#i posted this first on a03

[wraithchic]

Rogue Roses

Word Count: 3k+

Ship: Valeria Garza x reader

My past is behind me, finally. Now I own a bar called "Velvet," a name that came to me easily after renovating the interior. I chose a rich red velvet for the seats at the tables. I used to think it was way too luxorious for a bar de mala muerte, my opinion changed when a customer came in and told me it made him feel like royalty, and there and then I felt like I had made the right decision. That comment made me get an uniform, which wasn’t really one, as I was the only person working here at the time, I chose a red velvet low-cut square-neck shirt and black flared pants, which made me feel like a slutty Mrs. Claus and way too navideña all year round, but the uniform makes me confident, and most importantly, brings in tips.

I’m used to dangerous people coming into Velvet, most of the customers are, but the bar isn’t my first time dealing with them. I sometimes feel like I’m the only person with morals inside this place, well, *now* I have some morals.

There’s one server at the bar tonight, his name is Constantino. He was the only person to hand in his resume when I was hiring, but he is the best waiter/bartender/bouncer on the bar, besides me, that is. And although he is a young soul, his body is around fifty-five years old, he also is fucking scary looking, he stands at almost two meters tall and ex-militia, so he is also the security at this place. -I should look into hiring some more help.- I tried to make-up for that scariness by giving him an uniform, just like mine, just that his was a red dress-shirt. We look like a Christmas gone-wrong movie, which wasn’t what I intended but, hey! We look good, I think.

Usually Constantino tends to tables while I work as a bartender, serving everyone who sits at the bar counter. And tonight, that’s the case, but we always take turns on the different jobs.

My shift begins with the usual crowd: drunks and football enthusiasts, we have two TVs at the top of the far right and far left wall, there’s some seats at the bar with no visibility of the TVs so they are empty most of the time. Today is a slow day, just the alcoholics that come here every day, the ones I serve despite the voice in the back of my mind telling me not to; so after a couple of hours, when the door opens and a woman walks in I can’t help but turn in her direction.

She’s wearing a black turtle neck shirt, cargo pants, combat boots, and a knife strapped to her leg, I can tell she’s one of the dangerous people. I don’t want to throw flowers my way, but since owning the bar I’ve gotten really good at profiling. I look at her second too long, but I avert my gaze to the cups I’m washing. The last thing I see about her is she sitting down at one of the almost-always-empty seats.

“One rum shot, linda.” I hear her say. She has an accent, that combined with the very obvious usage of Spanish tells me that she’s probably from Las Almas. Her voice is silky but somehow rough, I wonder how she would sound when she’s eating m… I need to stop that train of thought, I can afford an affair right now. “Yes, coming right up!” I shoot a smile her way as I dry my hands on my apron. As I pour her shot, her eyes never leave me, I feel her gaze burn on my face, I wonder what she’s thinking.

When I give it to her she takes a moment to sip it, savoring the taste before setting the shot glass down. I don’t really take pride in my shots though, a couple years back I leaned to mix drinks so the other beverages I serve are way better. I leave after handing her her drink to tend to other clients, although I would stay just to admire her gorgeous face… Oh Gods, stop it Y/N, you can’t get involved with a customer you don’t even know.

The woman’s gaze follows me around, it’s kind of creepy how focused she gets while I work. I try to ignore her, just looking in her general location every now and then. After debating for some minutes I decide to come up to her, that’s what good customer service is all about after all.

“Would you like anything else? To drink of course.” I smirk and can feel myself slightly blushing. I’m not one to flirt often so my skills are quite rusty and I don’t even know if it came across as a flirtatious joke. The woman smiles softly at me, her fingers idly tapping on the bar.

“For now, mi amor, just you. But I’m always open to suggestions.” I pout, as a sarcastic joke of course. “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, corazón. But hey! This next drink is on the house, choose whatever me want.” The woman grins, her eyes sparkling with an intention I remember quite vividly from my late life, mischief. It can’t mean anything good. “Maybe you should be. But for now… two shots of rum, please. I’ll pay for the extra one.” She raises her empty shot glass in a silent toast to me while she smiles.

I carefully pour her drink and decide to ask something that’s been lingering on my mind. “What’s your name? Every good-looking woman has one.” I feel like my face is going to fall off, I can’t believe I just said that. My mouth is running faster than my head. “My name is Valeria, my love. And you are…” She leans in closer and speaks before I can answer, her voice a seductive whisper.

“Just the type of girl I’ve been looking for.” I audibly laugh “We’ll see about that.” I wink at her, badly, I was never one to control my facial muscles very well, besides, the last time I flirted was back in High School, before life carried me away from any sort of love life and work took over everything. “Name’s Y/N. Not fitting though, you can call me yours... “ I walk away to serve other drunks before she can answer. I need time away from her to gather my racing thoughts and (presumably) high blood pressure. I walk over to Constantino, who already has a shit-eating grin on his face. “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you, miss.” I hate it when he calls me that and he knows it, he is trying to get on my nerves.

“I know, Tino, I can feel it. Now get back to work, you have a family to feed.” We always joke like that, he’s like a father to me, a father away from home. After hiring him I met his husband and their two kids. “Okay boss, but, hear me, you’ve been alone for way too long and, by the look in your eyes, she’s a commitment you’re willing to pursue.” He raises his eyebrows as he walks away to talk to customers.

When I look back at Valeria she takes her drink, sets the shot glass down and leans back on the bar. I come back and serve her the third shot of the night. “Just so you know, the shots are ninety pesos each. Call me if you need anything else.” I say and leave after giving her a last glance. That’s the least sexy thing I’ve ever said. I know the shots I sell were pricey for such a simple drink but they were quality, and Velvet was the only bar in a couple of kilometers to serve 1800’s aged tequila. “Oh, be certain I will, preciosa.” She chuckled, it was like music to my ears.

As closing time approaches everyone starts to leave so I have time to talk to Valeria, I approach her “Oh Gods, today’s been exhausting. There was this guy who was trying to flirt with me, but I couldn’t get him to understand that he wasn’t my type” I laugh at my bad joke.

Valeria chuckles softly, her eyes never leaving mine. “I can imagine. Some men can be quite persistent. Was it the older one with the red shirt?” I lightly laugh at her assumption. “Oh hell no, that’s my employee, and he’s married.” “Sorry about that… So tell me, what is my type?” She makes an emphasis on the last part, I guess she’s trying to get me to say I’m attracted to her. “That’s a pretty easy guess, isn’t it? You tell me” And it is, I’m not super picky with my women. Any of her guesses would be pretty much correct.

“I’m guessing someone strong, confident, and not afraid to take charge... and a bit rough around the edges." Her voice is low and teasing. “You’re right, but what about physically? That’s a pretty easy guess too” I smile and she smirks. “Oh... someone with dark short hair and beautiful with toned muscles and sharp features. Am I close?” Her eyes flicker down to my neck, if I didn’t know any better I would think she’s a vampire. I can tell by her tone that she is still teasing me. Two can play that game.

“Oh now you’re just describing yourself but I’d say you’re pretty damn close. This is a fun game. I’ll guess your type now.” I lean on the counter, giving Val a full view of my cleavage. I know full well that I should change my work clothes to something less Christmasy but that shirt brought more clients than the drinks I served ever would. Her eyes flicker down to my chest and back up to her face, a predatory grin spreading across her face “My type?”

“Oh yeah.” I start describing myself. All I wanted to know is if she is as attracted to me. “And you like playing hard to get, don’t you, princesa?” Her voice is a low growl and her face is twisted in a cynical smile, her fingers now trailing lightly down my arm. “Ahora dime, vida mía, why are you single? I’m guessing you are." “Tell me how you know I’m single and I’ll tell you the reason.” Her knowing I’m single is kind of creepy and my curious mind needs to know. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

“Well, you haven’t looked at your phone since I’m here, so no one is texting you or if they are, they can wait. And there’s no tan line on your ring finger, so you’re not married.” She says it as if she had been waiting for someone to ask about it. But certainly, satisfaction brought him back.

“Wow, you’re quite observant. So, in this business it’s better if men find me attractive and think they have a chance with me, then they don’t mind the high prices.” I say with a big smile on my face. “For example, you didn’t question the price of my shots even before looking down at my cleavage, and you’re not a man.” I chuckle and walk back to lean on the wall.

She smirks. “Touché. You’re quite the tease. But remember, I’m always in control, even when it comes to my little games.” Valeria’s gaze never leaving my body. “I don’t think so… you haven’t looked away from me since you walked in. You would love it if I just got on my knees and praised me like a God, wouldn’t you?” That’s what I wanted to do, I just needed her to tell me to do it.

Her eyes flash with amusement and desire as she watches my face. “Oh preciosa, you have no idea what I’d really like to do with you. But for now, let’s focus on business.” My playful facial expression dropped to a serious one fearing what she might mean. I ran away, far enough for no one to know me, how could she? “What business are you talking about?” She smirks, her fingers tracing along the countertop “I’m interested in purchasing some of your... unique items.”

My last romantic affair took an unexpected turn during my final year of high school when my then-partner led me down the path of shady business dealings. What initially began as a seemingly harmless and exhilarating escapade soon transformed into a serious occupation after I decided to part ways with her. I used to be an exceptional artifact smuggler, no police, national or international, could ever catch me. I had stolen and sold more than three thousand different artifacts from all around the world, from emeralds to clothes and paintings, I had swiped it all in almost seven years. Roughly five years ago I stopped. Morals were threatening to catch up to me and so was the CIA, they had never been so close to finding me, so I changed almost everything about myself. I got a new hairstyle, threw away my cell phone, moved to Mexico, decided to never visit again the countries I swiped from and the most painful decision I ever took, never going back to my homeland. I formed a new life in Las Almas, bought a bar and a small house with the leftover money from my past deals and burned the rest. But now all of my efforts se fueron al carajo, she knew who I was. I walked over to her and whispered “I stopped selling contraband historical items, preciosa, find another place to buy it from.” I haven’t been this serious all night and in general, it’s quite rare for me to be. I can feel the scowl on my face. Vale’s finger traces along the counter, brushing against my hand, “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” Her voice is honey-sweet, her dark eyes burning.

“No voy a aceptar incluso si ofreces acostarte conmigo. Won’t happen, although, sí aceptaría lo segundo but no more contrabando from me. I left that world long ago” And I wasn’t lying, even before the CIA came close to me, I was planning on starting a new life with the money I had earned. “Eres astuta, aren’t ya? Hazlo por mí, one last time. I could pay me whatever you’d want”

“In this business, you need to be. I’ll close the bar and then I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry about paying it’s all on me” I don’t know what came over me but I remembered that I had some leftover items I brought with me as a reminder of my past life, but also because I fled Spain, the country I was at at the time I heard that the C.I.A. was soon to catch me, so fast I couldn’t really decide what things to pack and what to leave behind. This was an opportunity to truly become someone new. I go over and close all the tabs, then kick out some of the leftover drunk men, the bar had closed half an hour ago after all. Constantino was long gone by now. I come back to talk to Vale but she speaks first. Chuckling softly, Valeria leans against the counter, her body language inviting yet, not completely “That’s quite the generous offer, linda. But perhaps we can strike a deal where you help me find what I’m looking for, and I’ll… well, help you.” Now she´s got my attention “Tell me about it, Vale.” I am quite curious about this deal. Her lips curl into a seductive smile, her gaze holding an unspoken promise, which I can’t really pinpoint. “I’m looking for some rather... unique items. Something that would pique the curiosity of a collector, perhaps something with a dark or mysterious history. And in exchange, I’ll give you protection and perhaps, some security for this place.” Having security for Velvet didn’t sound half bad. “I have some leftover items in my house, if you want those I’ll give them to you free of charge.”

Her eyes twinkle with interest as she considers my offer “Oh, really? Now that’s intriguing. I’d love to take a look at these leftover items, mi amor. They might just be what I’m looking for. But tell me, vida mía, what are they?” “They are a piece of the Koh-I-Noor Diamond, an original Picasso, and the Nebra Sky Disk… Just let me finish everything here and go home to bring me the things.” Valeria’s gaze flickers between me and the door, her mind clearly racing with excitement “I’d be delighted to see them, preciosa. You’re sure you don’t mind parting with them?”

“I really don’t, I’ve been trying to forget about them for a long time and didn’t know how. Is this a deal then?” I extend my hand for her to shake it, and when she does a shiver runs down my spine, I’m not sure why but ever since I saw her sitting at my bar a couple of hours earlier, I’ve needed to touch her, but not the lingering touch like the lines she’s been tracing on my arm but a whole touch, like this. Now, if this was her effect on me with only a handshake, what would happen when she touches my… Oh Gods, I stop my mind from going in that direction before I blush even more. Valeria’s gaze is intense as she grips my hand in a firm handshake. “Yes, this is a deal.” I bring Valeria’s hand to my mouth and kiss the top like the true gentlewoman my mami raised me to be, I truly miss her. “I’ll be right back” I go out the door and hop on my motorcycle to get to my residence, it’s a small house a couple of minutes away from the bar. It’s my house, not my home. My home is in another country, with my family and the last bit of my innocence. When I got there I looked for the goods and my gun, I’m not that dumb, for all I know that woman could be part of the C.I.A., and I’m not going to take that risk. I pack the items, put them on a backpack, and head back to my bar. I open the door to find the bar empty until I feel my chest hit the wall, knocking the air out of me. She was right behind me, breathing on my neck. So now, I’m not breathing properly for two reasons and I feel the wetness slit. She growled. “You left the door unlocked, anyone could’ve come in at any time. You’re lucky I was here to protect my place.” I left it unlocked because she was here, but I’m not about to say that. She backs away and I turn around. “And you’re lucky I had the backpack in my hand, if I hadn’t you would’ve broken the things.” I huff and place the backpack on the counter. “Take a look, they’re inside” I step back and place my hand inside of my pocket, taking the safety out of my gun. I’m not sure if she heard it but better safe than sorry.

Valeria opens the backpack, her eyes never leaving the items in question “They’re beautiful.” She runs her hands over the crown and disk, her fingertips tracing the intricate details “And the painting... it’s stunning.” “Son todos tuyos, I don’t want to be associated with that part of my life anymore… How did you know where to find me?” I am partly relieved that the contraband is no longer mine but on the other hand, I need to find out if I need to take Valeria out.

“Tengo a mis informantes, and I’m not with the feds, sé que eso es lo que te preocupa. Now leave the gun alone. I’m not a threat to you.” “That still doesn’t relieve me.” I say. “If I were an undercover cop, would I have flirted with you all night before even trying to buy from you? Aparte, los policías son pendejos y jamás te habrían encontrado. I’m not a cop, I’m quite the opposite, actually.” She answered while continuing to carefully pack the items again. Meanwhile, I sit at a bar stool, it’s not quite comfortable but that’s the goal, making already drunk people want to leave and sober people want to drink to forget about it, drinking. “So you are dangerous, huh?” “Of course I am.” She smiles at me, it’s charming. “I think I saw my mouth water at that.” Now she’s laughing at me.

I blush but decide to change the subject. “I never get to sit on this side of the bar, it’s quite refreshing.” Valeria glances over at me once again, having finished packing, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “It’s always refreshing to see someone enjoying themselves, mi amor.” I chuckle “Why are you calling me “mi amor”, huh?” I’m teasing her again. “I knew you were into me but not to that level.” Valeria’s smirk grows as she leans on a table. “Oh, but I am, amor mío. You’re irresistible, you know that? And the way you blush so beautifully… it’s quite captivating.” I blush even more at her words. “I don’t blush! It’s the way I did my make-up.” How can she get me so flustered with such simple words?

Laughter bubbles up from Valeria’s chest, a light and airy sound that fills the room. “Ah, you flatter yourself. It’s adorable.” I decide to look in the other direction to avoid looking into her eyes. “I’m not doing that, pesada.” “If you’re not then I will. you’re beautiful, talented, and absolutely irresistible.” I feel a surge of braveness across me and decide to flatter her too. “Well, you’re not bad off yourself. Creative, dominant, and fucking gorgeous.” Valeria’s eyes widen in surprise, her smirk growing. “Oh, you think so?” She steps closer to me. “And I forgot to mention, that gloss you’re wearing looks like it tastes fucking delightful.” I really don’t know where I got this boldness from but I’m speaking my truth.

Valeria’s smirk turns predatory. “And what makes you say that, mi amor?” She glided her fingertips along my jaw, her lips were mere inches from mine. “Out of pure curiosity, nothing else.” I smirk. Vale chuckles softly at that as she leans in even closer. “Curiosity killed the cat but it certainly doesn’t deter me.” After saying that she finally kisses me. I’ve been wating for this all night and its even better than I thought. Valeria’s hands roams up my body, one stops at my hip and the other takes my gun out of my pocket. “Wouldn’t want you to shoot me, mi vida...”

[half-bakedboy]

For bucktommy! “For some reason, I’m attracted to you.”

read on ao3

Buck knows objectively that dating a guy is much different than dating a girl. He’s done enough research—if a lot of articles like Dating Advice for Gay, Bi, and Pansexual Men count—about how dating someone new is supposed to be exciting and nerve-wracking, and dating men isn’t going to feel any different than dating a woman.

If that’s all true, then why has he never felt so awkward in his life?

He’s sitting across from Tommy at this quaint Italian restaurant that Maddie once mentioned wanting Chimney to take her to and all he feels is unsettled. The table is too small between them and Buck worries that if either of them moves, their knees will knock over everything on top of it. Buck ordered white wine because it seemed like the classy choice but he hates wine, and Tommy ordered a red wine that makes him wince every time he swallows.

The butter is as hard as a rock and Buck refuses to eat bread without it ever since his first date with Abby. Somehow, this date almost rivals Abby performing a tableside tracheotomy because Buck choked on the dry bread he’d shoved in his mouth to tame that awkwardness.

He catches himself glancing down consideringly at the basket of bread rolls before him but looks away abruptly when Tommy breaks the silence.

“So, this is a nice place,” Tommy decides. Buck nods and grabs both sides of the small table with a white-knuckled grip. “How’d you find it?”

“Maddie! My sister,” he says, unsure how much their mutual friends have told him. “Chim’s girlfriend. Fiance actually, but uh, my sister. She suggested it to me.”

“As a place to grab drinks?” Tommy asked with a raised eyebrow.

Buck shook his head. “As a place for a date,” Buck says proudly, tipping his chin up a little, challenging anyone to say a damn word about it. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tommy’s lips at the words.

“You told your sister you had a date? Did you tell her…” The rest of the question is obvious, but Tommy pulls back like he’s unsure whether he should ask.

“That this is my first date with a dude?” Buck finishes for him. Tommy chuckles and takes a sip of his classic red wine. He presses his lips together as he swallows and nods. “Not necessarily, but Tommy isn’t exactly a gender-neutral name.”

“Hey, it’s a big step. I’m proud of you either way,” Tommy says softly.

He reaches for Buck’s hand across the table like he’s testing the waters. It should be a cute moment, but Buck panics—an obnoxious casualty of his sexuality crisis—and turns his palm up to welcome the first public sign of affection between them, knocking over both of their glasses of water, drenching the aforementioned bread rolls.

Buck immediately thinks it’d be hard to choke himself with them now.

“God, I am so sorry.” Buck panics, stands up too abruptly, and the knees he was so previously concerned about hit the edge of the table painfully, sending Tommy’s almost empty plate onto his lap along with the remnants of water on the table.

Buck feels his face heat up like a furnace and he closes his eyes in hopes that this is all some fever dream born out of his fears of his newfound sexuality. But Tommy is chuckling and a waitress is apologizing like this is somehow her fault and Buck has to accept that he really is just bad at this.

He has his hands white-knuckled on the back of his chair and he’s considering just running away when a gentle hand rests over his. When he looks up, Tommy is still grinning—Buck doesn’t understand how he just keeps smiling through it all—like he isn’t covered in all of Buck’s mistakes.

“Evan,” Tommy mutters. There’s humor in the voice and Buck feels like he might actually die if Tommy makes fun of him. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Tommy asks. Buck’s eyebrows pull together and he sees the moment Tommy reads his mind. “C’mon, Kid.”

Tommy somehow unglues Buck’s hand from the chair to maneuver them toward the door. Buck apologizes to every waitstaff he sees, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all looking at him with so much pity that Buck feels like one of the patients on his calls. It’s a feeling he really hates, especially when Tommy must notice the stares, too.

Once they’re outside, Buck blurts, “Please don’t tell Eddie how bad this is going.”

Tommy snorts out his laughter like he’s been holding it in for hours. Buck should be mortified, but Tommy’s hand is still gripped in his and it’s firm and warm and much larger than his own.

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Tommy promises. Buck attempts to pull his hand away but Tommy only squeezes tighter. “Evan, c’mere.”

This time, Tommy pulls him into a warm hug while they stand in the cool night air. Buck breathes him in, eyes closing as he relaxes into the touch. He’s rarely smaller than those he hugs, and he’s never been smaller than someone he’s hugged like this. It’s almost like Tommy is ensuring Buck knows he’s still interested. Even after the awkwardness and tragedy, Tommy knows Buck has more to offer and is willing to find out.

It means so much to Buck that when Tommy pulls away, he has to stop himself from gripping even tighter at Tommy’s broad shoulders. He doesn’t move far, though, and keeps one hand on Buck’s waist, playing with the fabric there like he’s somehow more nervous than Buck. When he starts walking, Buck follows, finding no reason not to trust wherever Tommy is taking them.

“Are you… okay with all of this?” Tommy asks. Buck blanches because he never once considered his inability to remain calm around this man to come off as some sort of internalized homophobia.

“Y-Yes! I’m—Are you okay with this? With me?” Tommy tilts his head inquisitively, cocking an eyebrow up like he doesn’t know exactly. “C’mon, don’t pretend that this wasn’t the worst date you’ve ever been on.”

“I’ve been on a lot of bad dates, Evan,” Tommy says.

Though, it’s not as reassuring as Buck thinks he meant it to be.

Tommy sighs. “I think that we both wanted this to be perfect. For some reason, I’m attracted to you,” he teases, “and I wanted to woo you on your first ‘date with a dude’,” he mocks, earning a smack from Buck. “I remember how terrifying my first public date with a man was, so I can imagine how you were feeling leading up to this.”

“It was scary for you, too?” Buck asks shyly. He’s more reassured by that fact than anything else. In his attempts to not be weird about the date, he tried to hide his fears—this is something so new and important to him but it might not be a singular experience.

“Oh my God, yes!” Tommy laughs. “It was with a dancer. A small guy who looked like he walked straight out of the magazines I used to keep under my bed when I was a teenager.”

“I forgot you grew up in the 80s,” Buck teases. Tommy pinches his waist in retaliation and Buck squirms just a little closer to him.

“Since he was a dancer, I tried to find us a club. You know, dancing at a club was a stereotypically gay thing I could do to prove to this guy I was, in fact, gay. Like the asking-on-a-date part wasn’t explanatory enough.”

“Dancing’s a good first date!” Buck argues, not yet seeing the downside to this conversation.

“Oh, it can be! Except I was terrified to fuck it up, so trusted some stranger on the internet to recommend a spot.”

“Oh no,” Buck mutters.

“Oh, yes,” Tommy agrees. He winces like the memory has been repressed for a little too long. “It was a swingers, leather club. Needed a password to get in.”

“The stranger didn’t give you the password, did he?” Buck guesses.

“Worse. My date knew it and ditched me almost the second we got inside.”

“Oh no,” Buck repeats, though he’s holding back laughter. Tommy waves him on.

“Go ahead, go ahead. Get your laughs out.”

Buck does, throwing his head back for a moment before looking back over at Tommy. He’s staring at Buck like he’s made of sunshine and Buck has never felt brighter.

“So, is this your way of telling me you're into leather, then?” Buck jokes.

“It’s my way of telling you,” Tommy stops, turns, and makes sure he’s looking directly into Buck’s eyes, “that first dates are terrifying no matter who you are with, but how you feel about someone at the end is all that matters.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks. He feels small with Tommy’s eyes on him, with Tommy’s hand around his waist, sliding to the small of his back where he’s unused to being touched so gently.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees. Buck waits until Tommy glances down at his lips before he smiles.

“And how do you feel about me?” Buck asks. He brings his hands up to put one of Tommy’s broad shoulders and the other brushes a strand of Tommy’s hair back. The red that blooms on Tommy’s cheeks makes Buck’s heart sore.

“I feel…” Tommy begins to lean forward and Buck’s ready for the kiss this time. He isn’t going to be surprised. He knows what to do with his hands. He’s ready to show Tommy that he knows how to kiss better than he knows how to date.

But then Tommy’s gone, and when Buck realizes it, they’re already a few feet apart, Tommy walking backward down the street.

He shouts, “I feel a little damp and sticky. Come back to my place so we can fix that?”

Buck runs after him, shouting, “Is that an innuendo? I don’t get them all yet!”

Contagious laughter echoes through the almost empty streets, and joy thrums through Buck’s entire being. Awkwardness aside, he thinks he could easily get used to this.

[bornetoblood]

Moon Divorce Essay

2004 words about why I think Laurence the First Vicar and Gehrman the First Hunter are married

Sorry about this.

We’ll begin with the concept that Laurence and Gehrman are integral to the overall plot of Bloodborne and interlinked so that it is impossible to speak of one while disregarding the other. The Healing Chruch (thus all of its actions, subsects and influences) likely wouldn’t have formed without both of them. Similarly, the creation of The Hunter’s Dream relies on the two’s pact with the Moon Presence. As is its perpetuation reliant solely on one’s belief in the other. Through this lens, the relationship between the First Vicar and Hunter can be seen as the basis for every aspect of Bloodborne’s plot- a throughline to the game's events. They- when taken as a whole- act as a microcosm for Bloodborne’s themes of violence, ambition, and how both cause a loss of humanity. The game, at least in part, hinges on the lengths that they will go to uphold promises they’ve made to each other.

Through Laurence’s link to Byrgenwerth and Gehrman’s connection to the Orphan of Kos- as well as his appearance in the Old Hunter’s trailer within the Fishing Hamlet- we can infer that they are both in some way connected to the massacre and the desecration of Kos’ corpse. This is of course supported by the implication that they are both somehow haunted by it as Laurence (or at least his consciousness) is trapped within the nightmare and Gehrman experiences distressing dreams. The creation of The Hunter’s Nightmare and the discovery of the Old Blood can be interpreted as the inciting events of the game’s plot within Yharnam- or at least mostly removed from the Pthumarians. Both of these events set the immediate framework for the Good Hunter’s night in Yharnam and both of them revolve around these two characters. 

The discovery of the Blood led directly to the founding of the Healing Church and- as Master Willem describes it- Laurence’s “betrayal” of Byrgenwerth. This is most likely about Laurence’s departure from the college due to his conflicting ideals with the Provost. Willem however (albeit in cut dialogue) refers to a similar “betrayal” by Gehrman, implying that they departed together or in ways that are at least viewed the same by Willem. There is more legitimacy in the speculation that they were working together, however. The Old Hunter’s Workshop is located within the grounds of the Church and Ludwig’s hunters are referred to as a sort of replacement for Gehrman’s lot. This presents the hunters and the Chruch as linked from their conception. Gehrman and his Workshop Hunters’ worked secretly to dispose of what few beasts sprang up around Yharnam and Laurence’s Church enjoyed a safe environment to grow. 

Another way in which Gehrman and Laurence (as a collective) shape the world of Bloodborne is through the Hunter’s Dream. “Laurence and his associates beckoned the Nameless Moon Presence” as a note in the Lecture Hall states. One of these “associates” is clearly Gehrman, as his connection to the Dream is undeniable. He acts as the caretaker and mentor to its hunters ad infinitum. The Hunter’s Dream is the backbone of Bloodborne’s gameplay- a loop of violence, death, and rebirth until obstacles are overcome. Once again, Laurence and Gehrman’s actions as a collective are integral.

Solidifying the two’s connection to both the Dream and each other is the game’s music. Both Laurence and Gehrman’s boss themes borrow melodies from Flora’s (although it is very hard to hear in Laurence’s).

Yet their connection to the Dream goes deeper than structure. Its creation (and the subsequent fallout) is the centre of their interconnection. There is a cut conversation that proceeds as follows:

Laurence: So you’re intent on hunting beasts? Even if they are men? Gehrman: Yes, the hunt must go on. It’s all that keeps us human, now. Laurence: But why must you… Gehrman: Farewell Laurence. I await the realisation of your ‘ministration.’ Laurence: Indeed, Gehrman. It won’t be long. We can infer that this is about the creation of the Dream as it is a farewell. Laurence is checking that Gehrman is alright with continuing the hunt and Gehrman confirms and promises he’ll wait for him. The “realisation of ‘ministration’” is most likely ascension through the Old Blood. As the description for the Communion Rune states: “ministration is, of course, the pursuit of communion.” This communion is the goal of all the scholars- to become Great Ones and have audience with them. Laurence’s tone in this interaction is almost mournful; it seems like he’s about the talk Gehrman out of going through with it before trailing off. Laurence’s hesitancy towards both the hunt and continued use of the blood is implied to worsen as the scourge continues. Gehrman, however, is convinced of the legitimacy of communion and the need for the hunt. This conviction he would apparently retain.

The amount of time that has passed between the formation of the Dream and the events of the game is unclear, yet what is apparent is that time’s effect on Gehrman. He is miserable in this “Nightmare” as he calls it, asking “Oh, Laurence... what's taking you so long... I've grown too old for this, of little use now, I'm afraid…” while muttering in his sleep. It appears that Gehrman’s primary concern is not his own misery, but the fact he is no longer “of use” due to his inability to hunt. This sentiment appears two more times in cut dialogue, generally in reference to Laurence. He doesn’t mention being an asset to the Hunt or the Healing Church- only the Vicar. Gehrman sees his role in the Dream as directly linked to Laurence.

There is another implication within cut dialogue concerning this. Gehrman mentions that he cannot leave the dream because of a “promise” he made to a “dear friend”. Not only does this show that Gehrman knows that death will free him from this “nightmare” but that he refuses to do so for Laurence’s sake. Despite the toll time and the Dream has clearly taken on him he seems adamant in the fact that Laurence will succeed and save him. Gehrman places faith in his friend which borders on unreasonable. His purpose in the Dream and his decision to remain trapped hinges on this faith. Although this can be viewed as a result of the deification of Laurence by the Healing Church, this isn’t the only example of this unwavering devotion Gehrman exhibits towards him. If Gehrman did indeed leave Byrgenwerth at Laurence’s behest (as previously theorised) it even seems to predate the Church’s existence.

Gehrman’s devotion seeps into every aspect of his time in the Dream: his purpose, his imprisonment, and even his death. When Gehrman is killed, the voice line that he says has an extension in cut dialogue: “What? Looking to free me? Then I graciously accept. Forgive me, Laurence, I could not wait... The night, and the dream, were long…”We can assume that the “freedom” the player is granting to Gehrman here is death. Therefore, Gehrman is apologising to the Vicar with his dying breath. For not making good on their promise, despite his desire to do so. Overall, Gehrman’s cut dialogue presents a conflict between his commitment to seeing Laurence again and the turmoil caused by staying within the Dream. Although seemingly, Gehrman willingly dies at the hand of the Good Hunter in this instance, that isn’t what happens within the game. Gehrman fights the player as a way to protect them from his fate, but also to continue in his belief that Laurence will come for him. He doesn’t die willingly, despite the relief it brings him. Yet, Gehrman’s dedication isn’t as one-sided as it appears at first glance. Laurence dies in his pursuit of ascension, dragging Yharnam down with him, and it is plausible to assume that this was fueled by this “promise” the two made (along with, of course, the general devotion the Byrgenwerth scholars have to goal).

The interaction between Laurence and Gehrman in cut dialogue is, presumably, a flashback- Gehrman sounds younger and Laurence is no older than he does in his conversation with Master Willem. Therefore, we can assume that this cutscene likely would have been triggered by another instance of Laurence’s skull (possibly the one in The Hunter’s Nightmare). Therefore, the two memories Laurence retained despite his beasthood were the Adage- which his going against led to the Hunt and the progressive unravelling of Yharnam- and his promise to Gehrman, that “It won’t be long”. This puts the two events at a similar level of importance within the Vicar’s mind- the value with which he considered Gehrman is evident to place him on the same importance as the “sacred” moto of the Chruch.

There is also something to be said regarding Laurence’s punishment within the Hunter’s Nightmare being his memory loss. Having one of his last memories be his promise to Gehrman as the representation of that punishment solidifies its importance.

Furthermore, if we take the theory that Laurence is the Bloodletting Beast found within the Chalice Dungeons -supported by its title of ‘Founder Beast’ in Japanese, the notable loss of its head, and the theme of bloodletting and corruption of the blood it shares with Laurence- it can be inferred that the Vicar died trying to reach Queen Yharnam and her child. This was either for the goal of ascension or the repeated summoning of The Moon Presence. What is particularly interesting is the implication that the Beast continued to venture deeper into the Chalices despite being fully transformed (and full of bugs). This may be due to the Beast’s embrace, its “gentle” form of beasthood may aid in the retention of memory. This is conveyed visually also: the Suspicious Beggar, Bloodletting Beast, and player all adopt more ape-like features in their transformation with their -assumed- use of the rune. This acts as a visual tie back to their humanity. With both of these points in mind, it can be argued that Laurence (despite his beasthood and loss of memory) continued to fight his way towards Mergo because he had to fulfil his promise to Gehrman, mirroring his devotion. Despite his failure to protect his- and Yharnam’s- humanity, Laurence’s fielty to the First Hunter appears to live on past it.

Laurence dies in an attempt to uphold his promise and Gehrman stays alive in an effort to do the same.

This shared devotion is explored further in an earlier draft of the game. Gehrman has this passage of cut dialogue:

Laurence, the end is not far away, now. Every last dream will burn out, and Flora will return from the moon. As for us, the time has come to honour our vows. Hunters are needed no longer. You and I shall fight to the death, and she will consume the victor. The way we've always said we'd end it, you recall. Oh, Laurence. Of course, you remember.

There is an obvious connotation of marriage with “vows” being used to refer to a promise between the two. Yet the more homoerotic insinuation comes with the fact that this promise was a fight to the death for the sake of ascension. The deep trust and shared goal that such an act has to have. They clearly care about each other more than they do anyone else yet they believe that sacrificing that connection for the sake of the greater good is worth it. It is delightfully tragic. 

Of course, this explicit and mutual dedication does not require a romantic connection, but with Bloodborne’s deep themes of queerness (unintentional they may be) and Gehrman’s repeated yearning for Laurence’s return, I don’t believe it to be unfounded. They are the reason for the Dream’s existence and perpetuation and, with it, the Hunt itself. The Scourge is created and fought against by the two of them and their factions. They embody the Healing Church’s hypocrisy and the cyclical violence it creates. Yet they also present an unwavering devotion towards each other that transcends death, perpetual entrapment and lots of werewolves. I adore them for that. Thank you for reading this whole thing! Absolute delight! You can have all my blood. Go on. Take it!

[birdsbats-madness]

bruce and jason are like the 'leave me alone baby- UGHHH THATS MY BABY 🥺🥺🥺' meme but reversed. you get me?

[lazilybeinglassie]

@theghostshost is currently holding a prompt list for LMK this October. I thought I would try my hand at this, and decided to make each prompt a chapter in this 31 chapter story. Next day will be chapter 2, and I will either reblog this post when I add a new chapter everyday. (just trying to get some writting practice down and thought doing a prompt list would be fun) Hope you all like it, and if you do, come check out my other fics on the same A03 account I posted with. Enjoy!

[tv1xx]

Go read my newest fic 😊

[melopie-artz]

Guys, I am finally posting the brain rot of my AU! go check it out plz I am working hard on it ;-;

[karaokebearwithal]

I dislike proof reading my work >:(

[ectoplasmbender]

fanfiction net still exists??? O: i thought it was gonna get deleted

I think that is a rumor that resurfaces every now and again, but to my knowledge it's not going anywhere. I'm old and used to FFnet and I hate reformatting my writing for A03 bc it's tedious, but eventually I'll try to cross post there bc I know most ppl prefer that site these days

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Omg guys I feel terrible I didn't know I posted Impulses TWO months ago- 😭

At least the smut came after that but Holy crap I never realized it was thay long ago

[retellingthehobbit]

Retelling The Hobbit Chapter 16: The Song of the Lonely Mountain First chapter / Previous / Next

To view full comic: Webtoon/A03 / Tumblr post with links to all chapters

Other blogs: TikTok/Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog

*crumbles into dust after finishing this* Thank you for reading! This The Hobbit webcomic adaptation thing takes a lot of effort to put together and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate every comment. I also really appreciate the people who’ve spread the word of this comic to their friends! <3

And finally, we’re at the Song of the Lonely Mountain! Within Tolkien’s canon, The Hobbit is an in-universe book that was “written” by Bilbo Baggins, who occasionally lies/embellishes/exaggerates things. The tonal differences between The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are explained by Bilbo and Frodo/Sam being different kinds of storytellers, with different relationships to “the truth.” This idea is the core of how I’m adapting the novel!  Bilbo is an unreliable narrator who is literally ‘drawing’ from his own limited experiences;  the different art styles reflect the different perspectives of other characters.   The “dwarf art style” in this chapter is inspired by stonework/metalwork in general— but especially by a mix of art deco, Celtic art, and European folk art. 

The central tension of the comic is between Bilbo and Thorin, who each have wildly different ideas about what kind of  story they’re in. Thorin is in a grand fantasy epic, while Bilbo is in a lighthearted children’s book adventure.  The tragedy is, obviously, that only one side of the story ever gets to be fully told.

On a sillier note, a few years ago I had my first gay crush on a lesbian who sang while playing the piano. This chapter is dedicated to the piano lesbian. I hope they’re doing well, wherever they are. XD

I think I might need a bit of a break but I’m hoping for the next chapter, titled “Dawn,” to arrive on January 13th. And your comments/support really do help motivate me to get more done! ^_^

[twilightangel83]

Hello and good day to all my fellow Legend of Zelda fans!

As you may or may not be aware we in the Legend of Zelda fandom have been having some troubles when it comes to tagging on A03. Mostly that the only tags that seem to be available to tag various Links with was the Linked Universe specific tags. Which led to writers either trying to make their own tags (which no one knew how to find) or inaccurately using Linked Universe Tags. Neither of which were fair to creators writing outside of Linked Universe, or fair to the Linked Universe community (let alone JoJo herself!).

People trying to tag their non-Linked Universe fics were either scrambling to be found or blending their words in with Linked Universe works. And Linked Universe fans who were searching for Linked Universe fics ended up stumbling across fics they weren’t looking for.

So, with that in mind, I reached out to the A03 team in search of a solution. And they have gotten back to me! I am going to post a picture of their reply under the cut, but I will summarize it first.

There (now? I’m not clear if they’ve all existed before) are tags we can use for most of our various Links that aren't Linked Universe. They’re just not tags that go in the “Character” box. Instead, you put Link (Legend of Zelda) in the character box and then one (or more) of these tags into the “Additional Tags” box. The tags are ‘Link from X game’. So, for example: Link from Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom (Legend of Zelda) or Link from Twilight Princess (Legend of Zelda). If you try to put a specific Link in and they don’t exist already you’ll just have to fill it in unfortunately. And the more people use that tag the sooner it will be made into one that’s canonized.

Mind you! These tags should NOT be used for Linked Universe fanfictions. JoJo has explicitly asked that Linked Universe fanworks NOT be tagged with general Legend of Zelda tags. And that is what these are. So please leave these tags for those of us writing outside of Linked Universe.

I did a little experimenting and there seems to be a tag for every game EXCEPT;

“Link from Four Swords Adventures (Legend of Zelda)”,

"Link from Triforce Heroes (Legend of Zelda)",

“Link from The Legend of Zelda (Legend of Zelda)”,

“Link from The Adventures of Link (Legend of Zelda)”, and

“Link from Age of Calamity (Legend of Zelda)”.

There is also no tag for:

“The Hero of Men (Legend of Zelda)” (or whatever title could be used for the hero before Link from The Minish Cap)

But there are Character tags for “Ancient Hero (Legend of Zelda)” and “Hylia’s Chosen Hero (Legend of Zelda)” (who I believe is the First Hero).

The more we, as a fandom, use these tags (especially the ones that aren’t currently searchable) the more readily usable they will be.

[starheavenly]

I'm out of a03 jail so I posted my first fic here

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[slytherin-ghost]

{Where's The Baby?}

Bat family x child! reader, Reader is about 3 years old

Summary: The boys take their little sibling y/n to Wayne Enterprises and they end up losing them. Causing everyone to go into panic mode

(I know the GIF isn't batfamily but I thought it would be funny)

Bruce had left this morning before his youngest y/n had a chance to spend time with their father, leaving the child upset once they woke up.

"Y/N, eat your food" Dick said, y/n pouted and mumbled something. "What's their problem?" Tim said walking in and sitting at the table. Dick sighed "They didn't see Father this morning before he left so now their cranky." Damian informed. "I believe a visit to Master Bruce's office will help their mood." Alfred suggested.

Less than 5 minutes later, the boys and y/n walked into the lobby of Wayne Enterprises. The boys discussed where they think Bruce would be. "Is he in a meeting?" Jason asked "We don't know." Dick respond. While this was happening no one noticed Y/n walking into an elevator.

"Okay c'mon Y/N." Tim said "Guys we lost Y/N?!" Tim announced "What?!" Jason yelled. "Okay, We'll look around, they couldn't have gone far." Dick said. The group started searching. Tim with Damian went to the second floor. Dick going to the fifth. While Jason went to the 7th.

Meanwhile Y/N started to get out of the elevator at the same time Bruce was about to get in. "Daddy!" Y/n squealed excitedly "Y/N?!" Bruce picked up his child. Bruce sighed "They lost you again, didn't they?" He said walking back to his office with the child.

The boys nervously walked to Bruce's office, knowing he would kill them once he found out. "I think Todd should go in first." Damian said smirking "No! Dick you go in!" Jason replied "Why do I have too?!" Dick whispered- shouted "Your the oldest!" Tim responded.

Dick sighed and opened the office door. "Hey Bruce we-"

"I already know." Bruce cut Dick off. A little squeal that came from the toddler, confirmed that Y/N was with Bruce. "Thank fucking god! We can go home now!" Jason sighed.

Everyone sighed at Jason's actions.

Once home, that's when the boys got their baby-sitting privileges taken away which were handed over to Alfred. Who was more than happy to spend all day with the child.

Please give me credit if you reblog my work

I don't post to a03 or any other site if you see my work there please message me

[teastainedprose]

Lap Cat

I blame @ghoulphile for this because of her reply that I stole and this ask she got. [A03 link]

“better behave yourself now, kitten. I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” 🔞 1,242 words | Pre-War, Post Divorce Cooper, Sometimes a lady just wants to be a good little kitten for Mr. Howard. Sorta. (established relationship, kitten pet name OBVIOUSLY, light fingering, light oral sex)

It's a lazy sort of afternoon where the warm sunlight and humidity leaves you languid. Mellow and sluggish. Being well fucked will do that to a gal. You're sore in all the right places and utterly content to sprawl out on the couch beside Cooper.

The TV drones on, a distant buzz to your ears as you let your consciousness slip in and out. You're comfortable, settled on the couch with Cooper's thigh as a pillow and an arm flung over his lap. He's reclining back, casually puffing on a cigarette as he watches the TV. You don't know that he's watching your serene expression just as often as the screen.

His other hand relocates every now and then as Cooper smokes. First at your shoulder with his thumb idly rubbing under the sleeve of your dress. Then swooping down the curve of your side to repeat the same languid stroke at your thigh. Occasionally he'll let fingers wander to tease down the soft flesh of your thighs or give your ass a playful squeeze as you murmur and burrow closer.

You don't dip fully into sleep until Cooper starts playing with your hair, fingers combing through it while his even breathing lulls you. It's soothing, being nestled against the warmth of him while Cooper pets you. His scent envelopes you fully from where your head rests, every breath making sure your senses are full of him. The faint smell of horses, leather, stale smoke, and the woodland scent that's uniquely him. It makes you nuzzle your face against his thigh affectionately, seeking more of his scent.

You blink, time skipping ahead in an instant as you look up. There's his cigarette in the ashtray, stumped out before you glance up to catch his eyes. "There she is," He rumbles with lips turned up in a smile.

"Mhhm? Did I fall asleep? Sorry." A sigh escapes you as you rub your cheek against his lap, having scooted closer in your sleep.

"Not long. Only a few minutes, sweetheart." The hand that had been motionless on your thigh squeezes. There's a telltale twitch against your cheek.

That brings a wicked smile to your lips as you turn your head, nuzzling more insistently at the fly of his jeans. Cooper inhales sharply, palm skimming up your thigh to slide under your dress as he takes up a handful of your ass.

"Now, now. Quit your squirmin' before I make you do something about that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Howard." You grin, shifting to turn wide innocent eyes up to him while stretching out. Which in turn presses the swell of one ass cheek further into his palm. You sigh mid-stretch, letting your nails dig into the fabric of his jeans before easing yourself back down across the couch and his lap. As content as a cat.

"Mhm, brat." Cooper's chuckle is a low rumble in his chest that vibrates down to you. There's a moment of consideration, his fingers flexing into the fat of your backside before he smiles indulgently down at you. He shifts his free hand off the arm of the couch to press the knuckle of his pointer finger insistently between your lips.

You part your lips willingly as he twists his finger, pressing down on your tongue. You promptly clamp teeth about his knuckle with a tiny growl. Defiance flashes in your eyes as you turn your head minutely to catch his eye.

“Better behave yourself now, kitten," He tuts, a stern expression settling on his face. "I thought we learned what happens when you use teeth.” There's a certain tone creeping into Cooper's voice that sends an electric jolt of arousal through you. It's the sort of tone that unconsciously pulls compliance out of you.

He smirks as you relax your jaw and promptly curl your tongue about his finger, sucking diligently as commanded.

"There's my good girl," He croons while stroking the curve of your ass.

At the praise, your eyes roll back in pleasure before squeezing them shut, squirming eagerly against him. Cooper's palm slides silently under your panties to cup your sex. He hums his approval, middle finger tapping against slick folds.

"So eager for me, ain'tcha kitten?" Cooper rasps out as he takes you in contently sucking on his finger. He continues to tease between your legs with his other hand, middle finger pressing insistently between slick folds. The honey brown and deep forest green of his eyes darken as he watches every reaction he pulls from you.

You can only moan about the fingers in your mouth in response, fisting up as much of his jeans as you can. He slides another digit between your lips and presses harshly down on your tongue. Automatically, you swallow about his fingers while taking care not to bite out of reflex. A disgruntled sound escapes you all the same. There are better things to have your lips wrapped around.

As if to reward you for the lack of teeth, he presses his middle finger between your folds while spreading them wider with ring and index finger. That index finger teases at your entrance, ghosting over but never slipping in. You huff about his fingers, hips canting to press into his palm only for Cooper to pull back. You need more. Either Cooper needs to start rubbing at your clit or sliding fingers inside of you. Even better if he'd let you crawl atop his lap and ride him properly.

He clicks his tongue as you clamp teeth about his fingers in clear frustration, promptly moving his hand from between your legs. He gives your ass a parting pat as you glower, his fingers still pressing insistently against your tongue until you release your teeth.

"Frustrated, baby?" He croons down to you. "Want something else in your mouth?"

Pulling his fingers from your mouth with a sudden pop, Cooper wastes no time as he unbuttons his pants to free his already straining erection. In moments his cock is bobbing mere inches from your face.

Biting your bottom lip, you lean closer as one hand comes to wrap fingers around the base of his shaft. It gets his cock twitching as Cooper huffs.

"Kitten, you're gonna need to take care o' this before you get anything else. You can do that for me, can't ya?" He drops a hand to stroke over your hair, nudging your face closer.

You're all but purring in excitement. You're over eager as you pop the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue pressing against the crown to taste him. It earns you a groan out of Cooper as he drops her head back. His cock twitches between your lips as pre-cum dribbles freely against your tongue. The taste is bitter salt on your tastebuds, but it makes you moan in pleasure all the same as you lap it up. That gains you a second groan out of Cooper, fingers digging into your hair briefly. Your eyes roll up to meet his as you smirk about his cock like the wicked little creature you are.

"Mind the teeth now." He murmurs, hand sliding into your hair to guide your mouth further down his cock. "How 'bout you show me how good you can be? Earn that reward, sweetheart."

What exactly your reward will end up being is a mystery, but you're eager to earn it all the same.