there as you grinded on him, your brows drawn together in concentration. Bucky groaned into your flesh as more of your sweet slick dripped out of you onto his tongue, and you jolted against him, whimpering so adorably as your hips sped up to frantic bucking. 

Bucky started flicking his tongue to help you out, to drive the movement higher, faster, and you gasped hoarsely. 

“Yes, fuck, just like that, oh my god Bucky!,” you exclaimed, practically screaming into the empty gym. And hearing his name like that, so intimately and fervently, desperately as you praised him. Bucky downright snarled into your pussy, and that seemed to drive you that last bit off the edge. 

You threw your head back on a choked whine, whole body seizing tight, trembling like a leaf in his arms. Bucky kept his flicking licks on your clit, feeling it jump and throb as the waves of your orgasm rode your body. 

He kept licking until your voice returned to you in jolting little squeaks, and tried to keep going even as you pulled his face away from you by the roots of his hair. 

Bucky wanted to protest. Wanted to shake your hands off him and push his face into your cunt again. He wasn’t ready for it to end. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough of your addicting, heavenly taste. He kissed and licked over your thighs, smearing your slick and his spit all over them, nibbling on the soft skin and making you all messy, a preening sort of satisfaction settling warm in his chest at the sight. He wanted to see you come again, hear you come again, feel the way your muscles seized as you reached that pinnacle of pleasure. He wanted to make you come again. So he did just that. 

With renewed, almost feral fervor, Bucky shot to his knees and hunched over your lower body. Easily prying your hands off his head, he pinned them to your sides on the mat as he pushed his tongue against your hole, lapping up the gush your orgasm had created. A rational, though very small voice in the back of his mind told him he probably sounded and acted like an animal, but he didn’t care. He pushed his tongue as far inside you he could and felt your walls throb and clench around the muscle, driving his fervor higher. 

He kept your hands pinned to your sides a while longer, though it didn’t take long for your squeaks of overstimulation to turn back to sweet, needy whimpers of “fuck, yes, more, please, yes, God”.

Bucky wanted to feel more of you from the inside, and when he felt more secure in the fact that you would allow him more time between your legs, he let go of your wrist and brought his flesh hand down to your hole. His fingers trembled slightly as he swiped through your messy folds, coating them thoroughly before resting them just on your opening. 

Your hand returned to his hair, carding through and then tightening. 

“Pleeease,” you whined above him, and Bucky’s breath went short and puffy at how completely and ardently you submitted to him, gave yourself over and begged him. He wanted to hear you beg more, but he was too impatient to get inside you, if only with his fingers. 

His cock jumped at the thought of getting inside you, too, but he ignored it. He wanted you to come, right now. 

He pushed two fingers into you and groaned at the tight, wet heat that enveloped him. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and if he used to do this sort of thing back in the day, he couldn’t remember it feeling like this. 

Your back arched off the mat on a garbled gasp. Bucky took the opportunity to wrap his other arm under your back and practically drag you into his lap as he sat back on his haunches, getting his mouth back on your clit. 

He flicked it fast, alternating with messy suckling, and curled his finger inside you to hook against the roof of your stretched cunt. He had no idea where all his moves came from. He hadn’t so much as seen a naked woman since coming to the compound and didn’t remember much other than fragments of his sexual escapades before the war. It must have been muscle memory, some hard attained skills locked deep in his mind. It seemed to be working well with you, and that was all that mattered to Bucky. 

You were keening and whining under him, half in Bucky’s lap with your shoulders still on the mat. Your hands grabbed and scratched on his knees and thighs below you, and Bucky fucking loved it.

He was aware he was acting like a brute. No finesse, no manners, just a primal and instinctual need to get you off, to feel and hear and taste you fall apart from his touch and tongue. And have that heavenly scent of your arousal fresh in his mind for the rest of the day. 

You came again quickly with Bucky’s fingers added to the mix, screaming his name as your legs went rod stiff, body spasming that same, incredible way it had done the first time. Bucky felt high on your juice, licking up the fresh gush with reverent licks.

He had the absurd urge to keep going when he felt your hand tap his thigh twice. Tapping out. 

Bucky looked up your body, or rather down it where your bum was held up by his arm in his lap. You were panting, your eyes half-lidded and shining. You smiled at him, and his heart clenched weirdly in his chest. He was coming back to himself slightly, and suddenly wondered if he should prepare himself for embarrassment and horrified rejection after the unhinged way he’d just acted. But your hands, so gentle and elegant, reached for his face. 

He bent forward to insinuate his jaw into the cradle of them, and slowly lowered your lower body back to the mat as you gently pulled his face to yours, kissing him on the mouth almost chastely after what he’d just done. He could feel himself tremble a little as he hovered over you, kissing you again and then again, deepening the kiss a little to slow swipes of your tongues. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his tongue, if you liked your own taste as much as he did. 

Your head plumped back down on the mat and a trill of laughter flitted effortlessly from your mouth. 

“Oh my fucking God, Barnes,” you said, eyes closed and a broad smile on your face. Bucky could feel himself blushing a little, though he liked it better when you’d called him Bucky. 

Taking a purely selfish chance, Bucky quickly backed down your body to lay on his chest between your legs again, resting his head on one of your spread thighs. Your hand absentmindedly came to lay on his head, stroking his hair lightly. He stared at your pussy, swollen and pink and messy  with the mix of his spit and your slick. He could stare at it for hours. He took another selfish chance and slowly leaned in to swipe his tongue over your slit.

You moaned, though a bit critically. 

“If you don’t let me catch my breath, you’re gonna kill me,” you said, but you were still smiling. 

“I don’t want that,” Bucky admitted honestly, and you laughed again. 

“I’m glad.”

Bucky went back to staring at your messy pussy, taking in that perfect scent that had all his other thoughts muffling to a peaceful hum. He leaned forward, watching you to see if you would stop him, and took another slow, almost soothing swipe over your pussy. You jolted slightly, then hummed contently, eyes closing. He did it again, for he was an animal with no self-control, and this time, your thighs came up to bracket his face, stopping him half-way. 

“Barnes,” you warned, and Bucky had to admit defeat. He crawled back up to hover over your body, hoping you would drag him back in for kisses, or just touches, or just some form of physical contact. His skin was prickling all over from the pleasantness of just feeling warm skin to his. 

Luckily, you did, pulling him back down to kiss him again, and he let his body lower to lay splayed on top of you, making sure not to put too much of his bulk on you, but plastering himself to you all the same. 

You gave a startled little noise and broke from the kiss, looking down with wide eyes. 

Oh shit, Bucky was still sporting a raging hard-on, which he had unceremoniously pushed into your stomach as he laid down on top of you. About to jump away, Bucky again readied himself to reign himself back in when your hand snaked down, grabbing him over his gym shorts, keeping him put exactly where he was. 

Your hand around him, even with the fabric between, drew a raspy gasp from him. 

“Can I”? You asked, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Bucky swallowed thickly, looking down at your dainty hand barely reaching around the bulge in his gym shorts, and his cock gave a noticeable jerk as his mind flooded with images of all the things he wanted you to do to his cock. He could feel his balls tingling, drawing up, his sack tightening in warning. He was already on the edge. 

“I won’t last long,” he admitted, barely daring to meet your gaze again. 

You smiled, biting your lip slightly. 

“That doesn’t matter, as long as you want to,” you said. Bringing your other hand to draw his face down, he shivered as your hot breath tickled his ear. He was so overworked on sensation, he was surprised his arms hadn’t given out yet for how weak and sensitive he felt all over. 

“I want to make you feel good,” you whispered huskily in his ear, and Bucky bit his lip to try and stifle the embarrassing sound crawling its way up his throat at those words. He wasn’t successful, and he sounded almost like a wounded puppy before giving up and pressing his flushed face into the crook of your neck, nodding rapidly. He hadn’t even given a thought to you reciprocating anything. He’d been more than happy to just use the memory of this as masturbation fodder for a long, long time to come. 

“Yeah?” you asked in a honey sweet voice, God, you were just so fucking sweet, and Bucky melted against you. “Roll over on your back,” you told him, and like a tamed beast eager to please, Bucky immediately obeyed, rolling off you to lay on his back on the mat. You followed, moving swiftly to get on your hands and knees between his spread legs, one hand moving teasingly up his thigh to wrap around his bulge again. 

Not able to help himself, Bucky rose to a sitting position to claim your mouth as you held him by the cock. He wanted you closer, everywhere. You kissed him while lazily touching him over the fabric of his shorts, sliding the tip of your finger up his length to the tip and Bucky jolted, grunting uncontrollably into your mouth. His breathing was picking up, his nerve endings spiking and sizzling. 

While thrusting your tongue into his mouth, Bucky’s hands cradling your face like the most precious jewel, you reached inside his shorts and took his cock out, wrapping your hand around it and letting it just sit, rock hard and leaking generously, between you. 

You broke the kiss, gave Bucky the most devilish smirk he’d ever seen, and licked your lips before lowering yourself to take him into your mouth. The anticipation burned like a lightning bolt straight down his body to his cock. 

Bucky exploded before you even got your lips to his tip. Cum spurted out of him, spraying his t-shirt, some going as high as his chin, and some getting on your shocked face. Bucky groaned as the orgasm wrecked through him, riding through him in wave after wave, the most intense one he could ever remember having - and you hadn’t so much as jerked him without his clothes on. 

Mortified and still trembling slightly with aftershocks, Bucky gathered the courage to look at you, and found you staring at his cum-covered chest. Your hand was still wrapped around his twitching cock, your knuckles shining with his spunk, and despite how Bucky had no clue where to go from here, the sight had hot satisfaction spreading in his chest. It was like he was marking you with his cum the way you had marked him with your slick (though that had mostly been Bucky marking himself by literally rubbing his face in it). 

He watched with rapid attention as you brought your wet hand up to your face and licked a stripe of cum off your knuckle, sucking your own thumb into your mouth. You met his gaze, and Bucky swore under his breath as his dick throbbed with renewed interest at the sight. 

Your mouth ticked up at the corner before you leaned in and kissed Bucky softly on the mouth. He shivered with excitement as you pried his lips open with yours to swipe his own taste into his mouth. Fuck, he’d never done that before. It was filthy and possessive and dominating and Bucky had never thought he’d be so fucking turned on by it. 

You broke the kiss with a content hum that had Bucky’s blood rushing in his ears. 

“That was really fucking hot,” you murmured, going back in for another kiss. Bucky felt his nervousness dissipating, replaced by a sort of ecstatic elation. A laugh bubbled up and out of him, and he kissed you back. Pulling you closer with his hands on your face, neither of you cared about the mess on his shirt as you laid down on top of him, kissing again and again, slowly, exploringly. 

There was a calm inside Bucky, a sort of sated comfort he could scarcely remember feeling, and he knew it was all because of you, the sweet, wonderful woman in his arms. He could lay like this forever, simply kissing you, holding you close, smelling your scent and feeling your warmth against him, your grounding weight on his chest. His cock had other thoughts though, already starting to fill, lodged between the two of you. 

You raised your head and cocked a brow down at Bucky, and he could do nothing more than shrug and blush. And then, as he started thinking about dragging you up to sit on his face, a booming voice came from the door to the gym. 

“Please, for the love of all things good and holy, vacate the gym room now! You’re keeping it hostage at this point!,” Sam shouted, and Bucky glanced over your shoulder to see him standing outside, facing the other way as he held the door open to shout through. 

Oh. Right, you were still in the very public gym of the compound. 

You squealed as you scrambled off Bucky to retrieve the leggings and underwear he’d ripped off you and thrown to the side. Bucky got on his feet and in between you and the view of the door, trying to shield you from view while you frantically redressed - he could at least try to be a gentleman after having devoured you like a hungry animal and then cum all over himself and you. 

You turned to face him once you were fully dressed, and your eyes bulged as you glanced down. With frantic, fumbling hands, you reached forward and tucked his cock, hard and proud and still jutting out over his shorts, back inside. Bucky grunted at the touch, seeing the lovely crimson blush on your face, stretching to the tips of your ears and down your neck. He grunted again, appreciatively, when he noticed the splotches of his cum still drying on your chin and cheek from when he’d busted in your face. 

Bringing his thumb up, he gently wiped his mess off your skin, wiping his hand on the back of his shorts. 

“Sorry about Sam and…” Bucky trailed, gesturing awkwardly to the mat and around the room. His communication skills hadn’t improved by the earth-shattering orgasm, then…

“It’s fine. It was I who jumped your bones, after all,” you said sheepishly, but you were smiling. God, so sweet. 

Bucky was about to lean in to kiss you once again when Sam’s voice cut in. 

“Don’t you dare start up again, I don’t have all day! And bring that mat with you. Matter of fact, burn it!” he shouted. 

Giggling like teenagers, you scrambled to get your belongings and exit the room. Bucky gave Sam an apologetic look as he passed him, and though Sam was clearly pissed off, Bucky saw the way his mouth was ticking up at the edges, approval shining in his eyes. 

You grabbed Bucky’s hand once you’d left the gym, and Bucky happily let himself be dragged along down the hall. He was already working on his plan to lure you into his room, and subsequently rub your scent on everything he owned. For though the intensity of smells were mostly a nuisance for Bucky, having a strong sense of smell wasn’t so bad when it came to you.

[stay-midnight]

Crimes in the Sheets

Synopsis: After dating for around 5 months, Seungmin thinks his sexual fantasies about you are going a bit too rampant for him to control, but somehow your phone seems more important than him.

Kim Seungmin x Male Reader

• Requested by Anon √

• Word #: 2.9K

• Warnings/Kinks: Dom/Top Kim Seungmin, Sub/Bot Male Reader, Porn Without Plot, Degradation, Praises, Corruption(?) not really, Fisting, Fingering, Breeding, Sexual Fantasies, Petnames, Mutual Masturbation, Teasing, Edging, Overstimulation, Hazy Sex, First Time w/ Seungmin (Not in a virgin-type way), Drooling, Choking, Marking, Hickeys, Unsafe Sex (Wear something to protect the erect), Aftercare, Love Showering, Kissing, Make-out, Tongue in Mouth, Seungmin is jealous of a phone. • A/N: My first fic after 10 months! (Uh- Just I hope the writing is okay cuz I have probably gotten a bit too rusty) Also corruption is not that present(?) I'm sorry anonnie who requested it! It just that I couldn't wrap my head around on how to write it... ;-; But I hope this is enough to satiate all the Seungmin stans that were waiting for a fic! (God knows you all deserve more fics...!)

Tippy-taps were the only sounds really audible in the mute atmosphere, Seungmin eyed you while pretending to scroll on his phone while you were too busy to notice as you were fiddling with your own device.

Seungmin sighs once, his voice echoing around the room before his eyes dragged over to you to see your reaction. Seungmin wanted to pout when he saw that you didn't even turn your head.

You were still focused on your phone, getting absorbed into whatever social media you were scrolling through. Seungmin was getting a bit annoyed, you two were suppose to hang out and be lovey-dovey like all couples would but here you are showing him how hyper-fixated you can be.

Seungmin sighs a second time, this time he wasn't only side-eyeing you he was full-on giving you his blank-stare. His eyes twitched slightly when he saw you smile at your handheld screen instead.

Your boyfriend's nerves irked slightly and decided to scoot closer to you.

He peeked at what you were looking at and saw that you were scrolling through Instagram and laughing slightly on some funny pictures.

Ah. So that's what is more important than me, he thought.

He wanted to divert your attention, so he eyed you for an idea.

Then it clicked, his face slowly morphed into a cute little grin.

Seungmin placed his hand on your thigh with a glint in his eyes but you just hummed when he did that, placing your head on his shoulder as you scroll through your feed.

His hands were getting antsy, so was something down there as he remembered the dreams he had about you all the time that inevitably causes him to wake up in morning sweat as well as soaked underwear.

He licked his lips as he turned his head to look down at you, still occupied. He raised his shoulder a bit as a signal to remove your head from his joint, to which you complied easily.

With excitement coursing through his veins, Seungmin started to lean into your neck, his lips touching your skin to which you responded with a small giggle at the ticklish sensation.

“Woah, there — lover boy.” You mused, your favorite nickname for him rolling off your tongue smoothly.

“What's gotten into you?”

No response as Seungmin rested his face on your neck while his hand on your thigh slowly trailed into your middle.

Seungmin kissed your soft skin with warmth despite the feeling of lust building inside him. You didn't expect this sudden shower of love from him, but you graciously accepted it as you laid your phone down on the sheets.

His lips trailed from your neck to your jaw as he kissed it lightly, you closed your eyes and savored the feeling of his supple lips.

“The things I want to do to you, jagi...” He whispers hotly against your ear, then in a sudden flash — your positions changed from sitting side by side to him pinning you down the bed with his hands beside your head.

This shocked you of course, Seungmin does not look like someone who would be this domineering. With widened eyes you respond to his early statement with a light breath. “Seung..?”

“This phone seems more important to me huh?” He gawped, tossing the aforementioned device into the nightstand.

Then it hit you — after hearing his words. Deep inside, you wanted to laugh at the fact that this puppy is jealous of your phone. Seungmin noticed as he watched your expression closely, you were on the verge of laughter. He didn't like it one bit as he glared at you eye-to-eye, all thoughts of laughing faded like the wind.

The position was not family-friendly at all as Seungmin leaned down to connect both of your lips, you were familiar with kissing him as you do it all the time anyway but something about this certain kiss was different it had... more flare in a way. Without a word exchanged, Seungmin's tongue dived first into your mouth causing a muffled sound out of you.

By no means were you a virgin but in the 5 months with Seungmin, you had never had actual sex...

Seungmin's hands creeped up your shirt, while your own gripped the side of his body, you tried hard to reciprocate in the mouthful kiss but you weren't experienced at it while Seungmin seemed relaxed and confident as he shoved the muscle down your wet cavern.

He pulled away as a long trail of saliva was made, you were breathless and dizzy already but Seungmin wasn't done it seems.

His hands inside your shirt pinched a nub, causing it to be hard and erect, your muscle tensed slightly at the sensation.

“God.. Y/N, you look so pretty like this.” he curses as his mouth dives into your neck once again, to adorn it with purple blooms and to reap more sounds out of your innocent mouth.

“Seung, fuck... yeah, that feels so so g-good.”

His hand stopped massaging your left nub and switched to your right, stimulating it to the point that you felt yourself getting harder by the minute. You tilted your head back as Seungmin kissed down your neck, down to your collarbone.

Now, impatience was waning the atmosphere — Seungmin started rutting his hips into your thighs, the glide of his hard-on was hard to miss. Seungmin couldn't help but pull back to remove his shirt — his full lean torso was a sight for a split second before he started to remove your own shirt — raising your arms and tilting your head back.

At first, you were reluctant to show skin but Seungmin immediately removed that, “Fucking beautiful for me, jagi” he mumbles in a soft tone.

“I–I hate you.” you stutter out, trying to hide that underlying smile with your palm — your heart was drumming so fast, it was louder than sound of the AC in the corner

Seungmin tore his eyes away from your chest before landing on your covered face — he guided your blocking hand away, noticing every single detail and appreciating every inch of you.

His touch burned red wherever his fingertips landed, like hot wax melting over you — that tingling sensation rose as well as the butterfly flying in your stomach as cliché it may sound like.

You decided to get a little bit brave as your hands gripped Seungmin's shorts before dragging it over to the tent in his short as a subtle moan flew through Seungmin's lips.

“You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Y/N — I wanna ruin you like this.” His voice mesmerizes you as you couldn't help but squeeze his erection a few times.

“Yeah?” you ask in awe as you relax underneath him.

He nods.

Seungmin started to grind into your hand while he bit your nipples, ravaging it like a last meal while your own hard-on was getting uncomfortable against your last pieces of clothing.

Your boyfriend wanted to go little-by-little and enjoy the moment before the high, a little maniacal grin clouds over his expression at the different possible thoughts flowing through his brain which was unbeknownst to you.

He stills for a moment, leaving you to catch your breath as he grabs something under the cushion of his bed.

You didn't even manage to get a glimpse of it before he pounces back to you, item in hand.

“Jagi, if you ever feel it's too much.. Just say the word, "Chocolate" alright?” He proffered, staring you down before kissing your lips.

“Okay.. Okay,” you breathed out, relaxing your nerves. Seungmin drags your pants down, your underwear following soon after — your legs closed instinctively but Seungmin pried it open, his attention on your expression for any discomfort.

You faltered for a bit but allowed him to do so.

Seungmin popped open the cap of the item he was holding as he towered over your body, then you felt something soft against your lips once again as you returned his kiss with want as well.

He positions your body so that your ass was more accessible to him, his fingers that were moist with something teased your puckered hole.

“Please, Seungmin — just quick..!” You assert when Seungmin pulled away from your swollen lips.

“You aren't in control here–not after ignoring me, my little slut.” Your eyes widened at the nickname, but at the same time — your dick twitched and Seungmin couldn't help but smile as he noticed that.

“So you like that huh?” He mocks.

“N-No..” you countered, only for him to shove two fingers immediately in your hole, the burning feeling making you bite back a moan.

He leans down towards your ear, his voice deepening, “I hear that now, but later — you'll be nothing but like a cumsock.” A

A shudder passed your whole body at the way he worded it, the head of your cock burned with each passing second without stimulation. “Seung, fuck...”, you cursed before he hit something with his digits that made your toes curl up in pleasure.

“Sir. Call me sir, slut.” he insists as a breath leaves your lips.

“Wh-Wha— N— Fuck!” you swore as he pressed his long fingers hard on a sensitive spot

A moan left you as he kept abusing a certain spot inside of you. Seungmin pulls his finger out, ripping a whine from you.

“Sir, fuck– Sir please..!” You begged, struggling helplessly as Seungmin watched your cock bounce while you thrust upwards to no avail.

“That's right, baby boy–God, you look so hot like this”

Seungmin's sweet praises rang in your ear like strings being strummed on a guitar, like light chords and tunes going in one ear then out the other. Seungmin's free hand wandered back into your chest, thumb massaging an erected bud as he took off his shorts with one hand. You couldn't tear your gaze away from his cock, pretty pink lush on the tip with veins popping on the side — size didn't matter for you but god that looked bigger than you thought.

Your boyfriend's face showed a condescending grin as he noticed your staring, his ego inflating over the edge.

A gasp shot out of your mouth as soon as Seungmin's hand wrapped both around your cocks, the friction of his cock against yours as well as Seungmin's hand was pure bliss, and you couldn't help but thrust your hips up and chase the pleasure.

Seungmin watched as your own pre-cum was enough to coat both of your cocks evenly—he let out a groan, finding your neediness hot.

You set up a faster pace — you were basically fucking his hand at this point — desperation clings to your raspy breaths as you chase that inevitable high but of course Seungmin had other ideas than to end his fantasies in such a short-lived way.

He pulls his hand away much to your disappointment.

“Wh-Why... Seu–Sir, god— H-Hand...” You babbled endlessly, your hand lingering over both your cocks wanting to release but Seungmin tsks at your disobedience. He grabs your free hands and pins it up your head—he wouldn't let you do as you please that easily.

A whine escaped your throat, still helplessly thrusting upwards and struggling against his grip — gaining pleasure from the friction of Seungmin's cock against yours, his dick resting just above your own.

“Disobedient slut, aren't you?” He says monotonously with a scowl on his face.

He hikes your legs up as you look up at him teary-eyed.

Your ass was fully exposed to him as he positioned his cock against your pulsating entrance — your breath caught in your throat as you felt the head of his dick prod your rim but not pushing in at all.

You awaited the oncoming onslaught but Seungmin was not about to let you feel that gratification that easily.

With a grin, he leans down to mouth at your neck as he keeps his cock at bay — like withholding food from a hungry man.

Your hips sink down against his hard cock with want but doesn't do anything except make Seungmin's cock glide against the crack of your ass — he grins, knowing you were at the verge of breaking which was what he wanted in the first place. To break you as a punishment.

Seungmin's hand couldn't help but wander to your neglected cock — as to add insult to injury; he jerks it off, once or twice as a tease and that was it for you.

A sob left your mouth as you relaxed into the bed, mind too hazy to notice.

A chuckle emerged from your boyfriend as he shoved his entire cock into you in one go, moaning lowly at the feeling of your walls against his sensitive dick.

“Fuck, so tight—just for me.”

“Mm, sirrr...” You said empty-headed in response, his cock reaching and hitting places that made you quiver in total euphoric pleasure, he was leaking inside you — already coating your walls while languidly rutted inside you, his speed increasing by the minute.

“Good fucking slut.” he gruffly babbles, palm squeezing your thighs intensely— for sure to leave red hand marks in the aftermath.

Seungmin was sure to hit your prostate, multiple times — milking it for what it's worth and creating that onset feeling within your abdomen.

Moans, gurgles and the creaking of the wooden bed were the only sounds bouncing off his apartment's walls, for sure — Seungmin's neighbors are gonna be angry at him, the next day.

“Close, jagi?” he asks roughly, as he pulls your hips back onto his cock — making you feel every inch of him.

You nod twice, drool escaping from your swollen lips as every glide of Seungmin's cock against your walls continues the building orgasm.

On instinct, Seungmin moves his hand up your body and wraps it around your neck — your breath catching on your throat at the restriction. Seungmin slams his cock inside you with vigor, his balls hitting the cleft of your ass cheek at the power of his thrusts. Your eyes rolls back at your airways being blocked as you

With one last hit towards your prostate — you spurt your release untouched with a scratchy moan.

You gasp against Seungmin's chokehold as white comes out of tip like an endless stream, electric shock coursing through your body at the intensity.

Seungmin's hand leaves a print on your neck as he pulls away, air finally filling your lungs desperately.

Seungmin is in awe of your fucked-out expression and couldn't help but reach for your cock that was dribbling with cum — he jerks it off in rhythm with his erratic thrust, fucking you through your orgasm as all you could do was whine as you reached out to touch Seungmin's chest, finger catching on his nipples.

Seungmin welcomes the extra stimulation on his lean body, his thrust going faster and harder until and with the release of Seungmin's held breath, his hips stilling as he soils your insides with white, thick release.

He breathes heavily as he slumps on top of you — your chest touching and sticky with your fluid. “Mmm, Seung— heavy, get off me.” You mumble, clenching around him with a groan.

Seungmin laughs bubbly, “Still not done, baby boy.” He whispers, pulling out of your slick hole with a pop, his cum gently streaming out of your rim before he positions his finger back in, one digit then comes two.

“Mmm...”

“Like that?” Seungmin says, motioning his wrist perfectly to that sensitive spot.

“A-Ah.. Yeah...” You confirm with a modest nod, enjoying the pleasure from Seungmin's long fingers.

Two fingers shortly turn to three as Seungmin shoves his digits inside your cum-slicked hole — loving the way you clench and stiffen at the feeling.

A few minutes passed as Seungmin played with your hole to yours and to his surprise — he added another finger, then the last until your hole managed to fit his whole fist in.

“Fuck, you're so loose from me, jagi.” He comments as he thrust his entire fist inside you as you let out trembling breaths at the burning stretch. Seungmin manages to get it in up until his wrist before he stills his hand inside of you, your chest heaved before he finally pulls his whole hand out — your hole unclenching as Seungmin's cum drips out.

Seungmin immediately straightens his body and peppers your face with soft kisses, you exhale shakily — gripping into Seungmin's bicep as you let him shower you with love. “You were so good, so good for me—jagi, so pretty.”

Though your entire body ache from a passionate and rough time, you smiled up at your lover, “Yeah, yeah—lover boy.” You mumble through closed lashes, feeling a bit cloudy still as Seungmin touches your parts of your body that he marked up fondly.

“Good?” he asks attentively.

“Yeah, was' fun.”

“Need anything, love?”

“Nope, just sleep...” you grumble, exhausted from the 'activity'.

“Better rest up, cuz we still have lots to continue later~ Oh- and I'm confiscating your phone.” He says with a tooth-eating grin, you rolled your eyes at that — grabbing the nearest pillow and hitting him straight in the cheek as he reaches for your phone.

“Hey— Ow!”

You laughed loudly, as you stood up and ran with a limp towards the kitchen area.

“Oh no you didn't— Get the fuck ba—”Seungmin cuts himself off by tripping on the blanket.

Your annoying laugh echoed at Seungmin's misfortune but when Seungmin gets his hands on you... Hmm, there's no telling.

[dreamer-after-dark]

I could see Wally Darling being the kind to sneak into your room/house when you're away and steal your panties/underwear. You figure that maybe the washing machine is eating them at first until a pair you were wearing yesterday disappeared from the top of the pile.

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Side note, I have had my panties stolen before! Anyway, here you go ٭(•﹏•)٭

Part Two

Word count: 1,945

Wally is shameless.

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[Y/N]

It happened again.

[Julie]

What??

[Sally]

Panty thief struck again?

[Julie]

Twice in one week???

[Y/N]

It's not a thief! I refuse to believe it!

[Sally]

How many pairs does that make now? 12?

[Julie]

Close! 15!

[Y/N]

17

[Sally]

I fail to understand why this can't be the doing of a petty thief?

[Julie]

Y/N!

[Julie]

Y/N are you there?

[Julie]

Where did they go? :/

[Sally]

Alas, my darling Juliet! Tis I alone that remains here

[Wally]

Hello

[Sally]

Hi, Wally.

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Seventeen pairs of your best fitting panties have been lost, lost forever. Never to be found with the same elasticity or fit. You stared out into the empty street where the sun parted between leaves. You were too broke to afford replacing them and so you wandered this world commando when the pants offered enough coverage and comfort. Or even if it didn't you still had no choice should you plan around an inviting evening out.

With a huff you adjusted your basket against your hip, your unfolded clothes flopping a bit. The sunshower surprised you as it pelted against the non opening glass doors of the building's laundromat. After double checking the seats and dryer you headed for the opened door just off to the side. You entered a gray stairwell. Beneath the staircases was a collection of cleaning supplies, a yellow mop bucket, and a locked cabinet.

Your slippers echoed through the stairwell as you jogged up. The door to your floor was propped open with a rock. You used your free hand to open the door fully and slide the rock inside. You pushed it to the side with your foot not wanting anyone to trip over on it like you had. Your phone smacked your face leaving a nasty bruise under your eye. It still hurts to remember.

The door shut behind you with a rusty squeak. Your slippers slid lightly against the tiled floors until you made it to your apartment door. The handle gave way and you were thrilled to find it still open. Music boomed from somewhere within one of the rooms. The smell of weed wafted around mixing with the chilled air feeding in from the windows.

You inhaled deeply, shaking loose your worries. As you walked down your hallway you passed the open bathroom where giggling and hushed whispers could be heard. Julie and Sally were doing their makeup together, facetiming you assumed. Further was the kitchen where you heard the clinking of silverware against wood. The voices from the bathroom quieted.

Wally was stirring a cup of coffee when he spotted your annoyed expression, "Hello, Y/N. Are you alright?"

"Another pair off and vanished," you roll your eyes with a glance at your basket, "It's getting annoying."

"I can see how annoying that could get. Do you think they've all been stolen?"

"No! No. I'm sure it'll sort itself out. Have you got anymore coffee, Wally?"

Wally hands you the mug he was holding, "This one's yours, honeycrisp."

You thanked him as he turned away to prepare his own. His hair cascaded like waves down his back. The vibrant blue shining below the lights. Wally was amazing at coloring his hair. You turn away and head down the hallway where two doors faced each other. You entered the left one silently praying thanks to the great nothingness beyond for leaving it unlocked for you.

You placed your laundry on your bed. You would fold the clothes, but your keys needed to be found. You looked around your slightly cluttered room. The tapestry on your window was tied up letting in the sun. The smell of wet earth rose up as the rain thundered down. By the window was a desk. It was stained with paint and ink. On top was a journal, several colors of paint, and a large bottle of water. A mug with several drying paint brushes propped up within say atop the bookshelf.

Small plushies were scattered among the shelves and on the floor. Your bed was next to the wall by the door. The blanket was a pile on the floor next to the end of the bed. Larger plushies were squished from your tossing and turning. Pillows were crammed between the bed frame and wall. Eyes landing on your newly added laundry basket made you realize cleaning your entire room would help you find your missing keys.

👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜👁💜[Wally]

Hi, Sally.

Hi, Julie.

[Sally]

Wally, you wouldn't happen to know about the Boudoir Bandit?

[Wally]

No.

[Julie]

Maybe it's one of the other tenants!

[Sally]

Nefarious tenant!

[Y/N]

It has to be the machine

Can't be anything else

[Sally]

Perish the thought! The Panty Snatcher must be caught and brought to justice!

[Julie]

Perish the thought!

[Wally]

Perish the thought!

[Y/N]

Who could it be?

[Sally]

I see you've come around.

[Julie]

It could be anyone!

Any of us!!

How scary!!!

[Wally]

It could be anyone?

[Sally]

List of suspects:

Sally

Julie

Y/N

Poppy

Wally

Howdy

Barnaby

Home

[Y/N]

Me??

Why me??

[Julie]

It's a crazy world, Y/N!

We cannot rule out anyone!

Not even you

[Sally]

Julie is exactly right, darling Y/N! We simply cannot rule you out!

[Wally]

I would hate to see you go without, neighbor.

[Y/N]

Ok :/

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You smirked at the messages filling up your screen. Julie's energetic texts became shorter and you could imagine her hot pink nails tapping against the screen of her phone. Sally's text became increasingly verbose in response. Wally was lurking as he always did, chiming in here and there.

The phone slipped into your pocket as music filled the already tidied room. Your keys had been found while sweeping underneath your desk. Along with a few scrunchies and a button, your heavily outfitted keys were dragged out. With such a clunky set up you wondered how you ever lose it to begin with. Work keys, house keys, anime characters, pepper spray, and a stuffed animal. All of it designed to be eye-catching and hard to lose.

You flopped onto your bed opting for rest. Your ultimate goal had been completed and you were horribly drained. Your mind drifted back to the mounting loss of your panty collection. Solid color boxers, high waisted panties, boy shorts, thongs, sick day panties. All of it is gone! Sally was right to call it nefarious, but believing that you were being specifically targeted was a level of fear you wanted to avoid. You turned off your notifications for the next hour and returned to cleaning up.

Soon your room was clean, your clothes put away, and the bathroom was finally open. The glow of the full moon was bright and brilliant tonight. Leaving your desk you grabbed a change of clothes, sans panties, and a towel. You stripped down leaving all of your clothes inside the now empty basket. Stepping out you noticed the room across from you was quiet. There was a note taped to the door reading:

Out for the next three days! Rent is on the table!

Sally and Julie were heading out to New York for a concert. All the more to enjoy a long, luxurious shower. Wally was in the room down the opposite hall. His room was the only one on that side. He had the biggest room in the apartment for all of his art equipment. Aside from his bed you couldn't tell it was his bedroom. The last you had been inside it was filled with disturbing personal works. Each one felt delicate and haunting. Completely unlike his pleasant and sweet demeanor.

The music was still going though not as loud. It was mellow and dragging. You could hear the bubbling of his bong. The sound made your heart race. You quickly stepped into the bathroom. The thick glass ceiling above always excites you. It was such a crummy apartment, but it had its ups with this being one of them.

Julie's stickers covered the thick sides of her movable mirror. Her makeup bag was left open covered in eye shadow dust and glitter. A pack of eyelashes were left open on the top of the bag.

A little smudged message was left on the mirror written in red lipstick, reading:

You're beautiful, starshine!

Julie was a sweetheart. The rain had stopped, leaving a silence in the tall bathroom. With a turn of the faucet cold water rushed out from the shower head. The patter of water against ceramic filled the room. You stepped under the stream shivering as the droplets thudded against your skin.

Stepping out from the shower you dried yourself off and slipped into your change of clothes. You felt rejuvenated! As you stepped out of the bathroom, a voice called for you.

"Hi, Y/N. Would you like a snack?" Wally was standing in the kitchen with reddened eyes.

"What are you having?" You couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"A cut up apple. I couldn't think of anything better," he giggled, "I have a few extra?"

You accept the offered apples, "Thanks. I'm sure I forgot to eat with all the other things I also forgot."

"I'm sorry that's happening, it must be tough. Julie did say you were left without much to wear."

You groaned imagining Julie explaining things in detail as she usually would, "I'd rather not make it into a thing. It's just so weird to even consider what they're saying."

"I have a pack of unopened boxers. They may not fit perfectly, but they should help?" He smiled completely at ease.

"That's.. Ok. I couldn't accept that." As weird as it was to have your underwear stolen, Wally offering you some was even weirder.

"Oh, Ok. I'll hold it until you're ready." Wally walked off into his room leaving you in the kitchen.

You heaved a sigh as you leaned against the counter. The apple slices crunched as you bit into it. Each one refreshing and cold. You rinsed the plate in the sink and switched off the lights. You returned to your room, but stopped just short of the door.

It was cracked open. You were sure the door shut behind you when you stepped out. With a gentle push you opened the door further. When seeing nothing out of place you stepped in and shut the door behind you listening for that click of metal against wood. When you heard it you let go of the doorknob and hung up your towel to dry.

You looked around your room again looking over every little detail. The still tidy room was just as you left it. Plushies put away, paints organized, bed made, and the floor clean. Your eyes glanced over the basket on the floor and your heart skipped. Your head swiveled back as your eyes scanned it once more. Leaning down you picked at the shirt and pants shaking them out. A pair of socks fell from the pant leg, but nothing else. With dread it dawned on you. The panties you had worn not even an hour ago were missing.

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[Y/N]

Wally

[Wally]

Yes?

[Y/N]

Where are they?

[Wally]

Where is what?

[Y/N]

My panties

[Wally]

Stolen, I presume?

[Y/N]

By you

Where are they?

[Wally]

You're welcome to check my room, Y/N

Do you want to come in?

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You heard the music dip low in the furthest room. You heard the door click as the knob turned. Your heart pounded in your chest as you heard him chuckle from deep within his room.

[yourstingrey]

“What are you wearing…?”

Description: you forget about laundry day and are forced with the tough decision of going out in your most embarrassing pajamas set in front of a certain Hermes camp counselor

A/N: I haven't written a fic since uh 2019…? So my writing is a bit rusty but I wanted to try to get back into it so hopefully you all don't think this is too bad😭😭😭 The pajamas are inspired from this OW2 character's outfit but obvi changed for the fic! Anywho if you do like this hopefully it'll inspire me to write even more little fics but thank you for reading if you choose to do so and I hope you're having a wonderful day/evening/night!!

wc:1009

Pairings: Athena!reader x Luke Castellan

Warnings!: fluff pretty much and the reader getting teased

You don't even know how you could have forgotten it was an honest mistake anyone could make but certainly not as embarrassing for everyone else. You had woken up just like any other day yawning not truly ready to get up for the day but at camp half blood unless you're a child of Hypnos sleeping in isn't the smartest.

As you stretch out and then slip your feet into your slippers you finally make that last stumble out of bed. Walking up to my dresser and open up the drawer noticing how barren it is so much so a cartoon mouth might as well fly out. I turned around to march up to my laundry hamper, deciding it better to re-wear something this once than to simply have nothing else until I noticed it was missing from its key spot. 

I looked up to see if any of my siblings were in the room and saw my sister, Bea “Hey uh Bea have you seen my laundry hamper? I can't remember where I put it…” I say to her with sleepy confusion laced into my voice “Oh yeah well it's laundry day and you were sleeping for a while so Annabeth decided to take yours and do it for you!” Bea explained, “So all my clothes are in the wash.” “Oh yeah sorry is that a bad thing I mean I can't say I won't judge you if you wanna be those people who don't bathe or anything..” Bea says with an astute tone to her voice and a clear grimace on her face “Um no no it's fine…” I replied under my breath.

I walked back to my drawer deliberating between just going out in my PJs or trying to squeeze into some old t-shirt from my first years at camp. I think we all know what I picked but I did decide if I'm going to wear my PJs out I can still wear my normal shoes, lacing up my sneakers I head out marching my way to the mess hall. 

I walk quietly the cold crisp camp air biting at my cheeks while I notice the cold I fail to notice the sound of a certain Hermes boy sneaking up on me before he lightly tugged on one of my braids “Woah woah where are you going girl” Luke said as he stepped in front of me.

 “Luke! I hate when you do that my hair takes a while y'know.” Luke irked me to no end yet I couldn't help but enjoy all our tiny arguments. “Hold on. What are you wearing…?”

 I look down at my outfit: a basic white sleep tank but then lavender pajama pants with owls and moons scattered about with a matching cardigan on top. “What are you jealous, Castellan?” “Very you think we can get matching sets, hm?” Luke replied with a smirk evident on his face.

“ Ugh Why have you come to pester me Luke” I huff out at him as I shift under his gaze “Just wanted to know if you’re still gonna come to training later” I almost freeze up a little as though it might be small Luke has usually never asked to see if I'm coming or not it's not like its hard for him to get another sparring partner. 

“Hmm I don't know.. These are my best fighting clothes. I think they actually might let me beat you this time butttt I already promised Annabeth to sneak out into the strawberry fields with her later..” As I say this I start to continue my walk to the mess hall not letting Luke interrupt my stride.

“Hey wait wait tell her you’ll go on a different day!” Luke jogs back over and starts walking with me “I don't know why you’re being so persistent this time you’ve never acted like this before!” I sass back to him “Oh what I just want to spare with my favorite Athena girl” “Well it's not gonna happen you can spare with me tomorrow okay” my voice holding a teasing tone.

I look at him and scrunch my nose at him as if he were the foul smell you would get if you ventured to the stables. But with that pause in my step, Luke took it to his advantage quickly snagging the owl sleeping mask off of my head and holding it up.

“Well, you'll just have to come by if you want this back then hmm little owl.” With him snatching my eye mask and this newly formed nickname my face glowed a light pink you would think I was a daughter of Aphrodite for a second “Wait what-” Luke already cut me off with a quick peck to my cheek stunning me again and starts to strut off before calling over his shoulder “Okay see you later then my little owl!”

I turn to watch him walk for a mere second before knocking some sense into myself and continuing my walk. I know I shouldn't go. I'm a daughter of Athena, I should be smarter than this but maybe Annabeth could wait a day. It's just fruit…  I think I just really need “my sleeping mask” back…

[ddejavvu]

Hey could I request something where hotch hasn’t had much experience with anyone other than hayley and it’s his first time with anyone in a while? Maybe he is a little rusty or not up to the top level he’s usually portrayed as(with simple stuff like kissing or just sex). Reader could show him how/guide him in a way? :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Aaron discovers, with a heavy heart and a pit of shame in his stomach, that he doesn't know how to have sex anymore.

Well, he knows how to have sex. Penis in vagina, that's not hard to remember. He took sex ed in middle school. But the nuances have escaped him come age and inexperience, and he doesn't know where to put his hands when you straddle his lap and lean down to kiss him.

Yours are cupping his cheeks, lifting his face into your own like you're trying to consume him. And he'd let you, he's already feeling a stirring of arousal beneath his stomach from the way your thighs squeeze around his own.

He tries bracing one hand on your back, but it's stiff and awkward. He tries to overcorrect in the kiss, leaning into it and licking tersely, neatly over your bottom lip. You hum, brushing your nose against his own and pulling back.

"Aaron," You croon, breath short from the kiss you'd just broken, "Are you alright? You seem tense."

"I'm alright," He promises, his hands flocking to your thighs when they're in his view again. It feels so natural for him to smooth his palms over your skin, why hadn't he done that before?

"Okay," You nod, covering his hands with your own and squeezing them lightly, "Are you sure? You don't have to lie, Aaron. I'm not a profiler, but I know you well enough to know something's wrong."

A small smile quirks up on his lips at your profiling skills, "I'm alright. I'm just not used to this. Sex, I mean- I haven't done this for a while. And I think I might be a bit rusty. So I'm relearning things."

"That's alright," You promise him, and by the smile that reaches your eyes, he knows it is.

"Just feel it," You encourage him, "Feel where it's best to put your hands. I like them here."

"Yeah?" He shifts you slightly on his lap, squeezing the flesh of your upper thighs gently, "That's okay?"

"It's great," You lean down, brushing your nose against his, "Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah, I think I'm feeling that," He grins, the expression lingering on his lips when you press yours to his. He relaxes into it this time, and when he smooths his tongue over your own, it's sloppy, languid, sensual.

His hands travel in a smooth path to the underside of your thighs, close to your ass. You lift yourself slightly on your knees so that he can squeeze the flesh there, his short fingernails digging pinpricks of pain into your skin that send a shiver up your spine.

"That good?"

"Mhm," You nod, barely letting him get the question out before you're kissing him again. It's slick and messy, spit already soaking your lips, but that only makes it better, sends a similar gush of wetness to your core.

"Aaron," You moan, rolling your hips down over his own. He groans in response, feeling himself stiffen in his jeans.

"Keep doing that. Please," He pants, more than happy to kiss at your spit-slicked lips while your teeth come down to bite at your bottom lip as you grind on him. He likes this, he likes knowing that his hands are making you want his cock, he likes knowing that he's doing something right. And it's not exactly painful for him, either. There's a reason he doesn't want you to stop.

"Aaron, I need- nngh, I want more. My shirt, take off my shirt."

"Yeah," He nods, lamenting the loss of your lips, but eager to see your chest. He helps you slide the fabric over your head, hands fumbling awkwardly with the clasp of your bra. He feels like a teenager; he hates it.

"It's okay," You hum, sensing his frustration when his brows dip in that intense frown of his, "The thing is fucked up. Lemme help."

You set your hands over his, guiding them into maneuvering the prong out of its sideways clasp. He feels a little bit better knowing that the problem lies in the wiring of the bra, not in the nimbleness of his fingers.

"There," You sigh as you finally shed the garment, breasts hanging lower now than they had been before, and nipples stiff. When the cool air hits them you squirm, grabbing at Aaron's hands and dragging them up your stomach.

"Here, Aaron, I need you to- ah! Touch me here," You whimper, feeling his hands tighten carefully around your breasts. His fingers toy with your nipples, and if he hadn't told you earlier, you wouldn't know he was struggling to relearn sexual prowess.

"Am I doing it right?" He asks, and now you know he's just teasing you. You arch into his touch, still grinding against his growing bulge.

"Yes, Aaron," You breathe, desperate for the feel of his fingers against your skin, "You're doing- mmf! Great- you're doing great. Kiss me, please?"

"Lay down," He shakes his head gently pushing you off of his lap, "Sweetheart, lay down. I want to be inside you now."

With a clearer head now that he's not taunting you, toying with your aching tits and lifting his hips to drive his bulge further into your cunt, you grin at him. You lay down expectantly, and brace your hands on his shoulders when he hovers above you.

"Are you sure you've got this, old man?" You tease, palms sliding down his chest and toying with the hair there.

He lunges to kiss you, teeth making an appearance to nip at your lip, "Shut up." He laughs, balancing himself with one hand while the other tears at his belt, "I might be rusty, but I can still fuck you into the mattress, you brat."

[staaryminnie]

Going on Dates ~ Batboys

Fluff!!

Note: fem reader

Dick Grayson

Physical Activities! Walking the dog at the park, cycling, bowling, or swimming, but in this time, you guys decided on mini golf. "Gosh, you're so bad at this." Dick laughed as you missed again. "Hey! I'm just a little rusty. It's been a while, okay!" You couldn't remember how long it's been since you've played. "Fine, then let me help you." Before you knew it, he placed his arms around you, his hands placed over yours, holding the golf club. You could feel his body press up against your back. You were zoning out again. All you could think of was him, you didn't even pay attention to what he was teaching you. "You're such a dummy. Tell me what's on your mind because I know it definitely isn't mini golf" you turned around to face him, Dicks arms still wrapped around you. He was so close, you could smell his cologne. "You. I was thinking of you" your cheeks flushing after your bold confession. "My girl loves having me this close doesn't she?" Dick smirked at you, he knew what he was doing. His hand caressed your cheek softly. "Your so pretty when you look at me like that"

Jason Todd

Homebody date! He likes to stay at home cuddling and snuggling up together. When you guys get the munchies, he's more than happy to cook with you. "Fuck your so cute~" jason hugged you from behind, as you flipped the pancakes. "No YOUR the cutest" you argued back. "Not cute. I'm mean" he joked back. Jason's hands go from your tummy down to you hips and stopping at your thighs; his lips peppering your neck with kisses making you giggle. "Shhh stay still baby" he whispered into your ear, you could feel his grip on your thighs. The pancakes were now the least of your concern, all you could think was him and all you wanted was him. "Jay~" his name slipped out. "I know you want me princess, but you gotta finish the pancakes first" he kissed your cheek before releasing you from his grip. "I'll wait for you in bed, kay?"

Tim Drake

Library dates! The two of you cuddled together in the back of the library floor, sharing a book and enjoying each other's presence. You're sitting in between his legs, your back is pressed against his chest, and he's resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms out infront of you holding the book. You really should be focusing on the book, but you're too busy staring at his arm veins. Without thinking your fingers start tracing them, earning a smile from him. Tim drops the book and wraps his arms around you. "What is it, love? You got my attention. " he pressed a few kisses on your cheek before letting you answer. "Your veins are kinda distracting." You felt a bit embarrassed saying it out loud. "Yea? Well, you're pretty distracting yourself. Kinda hard to read a book when a pretty girl like you is pressed up against me, " he whispered into your ear. "Tim, I'm sorr-" "Don't apologize, babe, I love having having you like this & I know you do too"

[hibiscuswrites]

Hello! I read your headcanon about Captain Syverson (my favorite captain) being nervous on his first date - that was so adorable!

Would you mind doing another one of how he possibly struggles to muster the courage to ask the girl who makes him that nervous out on a first date?

I'm so happy you liked it 🥰 Thank you for reading

He's shakin' in his boots

He's rusty

Hasn't been out on a date in a while

Much less asked a girl out on one

He's been out in the field so long

Seeing such terrible things day in and day out

Even when he's home on R&R, it's like he's always waiting on the other foot to drop

And if he's not on edge, he's flat-out bored

He's always used to being in control for the most part

Control of situations

Control of his emotions

But when he meets you, that changes

You're so sweet and wonderful

You make him remember a time before his life was all violence and war

When he was younger and more free

It starts as a bit of a crush that he thinks he's got a handle on

But soon he wants to spend every waking second with you

And suddenly he's ok with having a few weeks before he gets sent back out on a deployment

Because he wants to spend them with you, as much as you'll have him

He enjoys being a friend to you, and he sure hopes he's not misreading the room

But he wants more, and he feels confident that you do too

The way your smile takes up half your face when you see him

How he swears your eyes twinkle when he calls you Darlin'

How his skin tingles when you rest your hand on his forearm to get his attention

He's got it for you bad and it's almost laughable how much he has to psych himself up to ask you out

If only the boys could see him

Practicing it out loud to hear what sounds better

Trying to determine if he should be more playful or direct and honest

He's had an easier time reaching for a live grenade and hurling it back at the enemy than he does getting those words out

"You think maybe you'd wanna...get dinner with me one of these days? Go out and get a nice steak, maybe some wine? I'd love to take you out, if you'd have me."

And his heart is in his throat while he waits for your response

But the butterflies cover up the palpitations when you nod, head tilted to the side cuter than ever as you gaze at him

"I think I will."

Captain Sy taglist 

@sesamepancakes

General taglist

@titty-teetee   @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

[spiderlyla]

STARBOY

— (BOXER! WRIOTHESLY × POP STAR!GN! READER)

★ synopsis: you've captured his attention, that was for sure.

☆ tags: smitten wriothesley, indiciations of a one-night stand, modern au(?), a little bit of cursing.

★ lumi's note: apologies for any mistakes or if it feels wonky. Just got back to writing after the hiatus so I'm probably a bit rusty. Constructive feedback is allowed.

He couldn't remember what led to this.

Or, he does, very vividly, actually.

He remembers the flashing lights of cameras blinding his eyes, the throbbing in his head and the adrenaline still flowing through his veins. He remembers the faint sounds of cheering, the extremely excited announcer praising him over and over again and congratulating him for the win. He remembers his manager patting his back, her face expressionless, but her violet eyes betraying her true feelings of pride.

He remembers being escorted out of the boxing ring, being followed by eager interviewers who couldn't wait to ask him about his victory. He remembers his eyes skimming through the crowds of his fans, all chanting his name. He remembers his eyes glancing at the VIP seats, just to see if it's going to be that little dramatic actress that comes every now and then to cheer him on.

And of course, he remembers meeting those eyes for the first time.

The most gorgeous pair he'd ever seen, if he was being completely honest. You were staring right back at him, an equally gorgeous smile appearing on your face as soon as you realised he was looking right at you.

He remembers getting flustered, realising his nose was still bleeding, that his face was still a little bruised, and that he was a sweating mess while you were the absolute definition of glamour.

And yet, he paused and flashed you that signature, cocky grin of his. His entire team was telling him to move before the interviewers swarmed the hall leading to his changing room, but he was unmoving, and so were those journalists once they noticed why he stopped.

He stepped towards you and stopped just before the metal barrier between the two of you. His icy blue eyes never leave your own. He couldn't lie, you've enchanted him.

"Wriothesly."

You giggle, and fuck, is it the sweetest sound he's ever heard. "Nice to finally meet you, Wriothesly. I'm—"

"I know who you are, I'd be living under a rock if I didn't." His voice was hoarse, and he could feel his heartbeat race when you giggled again. How was this conversation making the adrenaline rush through his body more than the actual fight he just won?

You spread your arm to shake his hand. He stares at it for a moment before taking your much softer palm into his own bruised, scarred hand and pressing a kiss to it.

There was a roar from the crowd, and the cameras blinded the two of you. He remembers wanting to ask you if you'd be at the afterparty his team throws, but he didn't get the chance because he found himself being pulled towards the hall before he even got the chance.

Everything else was a blur, he doesn't even remember how he got to the venue, his brain completely elsewhere as people of his team and other celebrities who came to celebrate his win congratulated him.

He remembers not feeling very sociable that night, which was not in his nature, and it even warranted a few questions out of everyone around him, asking if he was well, if the injuries he sustained were affecting his mood.

He just played it off cool, saying with all those blows he got to his head over time, maybe this job really was catching up to him.

He knew it wasn't that, but he couldn't exactly tell them that his mind was so preoccupied with the thought of you that he couldn't bear to hold a conversation with anyone else.

He spent the first hour of the night sitting by the bar, chatting idly with a few of his friends in the industry, teasing his personal nurse scolded him for always being so reckless, making small talk with his legal advisor—who really had no idea how to do small talk despite being an incredibly well spoke man.

And just as he went to order his third drink of the night, he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder, so much so that he almost didn't feel it.

He didn't fully turn at first, only glancing back for a quick second, to see those eyes that have enamoured him in the crowds staring back at him.

"Do you usually sulk after winning a match that big?" You slip into the high chair next to him, your tone teasing yet your smile sweet and genuine. He laughs, taking a sip of his drink. "Not at all, no." He could feel the glass slipping through his fingers, palms sweating as he realised how close in proximity you were, your knee brushing against his own. He never got nervous, it was his brand to be suave. To be cool.

Just an exchange of words from you was enough to make 'The Duke of the Fortress' weak.

"But we have no one to blame for my state but you." You laugh, and his cheeks bloom with colour, yet his expression remains the same. Hazy eyes and a small grin. He doesn't want you to stop laughing, he was getting drunk off of the sound—and he can assure you, it had nothing to do with this goddamn Brandy he's been sipping on for the past few minutes.

"Me? What have could I have possibly done to dampen the mood of 'The Great Duke' ?" Hearing his title in the ring coming out of your mouth flustered him just in the slightest. "What have you not done? You haven't left my mind since I saw you."

You look away shyly, but the smile on your face indicates that you didn't dislike it. He wonders if you're always like this. Surely a star like yourself has heard so many compliments, surely you've been subjected to the flirty attitude of many fans or even co-workers that you've gotten used to this type of treatment.

Or did you like him just as much as he liked you?

"Hm, are you this flirty with everyone else?" His eyes were fixated on your lips, watching them purse around the rim of the glass you held, and he took a breath, the air escapes his lung in an alarming speed with every minute he spends next ti you.

What is happening to him?

He put his hand on his chest dramatically, gasping at your accusal. This was the third time he made you giggle that night. "Pardon? How could you make such an accusation?"

"Oh, I mean no offense, I was just wondering, your grace."

Something inside of him stirs, and he feels himself getting hot even though he sat directly under the air conditioner's shaft.

Wriothesley clears his through before speaking again, "Okay, I'll forgive you just this time." You roll your eyes at his teasing, and he notices, his grin getting wider. "But to answer your question, no, of course not. No one captures my attention easily."

Your blooming cheeks, the way your teeth press down on your lower lip to prevent a wide smile from spreading all prove one thing to Wriothesly.

You definitely liked him as much as he liked you.

It gets a little blurry from here again.

He vaugly remembers you spoke, for hours, it seemed. Your voice was so clear to him that it was almost like no one was in the room but the two of you. He remembers spotting a few people staring at the two of you as you laughed together, gossiping about the budding...situation that was developing.

He remembers you shared more drinks, he remembers how when you put a hand on his arm, his entire body tensed up. He remembers you pulling him to the dance floor, and him 'begrudgingly' agreeing, claiming he does not know how to dance. He remembers Cloranid's eye roll when she heard that, silently conveying to him that the facade he was putting on was not fooling anybody.

He remembers laughing so much at your dance moves that his stomach ached, he assumed being such a famous pop star would teach you a thing or two about dancing, but that didn't seem like the case with you. He remembers the crowd getting bigger on the dance floor at the start of a certain song, so much so that you had to squeeze against him. He remembers dancing with you till he couldn't feel his legs anymore, he remembers you asking him if he wanted to get out of here. He remembers saying yes, and he remembers intertwining his fingers with yours, leading you out of the crowd.

He doesn't remember what happened after that, he couldn't remember what led to this situation he was in.

He had no idea what to do about it either.

Because it was five in the morning, he was in a room he did not recognise, and he had the most famous singer in Teyvat all cuddled up against his chest.

He looks at your sleeping form, how perfect it was to have you next to him, how right it felt.

He should've probably called his manager, or heck, your manager. They were most definitely panicking about the whereabouts of the two of you, as evident by the presistent buzzing of both of your phones.

He should've woken you up, he should've done so many things.

But all he did was take another glance at you, before shutting off his phone, and pulling you closer to his body under the sheets.

He'll worry about it when he wakes up.