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finniestoncrane · 1 year ago

Note

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.”

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

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prettycottagequeer · 1 year ago

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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

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sexy-monster-fucker · 8 days ago

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No One Has to Know What We Do

Jealous!John Walker x Thunderbolts*!Reader

Summary: Valentina forces the Team to attend a Charity Gala. Tensions are high, especially when you sharing a dance with Congressman Barnes is the talk of the gala. And John has to pretend he is unbothered.

CW: Thunderbolts* spoilers, hidden feelings, mutual pining, reader was involved in the End Game battle/is a former Avenger, Reader is a bit of a tech geek, typical Bucky vs John dynamic, Valentina being a shit (I hate and love her), media coverage, paparazzi being creeps, typical MCU violence, kinda love triangle I guess(?), mild degradation, makeout, fluff, spanking, oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie

a/n: okay I got mouthy with this, but I don't know the last time I dedicated this much time to a single fanfic. I really enjoyed laying out such a detailed story so I hope you enjoy!!! <3

word count: 14.8 k

title track 🎶🥂

~~~

“I have to wear… this?”

Your hands hovered around your torso. Low-cut dress hugging every curve of your body. Flattering. This just was not something you were used to. Tactical gear was usually all you wore. Unable to remember the last time you were this dressed up. Probably Tony’s funeral.

“Don’t be picky. It’s custom tailored for you,” Valentina shrugged with a smile.

No doubting that. The way it perfectly cupped your breasts and ass told you that. Never would some random dress off a rack fit you so well. Unsure how to feel. It was stunning, far more expensive than anything you had ever owned. But you could not help but think of the practicality of it. Skin tight dresses did not give you optimal movement. Especially with the heels Valentina just insisted you wear.

“What if something happens?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Valentina sighed, turning to look at you. Head falling softly to the side, snickering, “Other than you having to fight off some bachelors tonight.”

You rolled your eyes hard. Hating Valentina’s obsession with your personal life and relationships. She knew that any press was good press, so of course it excited her to think of the possible headlines that would be plastered everywhere by tomorrow morning. ‘New Avenger spotted leaving party with Congressman!’ It made her heart beat faster. Thinking of all the coverage it would bring for the Team.

“Val,” you chastised. Arms folding over your chest as your brows furrowed. You were no stranger to her games. Setting you all up to have to swat away paparazzi for the next month over this Gala. A charity event for people who lost everything during the blip. A fundraiser that had started off small by a lady in Queens. Blossoming into something bigger with the sponsorship of Happy Hogan. All in honor of the late woman.

“Come on. You’re young. Hot. And single. You really think the boys won’t be dripping off you tonight,” Valentina shimmied her shoulders with her words.

You sighed loudly. Staring yourself down in the mirror. Shifting side to side to get a better look at the fabric of your dress. Valentina really thought she knew it all. While she was mostly correct, you made sure to keep certain personal aspects of your life hidden. Especially from her.

Like your harboring crush on one of your teammates. Super soldier. Gruff. Recently divorced. Cocksure attitude a turn off to most, but not you.

John Walker. Former Captain America. Even if it was only for a few weeks. And he made sure none of you forgot that he was Captain America. Chosen to be. Government’s number one pick. High school football champion. War veteran.

All the things he considered achievements.

Smug attitude was pretty on him. The way his eyes would light up when he made a smart comeback. The soft tug of a smirk on his lips whenever he would watch whoever he taunted get angry.

You liked him this way.

As much as you hated being this dressed up, the idea of the look on John’s face when he saw you made your stomach flutter. His eyebrows would bounce and his lips would softly part, displaying his bottom teeth. Eyes raking down your body, definitely lingering on your chest. And it would make you blush. Probably would not even be able to make complete sentences.

“Hurry up and get your shoes on. Limou will be here in ten,” Valentina stared down at her phone as she snapped her fingers. Exiting your room. Airlocks of your door shutting back. A soft hiss the only sound in the room. You sat on the edge of your bed and closed the straps of your heels. Not accustomed to wearing shoes such as these. Wobbling on your legs like a newborn deer. Strutting across your room until you got the hang of it. Large hooped earrings jingling in your ears. Necklace laying across your collar. Stopping in front of your vanity, leaning over it to look closely at your makeup. A full face. Grand departure compared to the usual mascara and lip balm you wore. False lashes and thick eyeshadow. A matte lipstick accented with a matching gloss. Highlight and contour accented your face. You bared your teeth, seeing the splotch of lipstick on them. Rubbing your finger across your teeth with a little squeak trying to get it off.

Firm knocking on your door made you jump. Thinking maybe time had slipped away from you. “Coming,” you called out to whoever it could be. Flattening your hands on your dress and walking over to the door. Ghosting your hand in front of the reader so that it would open. Expecting Yelena or the return of Valentina. Coming to tell you to hurry along. But instead you were greeted by a taller figure.

Broad chest. Navy blue suit adorning his body. Perfectly accenting his piercing blue eyes. Solid black undershirt, unbuttoned at the top. No tie, only his dirty blonde chest hair peaking out. His dog tags tucked, but the chain was shining. Hugging against his large shoulders. Metals he had been presented from his time in the military pinned to his jacket. Hair slicked back, looking tamer than it ever had in his time on the team. Beard brushed down.

Your chest tightened. Stunned with how handsome he looked. Fluttering long lashes up at him. Holding your arms firm at your sides. Wanting to rub your hands across the expansion of his chest.

John was taken aback by you. Swearing a dress had never fit someone so perfectly. Cleavage reveal just enough for him to take a peak, reverting to his gentlemanly nature and looking past them. His cheeks grew pink for a moment.

Neither of you had outright said how you felt. That made this exchange a little more awkward. Yes, you spent time together. Having movie marathons and cooking for each other. Swearing you had never had a more delectable Chicken Parmesan than John’s. And he was kind to you. Holding doors and offering you his arm as an escort. Glances in crowded rooms lasting longer than they normally would. Neither of you wanting to seem desperate.

But it just made things… difficult.

A game of cat and mouse to see who would crack first. Finding yourselves doing things to make the other mildly jealous. Wearing far too short shorts when walking around the tower, even into the crowded screening room with the other three males of your team. And John would always make sure you saw after a particularly sweaty workout. Muscles toned and throbbing, glistening with perspiration. Towel absentmindedly tossed around his neck.

“You’re kinda a slut,” John would say with his arms bulging across his chest. Joking, of course. This was how you joked back and forth. Watching you bend over to pick something up. Making sure to arch your back and stand even slower so that he could get his fill.

“Yeah? You’re kinda standing there watching like a whore,” you shrugged. Throwing the towel that you had picked up straight at him. Catching it in his large palm like it was nothing. Hooded eyes watching you walk over to him. Head tilted ever slightly.

“I’m not the one letting my ass hang out of my shorts,” John cocked a brow.

“Hmmm,” you tapped your chin, “You should though. Get you some tight, slutty camp counselor shorts. Have it say ‘U.S.A.’ across the ass cheeks. It would be a good show.”

Not letting him win. Only playing further into his game. Causing his face to flush and brows to contort when he could not come up with a clever come back.

“Shut up,” John would roll his eyes.

You would blow him a kiss as you kept walking. Unable to see his eyes lasering into you from behind. Making sure to sway your hips because you knew he was watching. Tongue wetting his bottom lip, trying not to let the way his cock throbbed be too obvious.

“Wow,” John said.

You gave him a closed mouth smile. Folding your hands over in front of yourself. Pushing up on your tiptoes and widening your eyes, “Hi, Walker.”

“You look beautiful,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” you tugged at the sides of the dress, “That suit really makes your eyes pop.”

“O-Oh, yeah? Val sent me to come get you,” he deviated, putting a fake laugh over his words.

“Limou already here?”

John nodded. Still taking in every detail of you. Wanting to make sure he kept the memory forever. You looked so good. So stunning.

You walked to the elevator together. Meeting the rest of the Team along the way. Bucky, Yelena, and Alexei. Valentina could not even begin to force Ava to attend. Not good with crowds, plus it was difficult to get an outfit that would hide her suit. And, well, Bob. Not exactly liked by the public. And she did not want to leave him alone, just in case he began spiraling. It was better to have someone stay behind just in case he needed anything.

Alexei wore a crimson red suit. Freshly shaved head glistening in the lights and jewelry decorating every finger. Sunglasses adorning the New Avengers logo on the side resting on his nose. Yelena wore a white dress. Off shoulder, hair braided along the sides. A stunning full face of makeup, complete with a glittery eye. And Bucky wore a black suit. White undershirt with a black tie. Looking very professional. Classic.

The five of you stepped into the elevator together. John, Alexei, and Yelena ended up against the back side. You and Bucky standing in front of them. Catching his sideways glances at you. Looking over at him with a smile.

Bucky leaned over, lips almost touching your ear, “You look nice.”

Your cheeks heated up at the compliment. Eyes scanning his face, catching his oceanic stare. The corner of his mouth curved upward. Brows sitting heavy on his eyes. One of them barely arching like he was challenging you.

“Thank you. So do you,” you leaned and whispered back to him.

As if everyone else in the elevator could not hear you. Yelena and Alexei exchanged a knowing glance, both of them having to hide their laughter. Yelena peered over to John. His jaw locked. Chest puffed up as his lip twitched. Vein along his temple bulging as his eyes shot through Bucky’s chest.

Yelena pinched at her father’s coat, discreetly pointing to Walker. Alexei’s eyes widened as his jaw hung slacked. Looking back to his daughter with shock. Looking like there was about to be a war tonight.

John tried to steady his breathing. Hating the little giggle that laced your response to Bucky. Becoming enraged by the way Bucky’s eyes ravaged your entire body. Knowing Bucky’s intention, and not liking it. His fists balled at his sides. Curling his fingers in and out as he tried to calm down. It would have been easier if Bucky would stop looking over at you with that shiteating grin of his.

Quickly, Yelena got her phone out to send a text updating Ava on the possible drama of the night. Ava responding almost immediately, ‘KEEP ME UPDATED.’

This was going to be fun.

Ding of the elevator door told you you had reached the ground floor. Bucky’s hand meeting the small of your back as he guided you out. His other hand casually tucked into his pocket. Rest of the team following tightly behind.

John was seeing red.

Watching how nonchalantly you followed his lead. Acting as if you did this often. The words the two of you shared were drowned out by the ringing of John’s ears. Only able to watch how you talked with one of your hands, and how Bucky kept smiling at you. It was so easy for him to hate any man who kept his eyes on you.

The sun had set. Glow of the street lamps the only thing that allowed your eyes to adjust outside. All of you stepping onto the sidewalk, greeted by a limou and Valentina in a sparkling red dress.

“What a good looking bunch!” she clapped her hands and squatted a little in excitement. Showing off her pearly whites with her chuckle. Eyes fixating on how closely you and Bucky stood. Pointing between the two of you with a grin. Widening her gaze with a bounce of her brows.

You rolled your eyes at her. Blowing your breath out hard as you crossed your arms over your chest. An over exaggerated wink was given to you.

“Alright, New Avengers, let’s get to it!” Valentina gestured towards the opened door of the limousine. None of you moved. Awkward silence only broken up by the distant sounds of the streets. Honking and buzzing of lights.

“Okay…” Valentina’s voice trailed off as she put her hands in the prayer position to her lips, “Yelena— in first!”

Yelena shrugged. Encouraging her father to join her. The two of them taking turns getting in, Alexei gave Valentina a dirty look before entering. “I can drive limousine,” Alexei gritted his teeth, words laced with anger.

“I know, big guy,” Valentina patted him on the shoulder. Nodding with her head low in defeat. Eyes widening at the remaining three of you.

“Come on,” Val encouraged.

Bucky stepped forward first, turning to offer you his hand. Accepting it graciously. Giggling softly as he led you forward. Turning to reach your free hand out of John. Grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him behind you. Stumbling at first, quick to correct his mistake. You smiled widely back at him, no longer looking at Bucky. John could not stop the way the corner of his mouth upturned in response.

The three of you taking the seats across from Yelena and Alexei. You sat in the middle of the two super soldiers. Hands folded neatly in your lap.

“Alright, Super Troopers, I’ll see you there,” Valentina waved from outside the door.

“You’re not coming with us?” Yelena questioned.

Valentina laughed, “Showing up with you ragtag bunch? Absolutely not. Keep on your best behavior, remember how many cameras will be there. I’ll find you all later. Don’t say or do anything damning!”

She slammed the door as a punctuation. All of you looking at each other with hints of confusion and bit of aggravation. For someone so invested in this New Avengers thing, Valentina sure did not dedicate herself to the group aspect as she should have. Easier for her to put the blame on all of you when things went wrong this way.

“Of course,” Yelena said unimpressed.

“Devil woman,” Alexei growled.

You chuckled. Pushing your body into John’s, looking up at him with a wide smile. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised,” you admitted looking across to Yelena. Giving her a closed mouth smile and a shrug.

All of you shared in your soft laughter. Allowing yourself to be as calm as possible before the storm that awaited you. Your hand mindlessly rested on John’s thigh for a moment. It consumed his mind. Just how easy it was for you to touch him. The way your body instinctively leaned into his. Almost like a couple. Deciding to relax his own arm across the back of the shared seat. Like it was around your shoulders, just without the blatant physical touch. Fingertips nearly touching Bucky’s metal shoulder. Reminding him of what had him angry to begin with.

Bucky peered over at John. Blue eyes telling him he was aware of the game the two of them were playing. Confirming the suspicions he had been festering on. The two boys had never gotten along. From the moment they met, there was an animosity between them. Steve Rogers’, our original Captain America’s, best friend versus the man the U.S. Government had decided to give the mantel to. There was no world in which they saw eye-to-eye. Especially after John had so distastefully disgraced Steve’s legacy. A legacy that Bucky was all too intertwined in.

You were unaware of the war waging over you. Discussing all the possible public figures you would be seeing tonight with Yelena and Alexei. Recalling some of the events of the battle against Thanos, explaining how severe everything had been leading up to the Blip. Able to vividly see all your old teammates dissipating on the battle field in Wakanda. All their dust simply floating away like they had never existed. The sound of the purple alien’s gauntlet snapping haunted your memory. Distant. Yet still the most powerful noise you had ever heard.

“You can ask Bucky. He got blipped on the battlefield,” you gestured towards him.

Pulling his attention away from his newfound rival. Oceanic eyes looking at you with contorted brows. A little confused. Only having been half listening to your conversation. You widened your eyes at him realizing that he had not been paying attention.

“The Blip..? In Wakanda,” you whispered with a smile that tried to hide your laugh.

“OH! Right, sorry,” Bucky ran his hand over his hair, “It was like one minute you were here then you were gone. Returning five years later was difficult. The world had changed, almost moved on from all of us. Everyone I knew had… changed.”

“That’s why this Gala is so important. Half our population disappeared and reappeared. Coming back to their homes being taken over. All their stuff discarded somewhere that they were forced to find, if it hadn’t been thrown away. We’re raising money so these people can get back to normal,” you said patting your hand on Bucky’s leg. Smiling at him.

John coughed trying to hide his anger. Unknowingly pulling all eight eyes on him. Causing all of you to think he was interjecting in some way. You raised a brow questioning him.

“Got something you wanna add, Walker?” Bucky challenged him.

“Uh— no. Nope. Blip was bad. You guys saved the world from a giant purple alien-guy and his army. We’re all impressed,” jealousy spat from him like venom.

Tension returned between you. The air growing tight in the small back of the limousine. John’s unbothered attitude making your stomach churn a little. Aware there had to be something else going on with him. Normally, he would not act this way when such a serious topic was brought up. You stared at him blankly. Causing the realization of what he said to wash over him. Repositioning himself so that his hands were folded in his lap, leaning himself forward a bit.

“Jesus,” Yelena whispered to Alexei. Looking to you and bouncing her eyes wide for a moment.

It was hard for you to look at John now. Awkwardness building a wall between you. Focusing your attention back to Bucky, voice hardly above a whisper. Quizzing him on statistics about the Blip. He was a Congressman after all, he needed to be able to answer any and all questions they could possibly ask him. Growing a little smug as he continued to remember each number down to the decimal. Smiling as the two of you laughed about an old joke from the days of the Avengers.

Flexing of metal fingers caught your attention.

“Your arm bothering you?” you looked down to his palm.

Fingers expanding and retracting repeatedly. Soft hum of mechanical noises meeting your ears. The black and gold digits ceased their movements at your question.

“Yeah. It’s all good. Just sometimes like to move ‘em,” Bucky’s skin between his eyebrows creased. Offering his hand to you, “Wanna feel?”

Of course you were not going to pass up an opportunity to take a closer look at some foreign tech. Gifted to him from the late Prince of Wakanda. His sister, the new Black Panther, being the tech whizz of the two of them. Shuri was gifted beyond your comprehension, so any chance to check out her work was like a gift to you. Your fingers traced the cool vibranium. Amazed by how similar it was to a real arm.

John swore he could have pulled a gun on the former Winter Soldier. Your words bleeding into a muffled hum. Only able to watch how you leaned over his lap, guiding his arm in each and every direction. Touching him. Over and over again. Each tap of nails or soft rub of fingertips had his teeth grinding.

All of you casually chatted the rest of the ride. John sat with his eyes closed. Eyebrows upturned as he tried to steady his breathing. His leg bouncing up and down as an outlet for everything he was feeling. Replaying the moment prior. Punishing himself for how he acted. It was what he deserved.

The bounce of his leg caught your attention. Eyes quickly looking to his face. The outline of his locked jaw and furrowed brows met you. Deep in thought. He was isolating himself. This was how he dealt with his emotions. Pushing everyone and everything away. Dwelling on all the bad.

You softly flattened your hand on his knee. Your thumb rubbing circles into the expensive fabric. His eyes shot open, looking at your manicured nails splayed across him. Peeking over to see your side profile. Smiling as you talked to Alexei about Steve Rogers. Your other hand wildly gesturing to emphasize your point. Not even giving John a sideways glance.

It annoyed him slightly. The casualty in which you knew how to calm him down. Ground him when he needed it. The way you smiled and it showed off your beautiful teeth. Gracing the others with the pleasure of seeing it in its entirety. Not even letting him get a look. Yet it was him who you rested your hand on. His body you had previously pressed your weight into. It was all a little confusing, which is what got under John’s skin.

The limousine halted to a stop. Caught in a line of traffic, every other vehicle seemingly arrived at the same time. You looked over your shoulder at the paparazzi outside. Clicking and flashing of far too large cameras was drowned out by the talking of everyone. Thankful for the tinted windows that hid you from their view.

Alexei chuckled in anticipation, “The Avengers will be on every cover story tomorrow!”

“That might not be a good thing,” John said as he rested his chin against his knuckles. Peering out the window at everyone dressed in their finest attire. Praying that you all would not stand out like a sore thumb. Each of your public images still on thin ice with the press.

You cringed at the thought, meeting John’s eyes and giving him a closed mouth smile. Both of you turned inward towards one another. His shoulders rose in a soft shrug. Taking a deep breath before looking back out the window.

“Not all of us publicly executed someone, Walker,” Yelena said with a mischievous grin.

John’s head quickly whipped back to look at her. Scrunching his nose up as he faked a laugh. Nodding at her, then rolling his eyes. “Yeah? Well, you have more blood on your hands than I could ever manage. So,” he scoffed, waving at her.

“Don’t start,” Bucky groaned already annoyed with this.

You lovingly rolled your eyes at the bickering. Yelena loved to get under John’s skin. Easily riling him up with a mention of his family or his time as Captain America. It usually ended with him letting all his anger out on a punching bag in the training room. Or coming to your room to vent about it all.

A thick silence filled the space. All of you waiting for the door to open. Your freedom barely a few feet away. Stuck in the tin-can with everyone holding knives at each other’s throats. You continued to watch elegant women and men strut up the stairs of the venue. Posing for pictures with their designer purses and shoes. Almost feeling inferior to the rich upper crusts.

“I’m nervous,” you closed the small gap between you and John so you could whisper into his ear.

“Yeah?” cerulean eyes looked into yours, voice low so the others could not hear.

You sighed as you nodded. Lips piercing together as you tried not to let yourself get overwhelmed. Being thrown into the spotlight was one of the most difficult adjustments of your life. Having to ignore every headline and article.

“You know how they like to talk about me in the news,” you fidgeted with one of the bangles on your wrist.

And he did know. Every chance they got, there was a new article about your personal life. Spotted at a coffee shop, walking in the park, getting lunch with an old friend. It all somehow circled back to you being, what they would call, a ‘temptress.’ You were never allowed to have casual relations with anyone. Platonic luncheons being misconstrued as another blossoming romance for you. Or worse, you sleeping around. That was the stories they liked to run most.

It all overshadowed your abilities as a hero. You could usually ignore it. But when you would walk down the streets and see magazine covers and newspaper headlines all covering where you had went to dinner the night before, it made you sick. Unsure why you had been their target so often. You were a competent fighter. Trained by S.H.I.E.L.D. and having spent some time in Wakanda learning their battle methods. Not including your intellect for building suits and weapons.

Yet somehow it was always about the newest person you were spotted with.

John hated the way your frown would tug your lips down after another story broke. People were not exactly supportive of the New Avengers. Memes and blogs dedicated to how big of a joke you all were. Forcing you all to grow tough skin. It did not change the way John’s heart would break when he saw you teary eyed sitting on one of the couches. Phone held in your hand as you scrolled through another article. Reminding him of how he had been. Falling down the rabbit hole of self hatred. He would do whatever he could to make you feel better. Sitting down beside you to show you some old video that he had found funny in his first years of basic training. Or asking if you had seen some movie or heard a new song. Anything to distract you from wallowing. Loving the way you would try and hide your laugh. Tucking your face into his shoulder as you leaned into him.

John’s hand patted your thigh. Igniting your flesh as your heart skipped a beat. Doeing your eyes up at him inquisitively. A knowing look behind his eyes accompanying the soft curve of his lip, “I also know that they’re a bunch of assholes.”

Your cheeks beamed. Smiling at him widely. This was the John you knew. Kind, knowing exactly how to make you smile. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach.

The door opened with a loud click. The loud sound of the press and attendees met your ears. Shuttering of cameras, loud questions from news reporters, all wrapped in a bow of smooth jazz blaring from some speakers.

Your chest tightened. Caging you in with your anxieties. Watching as your teammates all began out like this was a normal experience. All of them standing from their seats. It was like your feet were glued to the floor. Hands locked together as you watched Alexei and Yelena exit first. The Red Guardian shouting loudly in excitement as he waved to each camera. Yelena keeping a cool head as she always did. Waving nonchalantly to the paparazzi as they called her name.

Your time with the Avengers had not been like this. Flaunting around, feeling like celebrities on a red carpet. You were a behind the scenes type. Able to stay in the shadows unless needed out in the field. Never being the one they sent to talk to news outlets. Only tagging along to big headline events on rare occasion.

Your breath was teetering. Blinking over and over trying to will yourself to get up. The lights shining in through the door blurred. Your ears rang. Able to see the dark outline of someone offering a hand out to you. Taking it before your eyes fully refocused. Dazed as you were led out onto the steps of the venue. Able to switch into a smile as fast as your feet hit the ground. Waving with your free hand to the press as the hand remained in yours. Finally looking to see whose name would be next to yours on the newspaper tomorrow.

Navy blue suit jacket spanning across a wide back. Confidence exuding from the Super Soldier who helped you out. A smile that gleamed in the reflection of spotlights. Strawberry blonde locks and beard adorning his head.

John Walker.

It was like time slowed down when he looked over his shoulder at you. Everything around you disappeared. Cerulean eyes sparkling as they met yours. Pearly whites on display. The softest shade of pink washed over his cheeks. Swearing he had never looked so handsome. For a moment it was like he was your knight in shining armor. Like Cinderella running away from the ball, except in the hands of her suitor.

The feeling of a hand on your other wrist distracted you. Pulling you out of John’s grasp. Contorting your brows as you turned to see who had interrupted you.

Valentina.

Dragging you over to be standing with Bucky. He was already being questioned by several reporters. Microphones shoved in his face. Stern exterior never cracking for a minute. Practically being shoved into his shoulder, deep blue eyes looking over to you with a smile and soft ‘hi.’ Your hand flattened against his bicep trying to not fall in front of so many people. Bucky instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you stand. Metal fingers hugged the curve of your hip. Returning his smile with a giggle to hide how truly embarrassed you were.

Every set of eyes on you widened. For the first time, it was like all the chatter subsided. Looking around you to see all the attention on you. Feeling like you could retreat into a shell and hide forever. Your face heated up as you looked to Bucky for an answer.

“Like I was saying,” Bucky redirected to the previous question he had been asked, “Homelessness in the case of citizens who were blipped is a serious epidemic. We are working on finding solutions to this longstanding issue.”

A spark of pride shot through you. You had quizzed him well, he really did know how to handle himself. Even if he was conventionally not a good public speaker.

“And what about you, Miss Y/N?”

You took a deep breath, “The Blip really left us in a confusing state. Not only socially but economically. We are striving towards solutions that work for all parties involved.”

The reporters thanked you both as Bucky raised a hand to excuse you both. Walking along the roped in section. Posing for a handful of pictures. Waving to some people who were holding New Avengers signs. Surprised to see any kind of positive outlook on your team.

“You didn’t have to throw yourself at me to get my attention,” Bucky smirked keeping his facade steady for the cameras.

You snorted, “I didn’t. Valentina dragged me over to you.”

“That’s what I’d say too,” he leaned to whisper in your ear.

You laughed, swatting at his chest. Unfortunately aware of the photo opportunities you were giving the crowd. Stiffening your posture to try and not seem so comfortable with the Congressman. Knowing that laugh you have would haunt you for the next few weeks. Scanning the area for any sign of John. Unable to find his slicked back hair anywhere in the crowd. Able to see the entrance finally. Relief allowed your shoulders to sag. He had to be inside.

You were flagged down by a young, male reporter. Excusing yourself from Bucky, who was being pulled to a reporter on the opposite side. You smiled and greeted the man. Shocked by the lack of video camera in his partner’s hands. Only a photography camera. Snapping pictures of you as you walked over.

“Miss Y/N,” he began, cockiness dripping from his demeanor, “May I say, you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You nodded, fisting your dress in your hands, “Thank you.”

“Must be hard to be the most attractive girl on your team.”

Your stomach churned. Brows pushing together for only a second, not allowing his cameraman to capture that expression on you.

“I’m not sure I understand—“

“Well, you get out of the limousine with our former Captain America. Just to be seen in the arms of Congressman Barnes. Do you plan on leaving the event with the Red Guardian?”

What a fucking prick.

Looking down at the pin on his lapel. Dawning on you where you had seen the name before. A podcast. Ran by the two men in front of you. The name being some shitty misogynistic ‘joke’ about female heroes. Exclusively discussing female heroes and their personal lives. Shaming and harassing women for years.

You bit the inside of your cheek, not allowing your expression to change. Realizing he had a microphone next to the pin. Must have been live streaming an episode.

“Thanks for the question,” you waved him off, walking away faster than you had approached.

“Oh, come on! Smile a little, honey!”

You scoffed, not turning to give him a second glance. Holding your dress up as you cascaded up the stairs. Reaching the top and seeing Yelena. She was leaned back against one of the pillars, talking to someone you could not see. You rushed over to her. Your hand resting on her shoulder as you greeted her. Introducing yourself to the woman she was talking to. Young, had to be new to college. She was writing a paper on the struggles of female heroes in todays society.

“Thank God I found you,” you sighed, hands resting on your hips with wide eyes. Cupping your hand around Yelena’s ear so you could whisper, “Podcast bro is here.”

Yelena gagged with a laugh. It made you feel a thousand pounds lighter. Laughing right alongside her. She was someone who understood your struggles the way other’s could not always. A certain level of understanding between girls.

“You should send Alexei down to him,” Yelena grinned.

“Oh my God,” you smirked, covering your mouth with your hand as you leaned to laugh.

“I saw all the boys go inside,” Yelena gestured with her pointer finger, “I’ll be in shortly.”

You nodded, shaking the young girl’s hand before waving goodbye to Yelena. Wishing her good luck with the paper. Heading inside to watch over the crowd below. Shocked by the sheer amount of people inside. Shoulder to shoulder. Glasses of champagne pinched between every set of fingers. Soft ballroom music played, some people danced in the center. A stylized number that had them all moving together perfectly.

A man with a tray passed by you, offering a glass to you. Accepting it with a ‘thank you’. Still feeling so out of place with the suits. An echoing belly laugh caught your attention, able to recognize it anywhere. Walking up to the old porcelain railing. Finding Alexei’s crimson suit standing alongside several other men. Recognizing Bucky’s dark hair from the balcony you stood upon. Smiling when Alexei grabbed one of the men by their shoulder harder than he probably should have.

Bucky stood with his hands in his pockets. Stiff posture and cautious eyes scanning the room. Looking up catching you, doing a double take to make sure he was seeing you correctly. Waving up at you. Catching Alexei’s attention. Pointing at you and shouting your name. It made your face flush, embarrassing you as if he was your own father. You waved with a bright smile down at the group who now all were looking at you.

While it was nice to get your eyes on most of your teammates, there was still one missing. You began to circle the upper floor, no sign of the blonde soldier. Growing a bit flustered. Making sure to hide it behind a smile. Sharing pleasantries with each person you made eye contact with.

Preparing to give up. Assuming he must have snuck off somewhere so that he did not have to be seen. Deciding you would just head down and join Bucky and Alexei.

Until a breathy voice said your name. Turning on your heel to see John, hair a little disheveled and breathing a little heavy. Like he had been running. You immediately smiled widely. Almost giddy to see him. You walked to meet him halfway.

“Hi,” you said unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“Hey,” he tried to catch his breath.

John flexed his fist. Stretching out his fingers. Looking around for your other teammates. Surprised he did not find Bucky riding your coattail. "Where is everybody?"

"Yelena's outside. Alexei and Bucky are making friends on the dance floor," you grinned, motioning behind you with your thumb.

"And you're..?"

"Hiding from paparazzi," you joked.

He nodded, hands resting on his hips, "Guess I'm doing the same."

Truly, John felt relieved that you were alone. Expecting Bucky to be making the moves on you. After the look he gave him when his hand wrapped on your waist, all bets were off. Chivalry being the last thing on his mind from that moment onward. He had to get some air. Storming off to the side of the building. Pushing past each and every reporter that questioned him. Hands tethering through his hair as he squatted against the cold exterior. Needing to calm down before he made a fool of himself and the entire team. Putting himself back to the moment you got out of the limousine together. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him. Like he was the hero in your own personal fairytale. No one had looked at him like that in so long.

Finally able to take a real breath. Standing up and composing himself. Flattening down his coat and pants. Starting to round the corner when he heard your voice. Peeking around the corner to see you being questioned by a young man. Admiring the way you composed yourself, until he heard that stupid fucking question come from the boy. Not fully convinced he had heard him correctly. Watching the way you tensed up and your face flushed. Stammering out a question before he continued. Insinuating things about you that simply were not true. The look in your eyes as you all but ran from the idiots set John off.

Waiting until the two boys stepped away snickering to act. The two of them taking hits of their small vapes before John grabbed them by their collars. Shrieking like their entire lives flashed before their eyes. Confused and scared. John made sure to rip the two small microphones off their lapels and smash them into the concrete. The boys not recognizing the man whose hands were pinning them up against the wall at first. Curses falling from their mouths over and over. John's eyes lasered into them. Ready to strike.

"You guys like picking on pretty girls?"

The two boys choked, hands clawing and prying at John's arms. Holding them firmly up in the air.

"H-Holy shit. Bro, it's John Walker," the camera boy strained and swatted at his partner.

John looked between them, pulling forward to slam them back once more, "Answer the fucking question!"

"Jesus Christ, dude! You're, like, the exact type of guy we do the show for!"

That only enraged him more. His public image really had gone completely down the drain. Losing all credibility he had as the residential good boy on the block. Painted a monster and complete asshole to the public. If they were going to see him that way, he might as well give them a reason to.

"You don't know a thing about me," John all but growled.

"Oh, I get it," the cocky main man started, "Your little girlfriend send you over here? Thought she was plenty capable to fight her own fights. Poor Y/N, needing her junior varsity boy-toy to come save her from the mean men on the internet," he mocked John.

John stared at them. His head falling forward as he released his grip slowly on the two of them. Their feet met the ground, but they were frozen. John's shoulders bounced as he laughed. Confusing them further. Giving them a moment to really think they had won.

"Um, dude—"

John reared back and punched the main boy in the mouth. Knocking him to the ground. Swiftly repeating the action on the camera man. The two boys laid unconscious on the ground. John shook his fist before straightening his coat. Fixing his appearance before returning to the event.

" 'm just happy I finally caught up with you," John smiled.

"Me too. I'm feeling a little out of my element here," you tried to hide your nerves.

"And about earlier—"

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet Congressman Gary," Bucky's voice interrupted.

Quick to plaster on your most convincing smile. Extending your hand out to him, "It's a pleasure, Congressman."

"Please, the pleasure is mine," he smiled.

"John F. Walker," he stepped forward offering his hand to the politician, "Former Captain America."

"Oh, I know who you are, son," his tone reeked of disdain.

It was like a shot directly through John's chest. Overtly aware of the way everyone here perceived him. Not expecting such blatant disrespect, especially from a member of Congress. In the country he gave everything to defend. Just for them to kick him to the curb when he did something they did not approve of. Moreso something that made their public image look bad.

You tapped your fingers discreetly along John's palm to let him know that what the man had said was not okay. At least he would always have you on his side.

"Congressman Gary has invited the two of us down to his table," Bucky explained, "Care to join us?"

"Oh! Uh—" you looked to John whose brows were upturned slightly, "Well, I... What about—"

"She'd love to, Buck," John answered for you, his hand splaying along your lower back. Urging you forward into the arms of his enemy. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you looked up at John. Silently questioning why he would do this.

John knew it was important to you to get your name and reputation cleared. Conversing with a Congressman certainly had to give you some form of credibility that outshined the tabloids. Even if it meant he was practically waving a white flag to Bucky.

"I think she can answer for herself, Walker," Bucky quipped monotonous.

John glared at him. Anger coursing through his veins. Ready to settle things with the older soldier outside.

"John—"

He leaned down so he could whisper in your ear, "It's okay. I know this is important for you. Make the most of it. We can catch up later, sweetheart."

Addition of the pet name caused your face to flush. Reluctantly being pulled away by Bucky. Looking back at John. He resembled an abandoned puppy. Blue eyes wide and pleading with you to come running back into his arms. Tucking his hands into his pockets as the forced smile faded from his face. Walking away from where you were being led. Losing sight of him in the crowds of people.

Refocusing your view forward. Bucky led you through the crowds of people effortlessly. Offering you his hand to assist you down the stairs. Smiling as you mumbled to yourself with each step. Coaching yourself through keeping balance.

The table full of bureaucrats narrowed in your vision. All their eyes looking to you and Bucky. He introduced you, leading to an abundance of handshakes and pleasantries. Pulling the vacant chair out for you, pushing you in. Taking the seat directly beside you.

It felt like a million years. Answering question after question. Discussion after discussion. The Adamantium Conflict. The Housing Crisis. Dimensional Rifts. Reminding yourself that you were representing all your fellow Thunderbolts*. Making sure you answered with dignity and grace. Catching Bucky’s eyes throughout the conversations. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he intently listened to you.

Eventually, the conversation fizzled out. Politicians discussing their vacation homes and house boats. Completely out of touch with the issues at hand. Unsurprising to you.

You scanned the room for your other teammates. Alexei was sharing war stories with a group of elderly veterans. Sharing how different things seemed from his point of view. Idealizing the States in a way. Yelena was off speaking highly of her late sister. Making sure to keep her legacy alive, she saved the world after all. And, of course, Bucky beside you.

John was no where to be found. It crossed your mind that he may have left. Everyone had been rather cruel to him tonight, you could not blame him if he did not want to stay around.

You clicked your nails on the table. Lost completely in thought, finally able to attempt at a clear head. Looking around at all the bright lights and dazzling decor. Bucky’s hand rested on yours, pulling your attention to him.

“I could listen to you talk for hours,” Bucky admitted.

Your face flushed, “Thank you.”

You had known Bucky longer than your other Teammates. Flirtatious nature was nothing new to him; he was a playboy back before he got sent off to war. Causing you to assume it was just how he played with you. Never considering his advances were legitimate. Because who didn’t he flirt with?

Hooded blue eyes stared into yours. Like looking into the ocean during a storm. Dark hair and beard accenting his lighter features perfectly. Years of trauma and experience highlighting his forehead and eyes with their roadmap. He was gorgeous.

But something was not right to you.

Scooting of chairs behind you caught your attention. Turning to see all the congressmen extending hands out to their dates and escorting them to the dance floor. Each of them taking a waltz position and gracefully stepping to the music.

So you watched as elegant attendees danced together. Long dresses cascading atop of the porcelain. Heels clicking on the polished floor. Slow strum of the live band calmed you. One of the blue suits causing you to day dream. Imagining you and John centered on the floor. His hand on your hip as you danced together. Losing yourself in his skyline eyes. Everyone around you fading away. Soft smile painting his face as he held eye contact with you. Dipping you and finally—

“Care to join me?”

Bucky had rose from his chair with a hand extended out to you. You blinked.

Cameras shuttered.

Your public image.

“Of course,” you happily accepted. Walking hand and hand out to the middle of the dance floor. One of your hands on his shoulder and the other held in his. His other hand rested on your waist. All eyes were on the two Avengers. Sharing a formal dance so publicly.

Bucky led you. Stepping perfectly in time with the slow, loving music. You analyzed his face. Soft scars decorating his forehead and cheeks. Clearly from his years as the Winter Soldier. The mix of greying hairs in his beard made you grin. Sometimes you forgot just how old he truly was.

“Lots of people watching us tonight,” Bucky’s voice was low. Speaking through his teeth so no lingering eyes could decipher his words.

“I know,” you looked around to see almost every table staring and whispering. Unable to hear their words due to the speakers next to your ears. Able to read their expressions, knowing these journalists would have a heyday.

“Does it make you nervous?”

You whipped your head back to him. Eyebrows knitting for a moment, “Nothing makes me nervous.”

Your guard was up suddenly. Not wanting to show any sign of weakness to your team leader. Easier to lie than be vulnerable.

Bucky chuckled. Eyes squinting up as he smiled.

You glared at him.

He leaned in so that his lips ghosted against your ear, “Do I make you nervous?”

Your bodies were pressed perfectly together. The hand that had been on his shoulder now splayed along his broad back. Heat radiated off your face. Close proximity and the way his breath fanned along your neck had your head fuzzy. His fingertips dug into your lower back with his question. Awaiting some form of a response. Satisfied when you gasped lowly.

“Of course not,” you whispered back.

Bucky pulled back grinning. Spinning you when the music kicked up. You tried to understand him. His intentions were not clear. Unsure if this was longing or lust. Not liking the conclusion you had jumped to.

“What’s your game here, Congressman Barnes?” your voice was low and sultry. Teasing trying to get his facade to break.

Suddenly, he dipped you backwards. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. Eyes sparkling with the chandelier above.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he barely said.

There was an eruption of clapping when the song ending. Making you abundantly aware of the spectacle you had been giving. Not even noticing that the dance floor was empty other than the two of you. Encased in a circle of Bucky’s fellow politicians.

Your throat tightened. The room closing in around you as you caught the eyes of each individual person. Some confused, some awestruck, some disgusted. It was all so overwhelming.

Bucky pulled your hand up to his mouth. Featherlight lips planted themselves there. Your eyes widened as you stared at him. Ears slowly beginning to ring from embarrassment. Cameras flashes. A pit formed in your stomach.

This was all wrong.

Valentina finally met the two of you on the floor. Applauding and laughing. Smile spanning from ear to ear as she spoke to the press before either of you got the chance. You looked around the room as Val smiled for the camera. Shoulders heaving with each deep breath you took. Sweat beaming along your neck and down your back.

Catching a familiar set of eyes.

Everything around you slowed. All air being punched out of your lungs. His face was scalding red. Standing out harshly against his navy blue suit. Brows laying harshly across his eyes as he stared at you. Cold. Distant. Alarming.

John had witnessed the whole thing. Down to the finer details. The way Bucky’s hands held onto you like you belonged to him. How you followed his every move and your bodies looked so perfect pressed together. A hole forming in his chest. Stomach knotting.

This was wrong.

Your eyes welled up immediately. How could you let this all happen? You started over to him when Valentina grabbed you by the wrist. You shook your head as you watched John disappear out a side door. The slam causing all the sound to return to you. Bombarded with questions and microphones. Bucky’s arm wrapped loosely around you like before. It was all too much for you to fake happiness. Only able to fight back tears and a broken voice.

How did this happen?

John stormed into a far too tall corridor a few halls down from the main floor. Screaming louder than he had in some time. Punching out a piece of a concrete pillar. Every inch of his body was shaking. Veins on his neck bulging as he strained. He was a fool. Practically handing you over to Bucky just for such a grand spectacle to be made.

Things used to be easy for him. High School Sweethearts with Olivia. A beautiful son he loved dearly. High ranking in the military. Being given the honor of becoming the new Captain America.

It was all ripped from him. Claw marks left in his wake. Achievements. Accolades. Friends. Family. Respect. All gone. His name was a blotch on any and every headline. Causing more people disgust than faith.

He was unsure how much more he could handle. Ready to give it all up until the Thunderbolts* saved him. Finally finding people who saw him as a normal, breathing human being. Flaws and past mistakes not damning to everyone. Only a small part of what made him John Walker. Able to find comfort and validation from the New Avengers. Befriending Bob Reynolds, who he lovingly called ‘Bobby’, bonding with Alexei over shared recipes and cooking tips, razzing back and forth with Ava and Yelena; it had became a family to him.

Especially with you.

Knowing he could fall into your arms at any moment. You were like the warm light from inside when he had been locked out in the cold. Welcoming him with a warm embrace. There was no sign of uncertainty or judgement from you. Even when he would lie and puff his chest to seem bigger and tougher than he was emotionally. Or when you two would get agitated and begin name calling. Slowly beginning to laugh as the you came up with a stupid sounding insult. Unable to remain angry at each other for too long. You liked him for him. When he looked at you, he knew where his home was. Even if neither of you were ever willing to admit it.

And maybe it was all one sided. He was coming to terms with that. Accepting a life where he had to watch from afar as Bucky got the girl of his dreams. Got to hold you every night. Wake up next to you each morning. Simply getting the privilege to be yours.

No.

He could not accept this. Not like this. Forehead pressed into the column, an arm rested above his head. Teeth grinding together as he tried to regain composure. Faint and distant voices alerted him from above. Steadying his breathing as to not give away his cover. Focusing his ears to understand them.

"Didn't you hear? Barnes and Y/L/N are an item," one woman gossiped to her friend. A labored gasp escaping the other woman. Giggling together.

"No!"

"Saw the headline the other day. Guess tonight confirms it," she sipped her drink.

"Sure does like to get around, doesn't she? Thought she had settled down with one of those older Avengers."

John's jaw locked. Fists bruising at his sides. Nails almost breaking the skin in his palm. Blood boiling below the surface. Nostrils flaring with his concentrated breaths. Like a bull having a red flag waved before him. If he had to hear one more stranger utter your name he swore he would lose his mind. Lip twitching as the two women walked off somewhere, voices carrying with them.

You were the topic of all discussion tonight.

Rage was overflowing from him. All these strangers discussing his girl. Acting as if they knew you at all. Painting you as some villain amongst heroes. His teeth were clamped so tight that it was shocking one had not busted yet. Huffing like a bull about to charge. His chest ached. Molten hot blood pumped through his veins as he spiraled with each new thought that entered his mind.

Your hands on Bucky’s chest. Sultry smiles on both your faces. Everyone around you approving and celebrating. Bucky’s hands on your waist and back. Lips nearing in—

“FUCK—“ John punched the same pillar. Losing himself to his anger. Hands scraping against his scalp as he ruffled his own hair. Palm slamming repeatedly against his temple trying to stop the thoughts that intruded him.

This was not going to happen.

Luckily, the crowd around you had died down. Your hands folded neatly in front of you as you stood off to the side. Leaned against a wall as you watched your teammates discuss things with politicians and news outlets. Maybe they would say something that got this target off your back. Sick and tired of being the center of attention.

Your opportunity was here. You could sneak off, even if it was just for a moment. Fresh air calling your name like a siren to a sailor. Taking one final look around the room before slowing backing to meet the door. Discretely escaping into the big empty corridor. Fingers flexing at your sides as you took multiple deep breaths. Looking up at the windows and how the moon shined down on you.

Silence.

Peaceful.

You closed your eyes and flattened a hand over your chest. Feeling the low thump of your heartbeat. Clearing your mind of all the struggles of the evening.

Except one.

John. The pain on his face when the paparazzi and crowds flooded you and Bucky. How quickly he fled from you. It made you nauseous.

Regretting not confessing your feelings to him before tonight. Maybe then all of this would not have been so misconstrued. At the end of the day, you had no interest in a relationship with Bucky. He was charming and would make a wonderful husband… for someone other than you.

John was all you wanted.

And you wish you had told him before now.

The door beside you creaked. Composing yourself so that whoever was going to enter would not see how you were breaking.

A firm grasp pulled you into the vacant hallway. Your back scuffing against the cold porcelain wall. Air escaping your lungs as you grunted from the sheer force. Opening your eyes to see cerulean bulbs staring at you. Brows knitted so tightly together they could have been one.

Sound of your heartbeat thumped against your eardrums. Only able to take small quick breaths, lungs never refilling. Bruising fingertips dug into your shoulders. Keeping you still.

“J-John…?”

Predatory eyes glued into yours. Feeling like a bunny trapped in the jaws of a coyote. Teeth sinking further until you were paralyzed. Knowing any second it would all be over. Fear pumped through your veins in the meantime.

John’s head cocked slowly to the side. Scanning trained eyes down your figure. Soft twitch of his upper lip barely noticeable. Sweat began to form along your brow. Swallowing your dry mouth. Bottom lip quivering as you tried to speak.

His hand came up to caress your jaw. Fingers splaying softly against the side of your jugular. Burning from his touch. Thumb padding at your lip. Dragging it down with his digit. Gently rubbing circles into your jaw with it afterward.

“Everyone’s favorite girl tonight,” his voice was raspy and low.

“Wh-what?”

“All these eyes. All over you. Little Miss Popular,” he smiled, more so resembling a snarl.

You rested your head against the wall behind you, angling your chin so that you could hold eye contact. His pupils were like black holes. Sucking you in, and there was no getting away from him.

"I've been trying to be with you all night," you admitted coyly.

"Barnes keeps taking you from me," he breathed. Jealousy spitting from him like venom. His stern eyes analyzed your reaction. Slight twitch of your eyebrow irritating him.

“You liked it, didn’t you?”

Your stomach flipped, “John—“

“Liked having two guys fight over you,” his hand outlined your side, leading down to your hip, “Getting to be the center of attention tonight. Able to make two super soldiers crumble with a simple flutter of your lashes. Makes you feel real powerful, doesn’t it?”

This was a side of him you had never seen. Overtaken by jealousy for your colleague. Interrogating you like you were a foreign enemy. Intimidating glare locked onto your face.

And you would be lying if you said it did not have every inch of you tingling. Your head was spinning. Musky cologne overwhelming your nostrils. Wanting to touch him. To pull him flush against your body, just to say you could feel him. You mouthed words that could not form. Not sure exactly what he wanted from you like this.

His nose was narrowing in on yours. Lips barely separated as you breathed the same air. Trying to stay as quiet as possible. Almost too afraid to speak and run the other off. The silence was thick. Suffocating you. John’s fingertips dug into your hip, the other hand resting against the wall next to your head.

“Want me to give you back to him?”

You shook your head immediately, “I want you…”

John groaned, eyes squinting shut for a moment. His forehead falling against yours as his lip quivered. Labored breaths rolling throughout his torso.

“Say it again,” John grumbled, fingers bruising your skin.

“I don’t want Bucky. John… I want you,” you said a little more confident. Hands finally mustering the courage to touch him. Flattening against his chest, roaming every inch of his upper half. Fingertips dancing against his chest hair peaking out of his collar.

John’s hand cupped your cheek. Instinctively leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. A low whimper bubbling in the back of your throat. Driving John mad. The feeling of your hands all over him, the way you gave in so easily to his touch, how your voice was lined with desperation; he needed you more than ever.

His head tilted slightly. Slowly and gently pressing his lips to yours. Sparks ignited deep within your guts. Lips locking into yours like they were made for one another. Your arms snaked around his shoulders, folding hands over the back of his neck. His tongue prodded at your lips, testing the waters. You allowed him access as you shifted to meet his lips. Lapping into your mouth as if you were his last meal. Trying to get every last taste on his tongue.

His hands roamed down your back, splaying along your spine and pushing you against his front. Able to feel the stiffening outline at his groin. It heated up your skin, face flushing entirely at the idea. Lips ventured down your throat. Kissing and experimenting with teeth along your pulse. You gasped softly when one of his canines grazed you. Wanting to mark you as his. Leave hickeys and bite marks all where anyone and everyone could see. Especially Congressman Barnes. Teach him to stay away from you.

But he knew better. Knew that would only cause more rumors to spiral, something he could not put on you. He supposed he could wait until he got you alone. Leave some serious marking on your chest. A secret only the two of you would know.

Tapping of shoes against linoleum causes you both to jump. They were above you. Two pairs. Heavier than the ones John had previously heard. Their deeper voices echoed throughout the vacant room. John quickly planted his hand over your mouth. Raising his other finger to his mouth to make sure you would stay quiet. Taking control of the situation. It made your core pulse. His eyes looked upward like it helped him focus on their voices.

“Barnes and Y/L/N. Who would have thought,” one of the men muttered.

“I don’t care. I’m just relieved this is going to take all the heat off the Gala’s back. We’ll be lucky if those two boys don’t make this event the joke of the year,” the other replied.

John’s eyes peered to yours. Jealousy brewing behind his irises. You widened your eyes at him, shrugging.

“It’s probably a good thing someone finally kicked their asses. I don’t even know why they would give those two bozos a media pass. All they do is sexually harass women,” the first man sighed.

John blinked rapidly. His head lowering for a moment. Almost like he was trying to come up with a cover.

You arched your eyebrows at him. Guilt clear on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Woman haters and all that. Who isn’t?” their voices carried away. Remaining in the position John had you held in waiting until they were completely gone. No more footsteps. No more chattering.

John pulled his hand away from your mouth. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you. You smirked knowingly, “John…”

He gritted his teeth as he scoffed. Rolling his eyes over exaggerated. Palming against his hair as he rolled his shoulders. Blown pupils looking into yours. Quickly tucking his face back against your neck.

“I heard what they said to you. Had to teach them a lesson,” he grumbled finishing his sentence with a kiss.

Heat bloomed in your chest. The fact he had taken care of those shitty podcast bros just because they disrespected you. Almost like an ownership over you. As badly as you needed to scold him in this moment, you were flattered. Your protector.

John hooked one of his hands around the back of your thigh. Arching it around his waist as he inhaled deeply. Taking in the smell of you like he would possibly forget it one day. Stiffened member rested against your core. Layers of clothing making it a little more difficult to feel, but he was there. One of your hands tangled in the back of his hair. Whispering sweet little moans into his ear.

You were driving him absolutely insane. His restraint was slipping with each breathless sigh in his ear. Each swipe of his tongue against your collar. How perfectly your bodies felt pressed together. He had waited so long for you, longer than he was ever willing to wait before. It was all about to crumble.

His hand roamed under your dress. Skillful fingertips finding the band of your panties, tugging at it. Rimming the waistline, barely dipping his fingers beneath. Hungry lips traveled up your throat, resting open on the sensitive spot right below your ear. Huffing loudly like all the air had been punched out of him.

“Need you,” was all he could force out. Rolling his hips against your core. Chasing the feeling of your warmth. You cracked out a moan. Gingerly, he pressed kisses along your jawline, “Tell me you need me too.”

It was almost desperate. His insecurities showing for barely a moment. Wanting validation. Needing to hear you say how badly you needed him. Vindicating all his actions tonight. His anger. Jealousy. Loss of control.

“I need you, but… we can’t… not here,” you sighed, one hand clawing against his back muscles.

“I’ll run back to that goddamn tower with you in my arms if it means I can have you,” John admitted.

“We can catch a cab,” you suggested instead. The implication that he was this wound up had your head fuzzy. John pulled back to meet your gaze. Smiling widely.

In a flash, you were being dragged out the side exit. John helped you down the stairs, making sure to keep a pretty image for any wandering eyes. Walking a little funny to hide the tent that was pitching in his slacks. Walking a short distance down the street to get away from the glitz and glam of the Gala. Catching a standard yellow cab. John let you in first.

John instructed the driver of the address. Leaning back and planting his hands firmly in his lap. Something shifted when you left the highly tense environment of the banquet. Almost like neither of you would dare look at the other. Lines of streetlights would pass over each of your faces. Staring out the windows on either side of the cab. Your heart was racing. Pulse thudding against your eardrums. Your entire body was hot to the touch. It all seemed fake, maybe that was why you did not dare make eye contact. Too afraid of pushing the other away. It was intimate.

John rested his hand on the small space between your seats. Catching your attention, almost like an invitation. You grazed your fingertips over the top of his hand. Watching how he tried to look over at you without moving his head. His cheeks were red. Leg bouncing with anticipation. Your fingers wrapped around his palm, makeshift hand holding.

Goosebumps traced down his arms. Swallowing the large lump that had swollen in his throat. After harboring all these feelings for you for so long in secret, it felt fake. Never could he have believed you would reciprocate.

You shifted in the back of the cab. Scooting and closing the distance between you. John barely dared to turn his head, soft eyes meeting yours. You flattened a hand on his thigh, pushing yourself against him. Your lips trailed up his neck to his ear. Barely leaving kisses in your wake. His lip quivered. Arm snaking around you to grip onto your hip. His tongue darted out to wet his drying lips.

“Your room or mine?” you traced a finger up his thigh, landing on the place he longed for you most. Palming him slowly overtop his zipper.

His head fell backwards as he sighed. Trying to catch his breath and form a cognitive thought. His lips were parted as he attempted to think. Digits bruising into your side.

“Come on, Cap. Give me an answer,” you teased, kissing up his jaw and resting your mouth directly next to his.

John shivered.

“Keep it up and we won’t make it inside,” his voice had dropped an octave. Eyes completely black and hungry. Capturing your lips in his. His other hand coming up to grasp your face, holding you in place as he shifted. Guiding you onto his lap, straddling his thigh. You gasped. Friction feeling obscenely good against your core. Rolling your hips slowly. Breaking the kiss to press your forehead into his. Panting the same air between you. Trying your hardest to stay quiet. Until he bucked his leg up forcing you to rut against his strong muscle. You whined as you fell into him.

You were like two wild animals. Not caring about your driver. Not caring how desperate you seemed. Just needed friction and warmth. Wanting to be as close together as possible.

You held your breath as the vehicle stopped. Looking out the window to the front of the New Avenger’s Tower. Relieved to not see any lingering cameramen. John thanked the driver and paid before practically yanking you out.

Swiftly retreating into what would now be your safe haven. His hand was firm on your wrist. Tugging you into the elevator. His hands were on your face before he could even think. Kissing you again. Both of you giggling and smiling as he pushed you back into the wall.

“Mine,” he muttered barely audible, “All mine.”

It had you trembling. The elevator stalled and you both stiffened up. Having to prepare just in case the two remaining members of your team just so happened to be in the hallway. The doors slid open and John peeked his head out. Able to hear the speakers of the television from behind Bob’s door. Ava was no where in sight. Given, she could be basically anywhere she wanted in an instant.

He reached his hand back to you, pushing his finger to his lips as he guided you out. Both your far too fancy shoes clicked against the waxed floor. Traversing the dark hall, your end goal basically in your grasp. You both held your breath when you reached his door. Binging of the keypad made him cringe, like someone was blaring an airhorn in this silence.

The door breathed open. Giddily, John allowed you to step inside first. Making sure to lock the door behind you both. It was dark. Moonlight beaming through the far too tall transom window above his bedside. Stars barely visual from the light pollution of the city. His room was well kept. Bed made perfectly. Not a single piece of discarded clothing to be found. Not surprising for the veteran, that boot camp spirit still resided in his chest.

“Finally alone,” his voice echoed off the heightened walls. Hands outlining the curves of your figure. Coming up to grope at your breast, your back pressed perfectly against him. Greedy lips kissed up the back of your neck. You shivered.

“I’ve wanted to tear this dress off you since I first saw you today,” John growled in your ear as his hands crinkled the fabric between them. You leaned further into him, arching your ass so that it pressed firmly into his groin. His hands began to pull the zipper down your back. Exposing your bare skin to the chill of his room. Starting to push it off your shoulder when you spun around to stop him.

“Eager, eager,” you chastised with a grin.

John’s brows bounced up his forehead as he stared at your chest. Loose dress slipping to reveal more of your breast, barely teasing at your nipples.

“Can you blame me? I’ve had to watch you flaunt around all night. Rubbing your hands all over me in the limou then flirting with Bucky right in front of me? You’re a goddamn tease,” John snickered, hint of jealousy spitting with his words.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you squeezed your arms together at your front so that your breasts pressed together, faming ignorance. The fabric of your dress was barely holding on at the curve of your chest. John’s eyes could not leave the temptation. Swearing that if he stared hard enough all your clothes would fly off.

You stepped and grabbed at his suit jacket. Trailing gentle digits up it and beginning to edge it off his shoulders, “How can you call me a tease when you’re dressed like… this.”

John’s head fell to the side, sizing you up. Expression flat and eyes analytical. Shining in the reflection of the moon. Lips sealed fighting off the smile that wanted to creep across his face. Cocky eyes urging you to continued.

“Shirt unbuttoned showing off your chest,” you opened his jacket, “Stupid fucking dog tags that you knew I’d see.”

You had made an offhand comment once about them dangling in your face as he fucked you… a joke, or atleast at the time what you thought was a joke.

John shedded the overcoat into the floor. Muscles bulging against the size-too-small black button down. Plush bit of his tummy pressing against the bottom buttons. Still fit, just more of a dad bod than his active days in the military. Slow and sensually, he undid his buttons. One by one. Painstakingly slow and taunting. Revealing his chest that was decorated in unkempt hair. Freckles and scars. Chain dangling along his clavicle. He looked fucking delicious.

You gawked at him. Eyes raking down and landing on the bulge in his dress pants. John snapped his fingers, pointing them to his eyes, “Your turn.”

Rushing to your core. His demanding side turning you on more than you ever thought it would. You needed him. Desire to please him filling every bit of your being. You slowly began rolling your dress off your shoulders. Just before your bare breasts were revealed, you turned your back to him. Sliding it off so that your entire back was visible. Fancy fabric pooling around your ankles, revealing the lace thong you wore.

John grunted in disapproval and arousal. Eyes raking down the curve of your ass. Beautifully accented by the lace. You looked over your shoulder at him, lip pulled between your teeth. Grin pulling at the corners of your lips. Darkened pupils locked harshly on the sides of your rear spilling out the sides of your panties. Jumping up to meet yours, eyebrow arched.

His shoes clicked against the floor as he walked over to you. Harsh hands pushed you forward. Your front slamming into the mattress. Back arching off it. Soft linens adorned its top. You were shocked at the sheer force he used against you. Calloused digits ghosted down your sides, digging firmly into the dips of your hips. A growl escaping his throat as he massaged the tender and plump flesh, “Always a fucking tease with you.”

You gasped when he planted a firm smack to your skin. The crack echoes across the walls reverberating in your core. You whined. Arching yourself further into his touch. Hands became kind suddenly when he rubbed them against the red forming mark. Outlining the whale tail at your lower back. Stretching the lace with one finger, hooking around to begin pulling it down. Losing patience and ripping them effortlessly.

Cold air fanned over your core. Causing your throbbing cunt to pulse around nothing for a moment. Needing his touch more than you realized when you felt how slick your folds were. You squirmed trying to urge him into touching you, earning yourself a click of his tongue. Your breasts pressed into the soft duvet, nipples hardening as you rubbed against it.

“What is it, baby? Wanting me to touch you? Huh?” one of his hands turned and cascaded down the curve of your cheek. Fingertips nearly touching your puffy lips. His hint of mockery had you gasping for air. Needing him.

“Please John,” you practically whimpered.

“Pretty when you’re this desperate,” he slid one finger through your lips. Coating himself in your juices as it coaxed up to your nub. Circling it slow with hardly any pressure. It was nearly painful. Your hips bucked and your lungs tightened.

You felt him lean over your back. His bare front tickling your now sweat ridden skin as he planted a kiss on your shoulder blade. Then the middle of your spine. Then your lower back. Then your ass cheek. Creeping his way down to where he wanted to devour you. Imagining you would taste like heaven wrapped in a beautiful little bow. Gifted to him like he had finally earned it. A break of some kind. His leg up on his fellow super soldier. It was finally his chance to be happy.

Abruptly, a finger pushed between your folds. Sinking itself halfway into your hole. You called out. His name a prayer that had been withheld from you for so long. It made him gleam.

His other hand flattened against your stomach, pushing you into a more angled arch. Ass in the air and pussy lips directly in front of his foaming mouth. He was drooling at the sight. Pretty and needy, just how he imagined you would be. He cooed your name before lapping into you.

Relentless assault of his tongue had you shifting and almost crying from how good he felt. His finger circled your clit as he pistoned his tongue in and out of your hole. Tasting as sweet as honey. The finest delicacy he had ever had the honor of feasting on.

And he was good. Almost too good. Like he already knew the ins-and-outs of your body. The way the slow drag of his finger made you tense and near your orgasm. It had been some time since you were able to find release. Too busy to even begin to think of touching yourself.

John was panting as he continued to work you. Groaning and huffing, sounds growing sloppy as you coated his face. Chasing your high. Walls beginning to tense up.

“You gonna cum on my tongue?”

“Uh-huh—“ you called out with a cry.

“Think Bucky could ever make you feel this good?” John growled between your legs.

You shook your head profusely. Tears welling at the corners of your eyes.

“Say it,” his deep voice boomed through your body.

“No, John. Only you,” you whined. Grinding against his mouth to get closer and closer to sweet bliss. Repeating yourself half coherently as you squinted your eyes.

“That’s it,” John praised, “Give it all to me.”

Air was a faltering force. White lights flashed behind your eyes as you came on his face. Pushing yourself back against his mouth. His beard scraping along you perfectly as he forced his tongue as deep as possible. Mumbling and groaning as you contorted around him. Thighs and calves shaking uncontrollably.

You fell forward. Huffing desperately. Difficult to control your body as it started to come down from its high. “So fucking good, John,” you whispered breathlessly.

It flowed straight to his cock. His mouth wet from devouring you. Wiping himself off on the back of his hand. Wicked grin behind you hidden. You were already drunk in ecstasy. It made him excited. The way his finger was slick with your remnant. The way his name barely mixed with your labored breaths. The way your body tingled and twitched. He was losing himself to it all.

After cleaning his finger off with his tongue, he tenderly patted your side. Understanding your brain was mush by now. Helping you flip onto your back. Hooded eyes stared up at him. Teetering on the line of slumber simply from how good it all felt.

John looked like a man who had just won a race. Shoulders rising and falling rapidly. A glint in his eyes like he was being handed over the grand prize.

You were his trophy.

How you spread your legs to welcome his body between them. Your arms barely reaching out to him, begging for his weight on yours. He snickered at your limp body. “One orgasm and you’re already begging for more?”

You puckered your bottom lip at him. Doeing your eyes up at him with a slight tilt of your head. His stomach twisted. Knowing you were one of the strongest people he knew. Knowing you took shit from no one. He had seen you kick the asses of enemies more times than he could count, just for you to smile at him right after. So to see you so small and needy below him… it awoke something inside him.

John rose to his full height. Finally throwing his dress shirt off his body. Quick to whip his belt from his hips and throw it onto the floor. His pants following suite. Cock straining against the thin elastic fabric of his boxer-briefs. Thick. Curved into his thigh. No other distinguishable features… yet.

He was fit. Thighs and stomach bulging with strong muscles. Arms an obvious muscular asset. Gorgeous. Handsome. Knowing he must have been crowned the Prom King his Senior Year. Every girl would’ve had a crush on him.

“John,” you swooned, “You are so pretty.”

His face flushed at the blunt compliment. All your previous cryptic comments and personality gone. Throwing everything on the table, damn the consequences.

He grinned as he crawled between your legs. Arms framing beside your ribcage, lips falling against your collar. “Yeah? That’s something coming from the Gala’s Favorite Avenger,” he kissed up your neck.

You were growing antsy. Needing to see, and feel, his cock. You had danced around each other for too long. Your patience was gone.

“I need it,” you whined rolling your hips upward.

John’s eyes sparkled as he looked up at you. Cockiness on his brow as he showed off perfect teeth. “Hmmm,” he started, “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Need what exactly?”

“Fuck you,” you spit.

John laughed at your break. Frustration building up inside you like pressure inside a slow cooker. Kissing you once more as he crawled higher, his nose hovering above yours.

You clawed up at him. Nails scratching down his hairy chest. His eyes fell closed, savoring the nice sting. He was enamored by any and everything you did. You were his.

“Is that what you want?”

You suddenly became embarrassed under his strong gaze. Turning your head to avoid his eyes. John chuckled, hand coming up to pinch your chin between tight fingers. Forcing you to look up at him. Smug, and ungodly handsome.

“Don’t act like you have a problem talking,” he smirked.

“I hate you,” you scowled.

“I know, I know. That’s why you’re cumming on my face, right? Why you think I’m so pretty?”

Your hands framed his face, trying to force an intimidating expression. Losing it when his eyes softened as they looked into yours. Smiling like you were the love of his life. Like there was nothing else in the world but you. And it made you shift.

Pulling his lips down to meet yours, “Please. I want to feel you, John.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” John smiled, breath fanning down your face at the confession. He was quick to force his underwear off his body. Cock lewdly smacking against his stomach. Tip flushed red and swollen, a thick vein running around it. Gorgeous. Every fucking inch of him was.

He framed his cock with his hand, hooking one of your legs around his hip. Lining up with your entrance. Looking up at your face once more, “You… want this, right?”

“More than anything,” you knocked away his insecurity.

The corner of his mouth curved for only a moment. Pushing only the head in. Steadying himself. Eyes squinting shut as his brows knitted in thought. Concentration. He would not last long inside you.

Slowly, he pulled back and pushed back in. Taking a few thrusts for you to adjust to him. His hips laid against yours. Heavy balls cradled against your ass. His jaw twitched as he stared in your eyes. You both were breathing with your mouths open.

He began a slow paced rhythm. Not long until his more aggressive urges took over. Slamming into you over and over again. His head craned to watch how your hole welcomed him over and over. Perfect. Designed by God just for him.

He lowered himself, arching an arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Hitting inside you with a new angle. Grunting in your ear with every move of hips. Kissing the side of your face, “Perfect. Fits me perfectly, Y/N.”

You whined his name. Nails close to breaking the skin of his hard back. A secondary wave approaching you, “J-John— I’m gonna cum.”

“I can feel it, baby. Me too,” he admitted. Hips growing erratic and messy. Just chasing that sweet spot inside you. The tip of his cock would bump your cervix occasionally. Sending electrical shocks throughout you. You dug your heels into his back, kissing him with a loud moan.

You came unraveled around him once more. Walls tightening around his cock, pushing him over his own edge. He groaned as he forced his hips flush with yours. Shooting white hot seed as deep into your womb as you would allow it. Almost like finally claiming you as his and his alone. Swearing there was an admission of something more that escaped under his breath. Not that you would acknowledge it.

John slumped against you. Sweat sticking your bodies together. Cock slowly softening inside your walls. The occasional aftershock causing him to want to stay inside you forever. He rolled over, pulling you with him. You both winced as he slipped out.

Comforting, familiar silence filled the space. You nuzzled up beside him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you circled a nail around his bare chest. Tickling the hair that decorated along it. Watching how his chest rapidly rose and fell. Stamina higher than a standard man, but still he got winded.

“Did you… really knock those guys out just for me?”

John’s muscles tensed up. Leaning to look at you. Your eyes were dewy and wide. Convincing yourself there had to be another reason for his actions. Maybe they said something about his ex-wife. Maybe they were dogging him for being an absent father. Maybe—

“Of course I did,” John breathed out.

Your face heated up. Eyebrows rising at his admission. Lips parting as you looked at him in awe. He smiled softly, hooded eyes gazing longingly into yours.

John leaned and placed a kiss against your head, “No one talks to my girl like that.”

You pushed yourself up to kiss his cheek.

Your knight in shining armor.

~~~

*Bonus*

Ava smirked as she watched you and John stumble into his bedroom. Trying to stay quiet, but it did not matter for her. She was able to keep quieter than anyone else. Which was how she hid at the end of the hallway where neither of you noticed her. Perks of her rather painful powers.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket, quickly texting Yelena, ‘Romeo and Juliet just got back.’

Yelena only responded with several question marks.

‘Paris still there with you?’ referring to the Shakespearean tragedy.

Yelena looked around. Realizing you had vanished after becoming the star of the dance floor. Noting how Bucky was still here, but John was not. Quickly putting the pieces of Ava’s cryptic joke together.

‘Y/N AND JOHN?!?!’ Yelena typed out with wide eyes.

Ava simply responded with a thumbs up. Giggling to herself as she phased back into the living room to text her friend until she returned. She would be lying if she said she had not been Team Walker for you.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know I went heavy into detail with this one, but I just love the idea of two guys fighter over Reader when she only has feelings for one of them. I think John and Bucky are two of the most complex characters we have, so I enjoy writing for them both. I look forward to writing more. As always, my inbox is always open. Send me requests, questions, or anything else you wanna! Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! Love ya //

{tags}

@puppygar ~ @somemadart ~ @person-005 ~ @witchygagirl ~ @illyrianbrat ~ @fire-joestar ~ @imtherain ~

#john walker #john walker x reader #john f walker #u.s. agent #us agent x reader #new avengers #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #sexymonsterfics #fanfic #wyatt russell #wyatt russell x reader

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 1 year ago

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What is it about The Boys that makes it everything you do *not* want in a superhero story?

I do not, and I can't state this strongly enough, give a flying fuck what superheroes might be like in the """"real world"""". I do not care at all. I hate that premise. I despise it. I want it to be tortured and beheaded on a dark web livestream.

I don't want to see terrible stand ins for my childhood heroes turned into murderers and rapists and strawmen for whatever current day issues the writers don't understand this year. I don't want to see superheroes used to tell the same tired ass defeatist bullshit story that life is bad and people are awful and everyone is a piece of shit and there's no good or evil just shades of grey and blah blah blah blah

BORING!

BORING BORING!

BORING!!!!!

I want superheroes to fight super villains. I want good guys to be good and bad guys to be bad. I want hopeful stories of people being better than the narcissists and psychopaths we see on the news every day. I want heroes that exemplify the best of America and American values without narratively apologizing for shit that happened 100 years ago. I want superheroes to be role models again. I want a child to be able to pick up a comic and be told that the world isn't an awful place. That friendship and love is real and standing up for what's right is a reward in itself. I want superhero stories to kill jaded cynicism and embrace genuineness and optimism.

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fulcrums501st · 6 months ago

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Honestly I think the main thing I can’t look past in s2 is how it offers super simple solutions to incredibly complex and nuanced questions that s1 set up so intricately.

How can someone like Jinx ever become stable or well adjusted? Oh her hallucinations basically cease cuz she just becomes depressed and then before she can get over that brief period of apathy and go back to her psychotic self, she adopts a kid that basically brings Powder back. So the super crazy Jinx we expected to see after the cliffhanger of s1 never gets the chance to form! Isha serves as a plot device to avoid a complicated answer to Jinx’s mental issues and question of identity.

How can Vi and Jinx ever become sisters again after they’ve changed to much, is it even possible for them to reconcile? OH their dead dad comes back and reminds them of the good old days so we can ignore all the present and much more recent shit that has happened! And we’ll just really reaffirm that Jinx is Vander’s kid and not Silco’s after ep 4! This is the easy way out to the sister conflict, literally just reminding them that “oh yeah! We did used to be sisters!” And then Jinx can just die so we don’t need explore a complicated road to recovery that Jinx would have needed to embark on! Wow. What a cop out.

Will Zaun and Piltover ever be able to escape the cycle of violence that plagues them that is rooted in complex systemic oppression and inequality? Is violence the answers? Or will it only perpetuate more conflict? How can compromise come about with the rising extremism on both sides? How can Zaun and Piltover ever progress while acknowledging the horrors of the past, but still retaining optimism for the future? OH! Let’s actually just not even BOTHER exploring Piltover/Zaun at all!! They’ll team up to fight foreign 3rd enemy (literally foreign cuz Noxus is literally another nation interfering) and an incredibly simple exploration of forgiveness is the answer! Definitely not cliché as crap.

Complex questions, basic, uncomplicated answers. I simply wish the writers had chosen to prioritize themes and exploring interesting nuances more than big plot climatic style battle in the end. I see visions of nuance there, but they fall flat cuz of the fast pacing and what plots the story chose to prioritize, which don’t organically continue the setup from s1

And the season doesn’t do enough to properly explore these answer to justify them answering those questions. They use plot point through plot point to force the characters to where they need them to be without doing anything interesting with them to explore these complex themes from s1. and after speeding through all these arcs and themes they turn around and pretend like they perfectly answered these questions without putting in any of the work to bother exploring them

#arcane #arcane silco #arcane league of legends #arcane critical #arcane season 2 #arcane jinx #arcane spoilers #arcane vi #vi #jinx #jinx arcane #arcane s2 #arcane s1 #paracritical #paranalysis

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theheroheart · 11 days ago

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Quick GIF tutorial (Photoshop)

#holy shit this is perfection!!#i am so jealous of this set!#the coloring op THE COLORING!!! (original post)

alright @dontyouknowemma-itsyou and anyone interested, this was really easy to colour so I'm gonna give you a quick breakdown. (i didn't save the psd file?? so i'm redoing this i guess, but i did it on autopilot in the first place. i've been making gifs for over 15 years.)

GONNA INCLUDE A VIDEO AT THE END SHOWING OFF THE SETTINGS!!

General GIF stuff

This is in Photoshop CC. I extract a clip from a video as an MP4 file, which photoshop can open. (I use AviDemux for this, which is free, because it lets you save clips using 'copy' encoding for video output and still change from MKV to MP4 format - without losing any video quality, cause you're not re-encoding.)

Open that shit directly in photoshop as a video layer (just drag and drop), that lets you scan through it to check the colouring works overall. Convert the video layer to Smart Object, that lets you resize and edit it. (Do NOT open a full movie in Photoshop, it'll probably die and it has a max length anyway.)

Also all the colour adjustments are gonna be adjustment layers you can tweak and turn on/off whenever. There's a lil button at the bottom of the Layers window to add them quickly.

When we're done we're choosing a section of the video in the Timeline window and we're doing File->Export->Save For Web. 'Adaptive' (or selective) palette selection, 'pattern' style dithering.

Colouring

Curves layer to lighten. Just pull the curve up. Curves seem to give a much smoother lightening, since it mostly affects the middle, leaving the brights and the darks where they are.

Levels to make the darkest darks pure black, and the lightest lights pure white. Good for limiting GIF size. Don't overdo it though.

Colour balance!! My beloved, most important. So for the Shadows and Highlights, you're gonna move the sliders towards Cyan and Blue, but for the Midtones you're gonna do the opposite - towards Red and Yellow. This means you don't shift the overall colour of the picture, but trust me it does SO MUCH for the contrast and colour. I swear I do this for almost any edit, and also my art tbh. Also if the original clip is like very green or whatever, you can correct that here.

Selective colour. For this I did one thing. For 'Black' dropdown, I upped 'black' and 'yellow' sliders (the latter to counteract the blue in the darks). This in combination with:

Levels again. Bring in those darks, turn them pure black. Basically this does a couple things. It preserves GIF file size, by making sure the dark areas are static (file sizes mostly depends on pixels that are CHANGING). It ALSO makes the palette much more optimized, meaning you don't waste palette on the darks no one sees anyway, and instead uses them in the mid range colour variation, giving much smoother gradients. That's it!! That's all the colouring!!

EDIT: Uh I probably also had a Vibrance layer?? Idk. This just ups the saturation, but it's softer than upping Saturation. Makes the colours pop without overdoing it.

Other tips and tricks

Often I'll put a Smart Sharpen (50% amount, 0,5px radius) filter on the video layer, just to make it a bit crisper. Subtle but effective.

You can manually edit the palette when you save as a GIF, either to reduce file size, or because some colour areas look pixelly. See the video for how.

If your file size is huge but you don't want to shorten or resize, you can reduce the frame rate manually. To do this, FIRST save the GIF, then open the GIF you just saved. Go through in the Timeline window (which is now a Frame Animation rather than a Video Timeline), select every other frame, and delete them. When you do this, remember to select the rest of the frames and double their Frame Delay so you don't end up with a super speedy GIF. (You can also make a GIF slow-mo like this.)

Since the video is a smart object, I literally just resized it in between saving the different GIFs, to change composition between the different shots.

Selective Colour layer can be used for a lot of image tweaking. For example, if something is overly yellow or green, I may go to the Yellow and Green in dropdown and just reduce the yellow slider. (I usually then go to Red in dropdown and ADD some yellow to that, to balance out the reds to be less pink.) Or maybe the overall colours are nice but the blues are dull, so I'll just go to Blue/Cyan and tweak those specifically.

If you have a colouring you like that you want to use on lots of things, remember you can drag-and-drop layers between different images. You can also save a photoshop file with nothing but those layers, to use on later gifs and just tweak as needed. (You can also make Actions to automate stuff, but I won't go into that.)

How easy or hard something is to colour HUGELY depends on the original video, both lighting/colouring and video quality.

Finally the video showing settings!

This is like 5 minutes long and has no commentary or anything. This is mostly to show off where you find each individual thing, and what difference it makes in the colouring.

ANYWAY hope someone found this useful!!! ♥

#next to normal #gif making #photoshop #gif tutorial #photoshop tutorial #my posts #my gifs #art things #tutorials #PS if you can't afford Photoshop then just you know.... yo ho ho and all that

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fixyourwritinghabits · 4 months ago

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Hello. I realize this might be overly personal for this blog but I was wondering if you had any advice for my situation. I'm trying to get back into creative hobbies like drawing and writing and while I made some progress with drawing I've really struggled with writing. It's been about ten years. I struggled with my mental health a lot when I was younger and essentially let my depression/anxiety and ADHD destroy all my creative ability. Logically I know the answer is to just write and write badly, but I'm preemptively disappointed and upset that what I write will be. Well. Shit. Or that I'll never improve. Or that I have no idea what to write. And when I do have an idea what to write it's all just gone from my head the second I sit down to write. So. Er. I guess I'm wondering if you have any advice or resources for people like me? Thank you :)

When you're juggling various different Back-Stabbing Brain issues, various pieces of writing advice - getting up at 5pm, forcing yourself to do it, etc - just doesn't work. For me, it's been a struggle to figure out even in optimal situations, so you're not alone. For me, the following is what worked.

Figure out your peak writing time.

Unfortunately, in our capitalist hellscape, you may not be able to use that time to your advantage. My peak time is from 2pm-5pm, right in the middle of work and fades right when I get home. Not ideal. But I can use that knowledge to take advantage of that time on my free days, and I can strategically time my breaks to do some writing. Or just write while pretending to work. Not that I would ever confess to doing that.

Taking the time to figure out when your brain is most willing to work with you is also very helpful. My brain will not work for writing after 8pm. It can, however, still do the dishes. Forcing myself to put off chores so that I can write is super hard thanks to my ADHD (which hates chores until I need to do something else), but I can combat that by making goal lists, scheduling my writing time (with set alarms on my phone!) helps me manage that.

Change location.

I can't get a lot of work done at home. I've tried. I've moved my desk around, I've locked down my internet browsers when writing, I have ignored the way my cat stares holes into my back to try to write. My brain, though, knows that the bed is right over there, we've got that pile of books to read, and oh hey, Tasting History has a new video. Also my cat wants to steal my computer chair and then get constant pets while in said chair because she is a princess baby. It's a losing battle.

What does work for me? Dragging my work to the library. Finding a cafe with enough space and quiet music to get some stuff done. Breaking out a foldable desk on the porch so that there is a closeable barrier between me and my distractions (the cats hate this option).

Changing location is something that works for me. If you have limited options, build barriers between yourself and distractions. Pile stuff on the bed so that it's not easy to give in and lie down for "just a minute." Close doors. Bribe your cats (or your kids). Use a standing desk - shifting your position can help lock down some of the ansty need to be doing something (my chair-stealing cat is more than happy to help with this).

I know of one writer who only gets work done by locking herself in her bathroom, because it's just enough change of scene to get her thoughts to settle. I know another writer who can only get editing done sitting in his parked car. However wacky, trying different scenarios to get something to work can really help.

Find the right tools.

The only way I can draft is by hand. It sucks and I have carpal tunnel, but my brain cannot type words into a blank screen. I need a pile of messy papers that no one else can read to work from.

I'm also very particular about what I write with. I use Uni Power Tank pens from Japan (because they're the only damn pen I've found that doesn't smear my left-handed writing), and I cycle through different types of paper I exclusively work with. Right now it's Five Star Reinforced Filler Paper with the triangle holes, not the round ones.

I don't know why this works, it just does. I've changed up what I've used over time, but as long as I'm consistent and not trying to write a chapter using differently-sized paper (insert scream here), I can get it done. Test out different tools and find what fits for you.

Organization isn't helping? Embrace chaos.

Jeff VanderMeer wrote an entire series on post-it notes, napkins, and on the backs of old bills. I wouldn't recommend that, but if a little chaos gets the job done, then do it. Spread a story across several half-filled notebooks. Map dialogue using only flashcards. Instead of waiting to sit down to get work done, scribble away while on a bus or on the move (safely, of course). Use a speech-to-text app to talk out your writing. Sometimes the more tactile you can make writing, the more you can break up those barriers keeping you from writing.

Try out different things! You'll eventually find what works for you

#writing advice #writing tips #encouragement #writblr #tumblr mobile loves deleting my damn links

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level2janitor · 1 year ago

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Introduction to the OSR

what's an OSR? it's a game that's kinda like old-school D&D. or is old-school D&D. or is compatible with old-school D&D. an OSR game generally has some or all of the following principles:

low character power with highly lethal combat. in old-school D&D a 1st-level fighter has d8 hit points and a longsword does d8 damage, and you die at 0HP. this is not to ensure characters die all the time but to emphasize the next bullet point:

emphasis on creative problem solving. most situations cannot be solved by straightforward use of your abilities (such as charging into every situation with swords drawn, if a fighter), so the game tests lateral, outside-the-box thinking.

emphasis on diegetic progression. spells are found, not obtained automatically on level-up. you get XP by finding gold more than killing monsters. most of your cool abilities come from magic items. making alliances & hiring followers is encouraged.

focus on managing inventory, resources, risk, and time. the players are constantly faced with meaningful decisions; this is the heart of the game.

very sandbox-oriented. the focus on creative problem solving means the game must be accommodating to players taking a course of action the GM didn't plan for. use lots of random tables to generate emergent story. some elements of new simulationism.

high tactical transparency, i.e., the optimal course of action is rarely system-specific, and ideally very possible for a new player to intuit.

usually semi-compatible with old D&D, but not always. usually rules-lite, but not always.

what does the OSR mostly NOT do?

focus on character builds. these change the focus too much to be on the rules than the fiction, can create situations where stuff everyone should be able to do is an ability locked to one class, and impede tactical transparency.

resolve everything with a die roll. combat uses dice to be scary, unpredictable and most importantly not your default course of action. everything else should bring up dice rarely - dice are your plan B when your plan A fails. the best plans need no dice.

use linear storytelling or put players into a writer/GM role. linear storytelling gets in the way of the decision-making so core to the playstyle; letting players write details into the setting is mutually exclusive with them discovering it.

rules for everything. 400 pages of crunch is worse at simulating a believable world than the GM and players' shared understanding. OSR games rely constantly on GM ruling.

mostly still applies to all the above. making your system a "pure" OSR game comes second to doing what's best for your game.

System recommendations

old D&D or a retroclone

old-school D&D - or old school essentials or basic fantasy or swords & wizardry, which are old D&D's mechanics repackaged with quality-of-life tweaks (and the upside of not giving WOTC your money) - are usually the go-to when recommending someone's first OSR game. they're actually not my first pick, though!

PROS:

very complete, with more robust rules than a lot of the lighter games on this list.

100% compatibility: most OSR adventures are statted for old school essentials. converting them to other OSR systems is usually simple, but not 1-for-1.

easier to find games for. anyone interested in the OSR space knows what old school essentials is.

CONS:

jank. these games largely still have weird saves, level limits for non-humans, some still have descending AC, etc etc. it's not that bad but it is there

i hate thief skills. lots of essential dungeoneering actions are locked to the thief class as abilities, with abysmally low success chances. this is stuff i prefer being handled without a roll. thieves in this system suck and make everyone else worse at dungeon crawling by existing.

there's just lots of really cool shit in other systems i'm about to go into that you just don't get here

Knave 1e and its various hacks

this is a 7-page super-lightweight system that boils everything down to just the essentials.

rolling a character takes like 5 minutes. roll stats, roll gear, roll traits, go. done. it's great.

characters are defined entirely by stats and gear, no classes. wanna be a fighter, have high strength and carry a big sword and armor. wanna be a wizard, have high intelligence and fill your inventory with spells. item slots are elegant and pretty limited.

initiative is instant: roll d6. 1-3, monsters go first. 4-6, PCs go first. swingy, but god it is so smooth and shaves like the most boring 5 minutes off of every combat

monsters are so very elegant. old D&D gives monsters a "hit dice" rating to determine their HP, e.g. a 3HD monster rolls 3d8 for hit points. knave takes this number (HD) and uses it for attack rolls and saves (aside from exceptionally bad/good saves), so a knave statblock looks something like this.

spells are all one or two sentences long & extremely easy to remember.

7 pages is so light. i have the system basically memorized.

DOWNSIDES: there's no dungeon crawling rules (standard for meatier OSR games & something i consider essential) and no real bestiary, though the second point isn't a huge deal cause they're so easy to make. it also kinda assumes you already know how to run OSR games, so there's very little real advice or guidance.

KNAVE HACKS

knave 1e is in creative commons & comes with an editable word doc for you to publish with modifications, so there's a ton of variants (there was a spreadsheet of them somewhere, but i can't find it).

Grave is a favorite - i'm two years into a grave campaign and it's fantastic. it's a dark-souls-y version of knave with some really elegant innovations.

you have a set number of deaths before you for-reals die, as every character plays an undead as is dark souls tradition. makes it good for OSR beginners! being able to tell when you're close to your final death is really good - it lets you emotionally prepare for losing your character & raises the stakes more the more you die. (though honestly you should probably cut the number of extra deaths in half, it's super generous)

XP and gold are combined into one resource, souls. legendary creatures drop big souls you can make into magic items. this has ended up being the coolest thing in my current campaign. my players love finding powerful souls to make into magic items it's so fun

uses preset packages of stats/gear instead of knave's rolled ones, filling the role of more traditional character classes. has the wonderful side effect of not making you get stuck with low stats cause you rolled bad one time.

you have stamina equal to your empty item slots. you spend stamina on spells if you're a caster, or free maneuvers (on top of your attack at no action cost) if you're not. it's super elegant.

there's 3 classes of spells: wizardry for intelligence, holy magic for wisdom, and witch stuff for charisma. nice and intuitive.

there's a page of 50 magic items each a couple sentences long. this PDF is worth it just for the magic items.

DOWNSIDE: see the downsides for knave 1e. all still apply.

i enjoyed grave so much i made a variant of it with the dark souls bits removed (and some dungeon crawl rules added!) to use for my standard fantasy campaigns.

Knave 2e

sadly knave 2e is not purchasable yet (i backed it on kickstarter so i have access, though). but when it comes out i highly recommend it.

much larger and denser than knave 1e. it finally has dungeon crawling rules, it has GM and player guidance, everything is refined and the layout is so so nice and readable.

combat is a bit more interesting than 1e. you can break your weapon against an enemy to deal max damage. you get a free maneuver on high attack rolls.

there's rules for stuff like alchemy, warfare, building a base. it all kicks ass.

there are so many goddamn tables. i rifle through it anytime i need inspiration.

DOWNSIDES: some of the new rules are a little untested & wonky. introducing randomness into how often your rations spoil or your lights go out can cause issues.

Mausritter

you play tiny little mice! in a world full of big dangerous things that want to eat mice. cat = dragon. you get it. what more could you want

the mouse thing is just super intuitive. you get the dynamic between you and the big scary lethal world. fantastic OSR game to introduce kids

nice and robust ruleset; nothing feels missing

tons of super nice GM stuff! faction rules, tools for rolling up hexcrawls and dungeons, plenty of tables

super clean readable layout. font isn't too small to avoid being intimidating. guidance is really nice and clear.

combat is autohit. super fast & lethal.

100% free

look mausritter is just. good. i wanna run it so bad someday

Worlds Without Number

sort of a middle ground between OSR stuff and 5e. paid version here free version here

lots of classes, at least in the paid version. the free version comes with just the warrior, expert and mage. there's feats and more of a focus on builds than most OSR games. if you like more mechanical build variety than a typical OSR game, this is a great game for you!

extremely good multiclassing. y'know how in most games if you just mash together two classes you think are cool you'll end up with a total mess? not here! every combo is viable and works fine! easily the best multiclassing of any game i've touched

an absurd amount of GM stuff and tables. easily more than any of the other stuff i've praised for also having them. but personally i haven't dug into them as much, so i can't really comment on them

skills the way modern D&D has them. you roll dice and try to beat a target number. i don't tend to like rolled skills, but most people do, so if that's your thing WWN has them

DOWNSIDES

the layout is terrible. everything is a huge wall of text with very little use of bold text or bullet points to draw attention to the important bits. the table of contents has like 15 things in it for a 400-page book! i couldn't find any of the paid-version-exclusive classes for like a month after i bought it! looking up rules is a nightmare.

the way the default setting handles "evil races" is like an exaggerated parody of all the problematic aspects of how D&D handles it. like, it wants so bad for you to have an excuse to genocide sentient free-willed people. but at least the default setting is easy to chuck in the trash

Dungeon Crawl Classics

the goal of this system is to take all of the crazy gonzo moments people remember playing old-school D&D in their childhood and turn all of that up to 11 while cutting the stuff that doesn't add to that. i think a lot of its innovations have ended up kind of standard in newer OSR stuff (like fighters getting maneuvers with their attacks), but it still has more to offer.

the funnel: you start the game with four randomly rolled dipshit peasants that you then throw into a meatgrinder to get horribly killed. you pick one of the survivors to be your 1st-level character.

maneuvers: fighters roll an extra die with each attack that gets bigger as you level. if it's a 3 or higher, you get to do a cool thing on top of your attack. pretty standard for OSR games, but this game popularized it!

crit tables: fighters also get more crits and nastier crits as they level. every crit, you roll on the crit table. maybe you chop off a dude's arm. maybe you just knock them over. maybe you shatter their shield. it's very cool

spell tables: i don't really like roll-to-cast mechanics, generally. but DCC goes so all-in on roll-to-cast that it still looks fun as hell to watch. you cast a fireball and maybe it goes how you want. or maybe you explode, or you nuke everything in a half-mile radius, or from now on you permanently ignite flammable materials you touch, or whatever. casters just have to put up with turning into a weird mutated mess across a campaign

there's no dungeon crawl rules, no encumbrance - this game is all about the big over-the-top wacky shit, and is not really interested in the more down-to-earth number crunching. it's more in the you-die-hilariously-all-the-time area of OSR than the you-avoid-death-through-clever-play area. not really my thing but the system knows exactly what it wants to be and i respect it

iron halberd

this one is mine! as the author i'm not qualified to tell you what isn't good about my system, so just assume it's worse than i make it sound, but here's a bunch of the selling points

semi-random character creation where you flip back and forth between rolling dice and getting your own input. roll stats, pick ancestry. pick starting gear kit, roll different dice based on which kit you picked. etc etc. stats are random but all equally viable (no rolling incredibly low or high stats). every time i run this game the character creation is a hit. seriously go roll up a character it'll sell you on the whole thing

you start out a lot stronger than a standard OSR character but grow way more slowly. i don't like 4th-level characters being 4 times as strong as 1st-level ones; HP never gets that high. emphasis is more on diegetic progression instead.

way too many subsystems for alchemy, crafting, strongholds, warfare, renown, rituals, likes 9 pages of magic items, a whole subsystem for becoming a cleric mid-campaign. i couldn't help myself i love this shit

in my current campaign we had a player permanently sacrifice some max HP to become a necromancer after deliberating on whether that's a good idea for like thirty seconds, which instantly made me think my necromancy system is a success

also free

Adventure recommendations

(in rough order of size)

Moonhill Garden (by Emiel Boven): look at this. look at it! this is like the best template for a little dungeon in an OSR game. all of the little factions are tied together. this would be a great oneshot to introduce people to an OSR system with.

A gathering of blades (by Ben Milton): a system-neutral, one-page sandbox. i ran this for an iron halberd game and it went super well. lasted like 7 sessions. highly recommend.

The Waking of Willowby Hall (by Ben Milton): a single dungeon with a million things going on. it's super chaotic with half a dozen different factions crashing into each other and a big angry goose. highly recommend, especially for kids

The Black Wyrm of Brandonsford (by Chance Dudinack): small sandbox with a fun fairytale vibe and a very fleshed-out little town. and a big nasty dragon.

Evils of Illmire (by Zack Wolf): this is a very dense, entire campaign's worth of hexcrawl in a very compact package for like $5. it doesn't do anything particularly new, but the value-for-money is absurd and it's a really good template for how to do a sandbox if you're used to 5e adventures

Ask me anything!

if anything here is unclear or intrigues you, send me asks! i love helping people get into OSR games. i'll link frequently asked questions here if i get any.

#osr #nsr #ttrpg #d&d #iron halberd #knave #worlds without number #dungeon crawl classics #mausritter #l2j archive

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cyberglyphs · 1 year ago

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Reasons to ship every single version of MegOP

since Very Dumb Discourse™ exists about whether or not certain versions of this ship are valid, this is going to be THE most positive post about all versions of MegOP. refer back to this post for reasons to ship your favorite version of MegOP if anyone gets weird about it with you. now let us begin!!

G1: goofy '80s faction dads fighting each other in a denny's parking lot every week LET'S GOOO, that shit is fun as fuck. orion pax also totally had a celeb crush on megatron before megatron ruined that and shot him and his pals 😔 and there's a lot of angst you can add with megatron becoming galvatron and optimus coming back to life to see how much he's changed!

BW: it's the sheer fucking comedy gold factor of a newly minted college graduate and a terrorist dinosaur IMMEDIATELY singling each other out on a prehistoric rock and deciding to call their daily gang slap-fights the BEAST WARS, what iconic drama queens LMAOOOO. also, megatron made his final body in BM look like optimal optimus SPECIFICALLY to fuck with him, and that's just...incredible

UT: the fact that megatron CANONICALLY acted like a grieving widower over optimus after he died in armada is. amazing. never forget their absolutely insane obsession with each other that they can never EVER give up on played a direct part in unicron nearly ending the world <3

Bayverse: this is the one continuity of all fucking things that gave us the lore about megatron being prime's lord high protector. absolute galaxy brain writing from the tie-in comics. also these two would ABSOLUTELY have the messiest, nastiest, most brutal hate sex imaginable, and that's beautiful. <3

Animated: optimus being a rookie washout underdog and megatron being a super scary much older warlord is a really interesting and underrated fresh take on their dynamic! lots of fun to be had with exploring what their relationship would be like after megatron finally acknowledged him as his archnemesis, lol. also...age AND size difference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Prime: do i even need to say anything, i'm pretty sure that one flashback still of orion and megatronus being friends is responsible for birthing a million shippers for this pairing alone LMAOOOO. the bitter ex-boyfriends energy was TRULY off the charts in this show, it's a damn shame megatron never appeared in RID15

Cyberverse: same bitter ex-boyfriends energy but this time with dates at maccadams. megatron also dies encouraging optimus to beat the unhinged alternate dimension megs AAHH THE ANGST

IDW1: they're both depressed gay war criminals in this one who CONSTANTLY live in each other's heads rent-free and that's amazing, lmfao. also, megatron becoming an autobot means this is one of the VERY FEW continuities where it's not nigh impossible to figure out a way to give these two a happy ending together in fanon

IDW2: space date space date SPACE DATE. they were falling together and everything. megatron also LITERALLY tells optimus to open himself to him...to give him the matrix...yeah megs my dude i'm sure that's the ONLY thing you wanted from optimus "opening" himself. toootally positive, lol

G1 Marvel: megatron was SUPER fucking pissed and weird as shit about the time optimus died over a video game. it counts

Dreamwave: their first fight had megatron urging optimus to join him AND they disappeared together in a space bridge explosion once which is like, a fanfic-esque setup for them to be alone. also i'm pretty sure this is the continuity where optimus accidentally gave megatron a lobotomy, so...uh...potential for angst is to be had

SG: mirror universe!! evil crazy villain optimus with noble goody-goody hero megatron has so much potential for absolute chaos. bonus if you also bring in the normal versions somehow through multiverse shenanigans <3

KP: the only way this version of prime can redeem himself from the creepy underage human girl bullshit is if he gets a good hard dicking from megatron. next

Prime Wars: huge "ex-husbands go on a road trip with their disgruntled daughter" energy here. megatron also LITERALLY says "oh optimus, if only you could see me now" <3

Earthspark: again...need i say why? they're pals and working together from the get-go, what's not to ship??

Skybound: optimus literally wears megatron's arm. truly beautiful <3

TF One: it's not out yet but give it time. the entire movie is going to be about orion and d-16 being madly in love and tragically breaking up, baby!!

#if you're wondering why i didn't include the wfc trilogy it's because those shows fucking suck and i hate them LMAO #transformers #maccadams #megop #edited after the fact to include the new comics lol

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 11 months ago

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Hear me out on this one, what if, instead of making Charlie weirdly “innocent” and squeamish about really basic shit in hell she actually, I dunno, was aware of it and used to it? And she had to work through her own moral upbringing to get to the point of optimism shes at now? Consider how much more enjoyable of a character she would be if she wasn’t written so flimsy. She is the main character for fucks sake like genuinely. I love myself a character that cries a bunch and is super sweet don’t get me wrong but she is the princess of hell and has been around the most abhorrent disgusting people for centuries.

Even just a quick tiny nod to Charlie not being 100% written as “innocent little baby lady who has one “girlboss moment” would be insane to me. You can totally still have her comically ignorant sometimes too with this as well like can you imagine some random scene later on; Angel makes some kind of mildly tame sex joke and Charlie just adds onto it with the most insane shit possible out of nowhere and everyone just looks at her and shes just standing there like this

She could totally one up everyone on the “what the fuck” scale by ten fold and they just never utilise this for story or comedic potential. You have so much power. Her dynamic with Vaggie who probably still has not 100% adjusted to hell has so much potential please. Imagine them texting

“hey babe hru im on my way back to the hotel💚”

“I just saw some guy hit a family of 4 with an oil rig that caught on fire and it was kinda sad but I think I’m alright now 😕”

“ what.”

PLEASE USE THIS POTENTIAL FOR ANYTHING. IM BEGGING.

#raimble #hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #charlie morningstar hazbin #charlie morningstar hazbin hotel #charlie hazbin #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #vaggie #chaggie

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hotsinglesmusic · 1 year ago

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warframe is so weird because

You are always running into a thing you haven't tried out yet

"The sprimblaya is soo op! Its super boring to use, has a 10 minute reload time and stuns everyone in a 5 mile radius whenever i use it but damage number big so its meta"

"The three letters on this coaster have extreme lore implications"

Running into a glitch while in a squad and apologizing to each other about it

"look at my cool stalker fashionframe, I think it looks really cool" (it's just pitch black and violently saturated red)

Some random guy in region chat complaining about how he can't say words anymore, he will also use Grendel as shorthand for fat shaming seemingly unaware of what he's doing

Certain warframes/builds that can just completely change the game (Grendel, Speedva, Titania, Yareli, Zephyr)

Solaris United rank 5

Someone living out their entire game in character as their operator oc, making social media posts in character, extremely dedicated to saying everything in character. Their fashion also usually looks like a skyrim mod (sometimes they do it in third person and speak about their operator like it's their little virtual pet)

"look at my cool fashionframe, i did the newer thing but prime" (it's just white and violently yellow gold)

Some random person in relay chat offering blowjobs in exchange for an affinity blessing

Spending more time customizing shit/optimizing builds than you spend playing the game

"look at my cool fashionframe" (Their philosophy seems to be that every single customization slot needs to be filled by something or they will die)

Dropping into a lobby where two players frantically type brazilian portuguese/italian/etc in the chat and you don't understand the language but you understand enough to think that they might be making fun of you

Some random person in region chat saying the horniest shit imaginable

"look at my cool fashionframe" (it actually looks insanely good except the item they used is something you simply cannot get even if you wanted to pay $40000 for it)

Playing the most immersive, best quest ever only to find out that you are physically incapable of beating the archons and you have to teach your little brother how to play warframe just to finish the quest

I can go on and I will

#warframe #idk

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threepandas · 10 months ago

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Bad End: We Are

Senatus was a ecumenopolis. The "shining jewel" (yeah, right) of the Galactic Core. Please. Like? Maybe it was! If you were RICH AS FUCK. I don't know. I'VE never seen the towers. The heights. Most people haven't. Street level? Is about FIVE HUNDRED FLOORS DOWN. And the UNDERGROUND? Speak not of it.

The Underground GROWS.

What was street level today, may not be tomorrow. Levels buried under "progress" as the rich grow ever higher. The Tox levels ever worse. Air quality dropping. Why fix the peasant's poverty and despair, when you can buy a Sky garden you'll never use? And yes, I AM bitter as a Buirian fish ration. Just as salty too. Taste the SEA, motherfuckers.

Rent? Who can AFFORD rent!? Who can afford ANYTHING?!

It's some BULLSHIT.

But me? I remembered. A life. Before this one. Before the millennium of slow, drip drip drip erosion of duty and dues. Back when people still REMEMBERED what they were OWED. And when folks in power failed to pay up? Ffffuck um. Take it. Our house now, motherfuckers. Diplomacy was a courtesy not a weakness.

....I make people nervous, honestly.

Probably why I keep getting fired. That and my constantly reporting people to regulatory boards. Maybe don't break the LAW if you don't want to get in trouble you SHITS. Fuck you! Yes, I stole your fancy office chair. PROVE IT. You don't know how the security system works!

Where was I? Ah, right. Rent.

Fuck Rent.

Thing is? What! Is a biodome? If not an enclosed system, regulated by machines, for optimal habitability? And! What? Is an Deep Underground Level? Long forgotten? Abandoned, if you will~, if not? A complete enclosed environment? Does someone OWN them? Yes. Technically. But are they MAINTAINING them? CHECKING on them? Nope!

Common knowledge, after all, says that EVERYTHING down their is "beyond salvaging"!

Free Real Estate~☆

I just need some supplies. Which? Cheaper in the long run then RENT. Especially if ya' salvage um. Maybe steal some tool sets from your shitty, shitty Mechanics job, because your boss refuses to pay you. Who can say? Not me! I just FOUND these tools! Like maaaagic~

And really, one man's junk? Another man's treasure. I pay more then the trash company. Hit up the right cleaning companies? And? Oops. They've "lost" some of those SUPER broken righ folks "junk" that? At best? Just needed a few wires replaced, resecured. Maybe a new part. Or were, you know, not the latest and greatest anymore.

Shove it all in a storage locker? Sell the refurb'd shit I don't need? Sleep in a glorified shoebox? And?? Bam. Operation "fuck ya'll, i'ma moleman" is a go. It takes FOREVER to find the right WILDLY out of date (and long abandoned) lift, but I find it! Hidden away in a service area in some crumbling, forgotten corner of what once was a rail station.

Gonna have to fix THAT up too. Later, though. First? The lift. The wires are brittle and the lift's pully system is half rusted, frozen, or otherwise broken. Luckily, the car itself is fine. It... takes a bit of research. Not going to lie. It's far from my specialty. I even call in a professional to go over my work.

They catch a few things. Not immediate concerns, but would have been fatal in the long run. Money well spent. For my hobby, of course. Fixing up old bits of the city. Which is a weird but not impossible hobby to have.

Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, my dude.

First thing down? Lights, melter, and duraplast sheets. Toolkit too, for obvious reasons. Same with my full body hazard suit. I go DEEP. Like... no longer can hear the city, deep. 'Bout halfway point. Takes nearly thirty minutes. And while not a fast lift? Holy SHIT, man.

The floor I step out into is... bad.

Dead in a way that's hard to explain. There's pressure against my suit. Centuries of heavy gasses slowly working their way down. Swirling in the silence. The dust and impossible dark. My headlight feels almost... sacrilegious. Dangerous. Like I'm waving a flashlight around some ancient burial ground, filled with the not so restful dead.

I had heard... that they? Just... just LEFT droids down here. That there were levels upon levels of dangerously feral machines. Slowly rotting away in the darkness. Probably rightfully angry, that they had been built to serve, to do duties, which they HAD done... only to be consigned to hell on earth for the sake of CONVENIENCE.

I'd be mad too. Fucking LIVID. Would remember and hate, never let it go.

This was no place of honor, it was a tomb.

Still, I got too work. Set up a light by the lift and started measuring out the original air box. The air cleaners could only handle so much. And THIS? This was worse then expected. So it'd have to be smaller then originally planned. Fair enough. I could work with that.

I outlined the space in lights. All the better to make it easier to put things up. Then got the folded later and started securing the duraplast. First step, get it up. THEN melt it to the metal. Get a good seal. It took... a while. Was slow, steady, sweaty work.

The filters couldn't run until they had a an enclosed space TO run in. They'd just blow out, trying to filter the whole level's toxic atmosphere. I kept an eye on my air supply. Not great, not terrible. The readings though? Horrific. I had no idea what I was gonna DO with the filters when they needed changing. These kind of chemicals would set off all SORTS of alarms.

But? No use, rushing things. That was a great way to get a fatal leak somewhere. No. Slow and steady. Even though, third of the way through, I did have to head back up. I needed to refill my air. Eat. Drink. Maybe de-stink a little, from being in that suit all day. Possibly nap near the lift.

ALSO? Update my shopping list to include some heavy duty neutralizers.

Just filters wasn't gonna be enough. I was gonna have to hose down everything INSIDE my new air-box, then scrub it HARD. How fun. Well, it's not like anyone was making me do this. It was MY mad idea, after all.

So? I refuel, get bright eyed and fuckin' perky, and go back down to face the beast.

Honestly I should have brought a telebook or something. Well, audio book. But that's not what they call um these days, so I try to stick to the lingo. I sound less like a deeply insane antique. Confuse less people. Joys of basic communication and all that.

Part of me? Wishes I had been born closer to "The Plot". Creation's specialist, most favored, Blorbos. But? The common SENSE in me? Routinely laughs hysterically as it waves fifteen different restraining orders and a crucifix. Not even religious. Yet here we are, shouting "BEGONE! Sataaaaan!" in HD, on the inside of my head. Not sure it helps.

See... it's the fucking DRAMA~☆™

The shear, unmitigated, high octane, Otome Game DRAMA.

I would fuckin DIE or, possibly and, kill somebody. The endless string of selfish, selfish, poor life choices? Driving by luuuuuuv~♡? Give me your spleen. Gonna beat somebody unconscious with their own SPINE. I RAGE. Lack of communication? No one just picking up a fucking PHONE? God forbid ANYONE tell their families their not DEAD IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE!

No. No just inconvenience EVERYBODY and RUIN LIVES. It's okay! You're in LOVE!

That makes EVERYTHING BETTER.

I would inevitably launch them all out an airlock. Spend the rest of my life in jail. They AREN'T WORTH IT. I may have LOVED this game in my teens? But I did not die a teenager.

Now? Now the little shit just aggravate me. They are baby faced pretty boys who presume WAY too much. Arrogant and entitled. Boys playing at being men, thinking their little love stories are the only things that matter. Their feelings are the only thing in the universe that holds any weight.

Unsurprising, really.

Seeing as how their little love story is set mostly in The Towers.

A rich, pampered, pretty little backdrop where nothing of weight is real. No one starves and no crimes are ever committed. Everything shines. Power pools thick like honey. Nothing but sci-fi prince's and alien dukes, a dewey eyed Protagonist sheltered and naive.

Her oh so shocking misadventure to the mid-levels. How SCARY! Downtown! Poor people! Not even the destitute. Just? The EXSISTANCE of dirt and noise, beyond her ivory towers. Thank goodness she is saved by a handsome, rougish bad boy. Who shows her the "real world" of a carnival and a noodle shop.

I finish securing the last duraplast sheet to the ceiling, walls, supports, and along the floors. The "entryway" to the rest of the level is set up. A click together shed I've made air tight. Gonna have to get a air lock system for it. Won't hold forever, with those materials, but should work for now. Combine it with a decontamination system, and I should, in theory, be able to safely enter and leave the rest of the level in a hazard suit.

Moment of truth time. I click on the first of the atmo-filters. It heaves under the strain. The sound getting less aggrieved with each one I flick on. Their screen are already in the red, flashing warnings that I should vacate the area. That the air is dangerously unbreathable. I'm probably gonna need to replace the filters in them in days instead of years. It'll be worth it.

Heading back up, I let them run. It'll take a few days. Besides, I need those neutralizers.

I, of course, DO find um. Just in time to watch Poor Guy (middle class, at worst) Love Interest become a wanted man. They use the BIG screens to announce it. Gee, it's almost like having your only daughter, who is highly sheltered, NOT show up at the designated pick up site? Instead be witnessed in the handsy company of a scoundrel? Which is WILDLY unlike her? Might lead a protective father to some wrong conclusions.

If ONLY someone had CALLED him! To TELL him "Daddy, my first shuttle was broken and I think I got on the wrong back up shuttle! I don't know where I am!" Then this would just be an unfortunate meet cute with the boy he doesn't think is good enough for her. Not, you know... A Kidnapping.

The Chem seller looks just as baffled and annoyed as I do. Apparently knows the guy's uncle's second wife's first husband. No shit? How's he like? Happier, huh. Whole family is like that? Yikes. Glad he got the kids, I guess. Good for him.

We watch as it turns into a high speed chance that absolutely didn't need to happen.

Thank FUCK it's not us.

I spend the next few days deliberately and obstinately ignoring the Dramatic Bullshit that has taken over the news cycle. Fights on rail cars? Don't see it? Weddings that are, then aren't, then ARE happening? Oh look, missed a spot in my scrubbing. Someone fucking tearfully monologing about love as they nearly CRASH A SHIP into downtown, killing hundreds of thousands? Oh that creaking noise is just my teeth, ignore that, I grit my teeth a lot for NO PARTICULAR REASON.

This Is Fine.

I am TOTALLY CALM.

But hey! I can FINALLY empty my storage unit out! Air box? Get! Wooooo! Size of a tiny apartment and everything! As long as I keep working on it? I'll be able to reclaim the level in chunks.

It's like moving in day! But BETTER! Because... because I did this. Me. Is it still creepy down here? Yeah, very. But I can FIX that. I am standing, here, in my new air box "apartment", with NO hazard suit on. And... and it's SAFE. Because of the work I DID.

I kinda want to cry about it, you know?

So many options! Do I put my bed here? There?! Oooh, I could put the folding table HERE and make sort of a dining area? Maybe use these folding screens as a double "wall" slash headboard stand in? I should get plants. Fake ones? No. Real ones. I could get solar lights. It would be good for me too. Oh! Where should I put the cook top?

I admit it. I fuss. Whole day, gleefully wasted. Arranging then rearranging. Getting everything just right. Finding ways to hang my fairy lights. Looking up decor magazines. I have so much ROOM now. A whole level to plan for, ultimately. It... it feels kinda like hope. The first thing that isn't frustration and rage, I've felt in a long, long time.

Going to sleep? I'm happy.

Next day, I head to the BIG archives. The ones attached to the fancy Towers Library. Is it costly to get in? Yeah. But I've saved up enough questions and research topics for the trip to be worth it. I ignore the started glances I get (gasp! Is that a POOR?!) and head straight for the helper droids. Only decent folks in the building, really.

Brought my pad and everything. So it's only a matter of being lead to the right terminals, to download the information I need. Chatting with the research droid the Library had, they offered to do it for me. Bring me a fascinating new research paper on some sort of telepathic moss that had recently been discovered. Not gonna lie... that DID sound fascinating.

I asked if they could put other interest new discovery on my pad too, assuming I still had room once my list was downloaded. They looked gleeful. No idea what I just signed up for, but all right then. They've never steered me wrong before.

Finding a table to sit down and wait was easy. There was always way too many. The paper? Was exactly as fascinating as advertised. The moss was on a newly discovered moon, edge of uncharted space. Nearly ate a researcher, apparently. I was entranced. Or... at least I WAS. Until an obnoxiously familiar high end cologne from Nox drifted to my nose.

Oh god damn it.

I didn't want to look up. Knew what I'd see if I did. Fetishist Sr., crown prince of Nox. See, the second prince? HE was a love interest. Younger, boyish, infatuated with naive and sheltered girls. He loved AT her. Just like his brother. They liked the IDEA of their romantic partners. The narratives they built in their head. Heros of their own stories with sex on line. Never framed so crudely of course, no, no!

No, it was Romance™

My ass, it was. See, little brother wanted his pure, naive, princess to protect. But Prince senior? HE'D stumbled upon me in here in the library. On one of my trips, God help me. The rough, mysterious, brutish Poor. The Commoner, for all that such things were not supposed to exsist. With my strange clothes and stanger ways. Yet? I was NOT as his sycophants no doubt described.

I was educated. I held myself with dignity. I did not need jewels or finery to be lovely.

With such incredible audacity, I was bold.

Which? OBVIOUSLY had to be for HIM, right? Clearly, this was a LOVE STORY. Cinderella. It is inconceivable that I, a peasant, do not crave the attention of my betters. To lift me from my woeful indignity, to a higher state of being. A life of spoiled luxury. But, ah! He is so SHY! How ever will he approach the Love Of His Life~?

I want to throw something. Go awaaaay. My body language could not POSSIBLY be more uninterested. I am SO CLEARLY reading. Stop trying to catch my eye. Don't you FUCKING DARE scoot closer. Swear to God, if you drive me out of the best library in the region? I will stab a b-!

The helper returns with my pad, sternly eyeing my annoyance. Oh, they are a BLESSING. I take it and go. The helper smoothly stepping between me and the prince when he tries to rise, follow me. Aaaw, how sad, you have to behave like the REST OF US. Get FUCKED.

Rest of the day? Planning. Grabbing more broken bits, machines, and parts. Neutralizers by the literal barrel. Than YOU hover carts! Best invention, favorite invention. Saves SO MUCH TIME.

Even managed to get some sun lamps. Nice.

Getting home though? (Ha ha, wooo! I have a HOME now! Land ownershiiiiiiip! Sorta!!!) Is a pain. Lift is only so big, after all. But it is, what it is. Up, down, up, down, uuuuup, and dooooown. Finally! Last load! FREEDOM! Can't watch my shows, yet, but I will! Oh mark my words. I WILL. Meantime? Downloaded seasons are fine.

I eat, fiddle with fixing things, as listen to tunes. Watch some of my shows. Just as I have countless times before. Until... halfway through mid-afternoon? Something shifts, jerky and wrong, out of the corner of my eye. I pause. Turn off my music. Stare to make sure I DID actually see something. And... yeah. Yeah, that was definitely movement.

Didn't look animal though, not like one would survive down here. But who knows. Could be a poacher brought an alien species. So it might be. I grab my flashlight, aim and switch it on. Holy SHIT. That is one incredibly beat up floor clear. Or at least... I THINK it's a floor cleaner? It has the general shape of one. Bigger though. Bulkier. But that makes sense, given it's gotta be well past obsolete.

Still. Poor thing looks beat UP. Listing terribly, sensors beyond cracked and clouded, probably full to dangerous levels. No idea how it's still functioning. But, well, it IS. And it needs help.

Getting up, I grab my hazard suit and pull it on. Grab my "outside the air box" tool kit, which I haven't had a chance to move yet. I grab some parts i look like i'll need, hope I wont need more. Then head out my makeshift airlock. It... works. Rattles concerningly. But it DOES work! So there's that. I approach the floor cleaner slowly. Since I'm PRETTY sure? All the droids down here are feral.

I am correct.

It tries to kill me. Swinging it's suction hose violently and trying to ram me. I talk in a low, soothing voice. Just want to help. Won't do ANYTHING you don't want me too. It's hard to move, right? That's frustrating, isn't it? You don't deserve that. Please, let me help. You can leave the second I'm done. You don't owe me ANYTHING. I just want to help. Please let me help.

The cleaner hisses. Frustrated and upset. Swinging one last time, seemingly more out out of principle then anything else. Cautiously, I inch forward. Keep up the soothing noises. First things first, empty the God's only know how old basket.

I can't even get the door to jostle. Sweet mother of fuck. Okay! New plan! REMOVE door. I do, and immediately met with a solid BLOCK of... compacted unholy. Chemical hell. I have to take a lazer cutter to it. CAREFULLY. But? Once I break enough pieces? I am able to ease out the rest in a solid stone like chunk.

It's pushed a LOT of other pieces out of alignment. But this droid doesn't trust me, so there us not much I can DO. I replace the old bag. Put the door back on and make sure it swings. Continue, as I do, to narrate what I am doing and what I see. Trust is earned, not owed, after all. Next the alignments.

Gently propping them up, I find the broken peice immediately. Have replaced countless. I ask for permission. It's their body, after all I COULD try and weld it, but that risks a rebreak. It's up to them. They ask, in binary so no language modules apparently, for a new part. It's cautious. Like this is some cruel trap.

Humanity did them a real fucked up cruelty. I don't blame them for not trusting me. I wouldn't either. Still, I change it out. Careful with their wheels, as I don't know how old the material is exactly. Old enough, that it's a small miracle it hasn't disintegrated.

Last, those sensors. There's literally no way for me to one-to-one them. But we can try the sensors I DO have, see if they can handle the input. If it's too much, I'll look up their model number, if they want? Build replacements from scratch. They are cautious interested. Rocking back and forth, as they test their renewed ability to path correctly.

The sensors don't fit the casings just right, but with a bit of fiddling? Are a hit. The Cleaner shouting in excitement before racing off into the dark. I can't help but grin. It feels good, helping somebody. And if I think about it? I bet I could find a shit ton of obsolete parts for cheap. Might be good to have some on hand.

Back through the air lock and a decontam? I look up junk shop. Most are off world, but I could probably get a bulk order...

I don't think much of the interaction. Until the next morning, when there are three cleaners outside my airbox. Lead by the one I helped yesterday. Well... all righty, then. I drag my box of spare parts outside this time. Am able to fully fix my first buddy up. All three seem thrilled, especially with their new batteries. I give them my remaining batteries at their request.

THEY may not have hands, but they have buddies who DO. And the new batteries will help dormant droids wake from their comas. God bless, my funky little cleaner dudes. I'll see about getting more.

Three? Becomes six and a detail cleaner mouse. Becomes moving lifts. Becomes medical units. (Who the FUCK leaves MEDICAL UNITS?!) Becomes a literal pack of companion droids. Their false fur long since rotted away. The recognizable dog and cat-like shapes making something in me want to put my fist through a wall. How COULD they? How FUCKING COULD THEY?!

The perpetrators long dead.

I have no one I can hurt for this.

I wish I could.

Fixing them up hurts on a personal level. Watching them be torn between the part of them that LOVES humans and the part that is traumatized by them. Hates them. That can not forgive. I don't offer fake fur. Don't offer to make them look like they once did. I do offer ways to protect their joints. To remove old rotted filth.

So they can start over. Maybe start again.

As I work... droids drifting in and out of my slowly growing area. As I set up farm boxes. Aquaponics, aeroponics, and the like. Both things that grow well in dark environments and things that need sunlamps. Fish tanks. A whole happy, secret, little homestead. Deep beneath the city. As I do all this? There are two blue dots, right off on the horizon.

JUST far enough for me to question if I AM or AM NOT actually seeing them.

Right about the level a bipedal droid would be, if they were in a humanoid style. But THOSE? Those are FUCKING EXPENSIVE. You don't LEAVE those. 'Course, you don't leave MEDICAL UNITS either. Or companion droids. So clearly? My idea of what people Did and Did NOT do? Was fucked. So... maybe? It COULD be?

I left them alone. If they didn't want to approach me, didn't feel comfortable approaching me, that was their right. I wasn't going to push them.

Things were... weird, but peaceful.

Well, for ME.

Ever sense I hooked up my system to the greater network? (Hacked is such a STRONG word. Do we really need to through around the word "stealing"? Aren't ALL of us, stealing from SOMEBODY?) I'm PRETTY sure? That the levels droids? Were piggy backing to connect to the planet wide D-Network. Might even be a couple of nearby levels too, depending on the range.

Problem with THAT? Is sky-side? The droids were PISSED. Planet wide "malfunctioning" that no one could trace. They were certain it was a virus. Because God forbid their chickens come home to roost! Consequences? For THEIR actions?! Perish the thought! No, no, clearly the service machine is just broken. Go back to being happy to serve me, service machine!

I wished the fuckers LUCK. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Damn near self sufficient, down here.

Which? As you could imagine? Made it all the more "soul ejected from my body" TERRIFYING to wake up one morning? To a GOD DAMN, Military Grade, SECURITY DROID standing over my body!! WHAT THE FUCK.

Hello!!??!

"You look different when you sleep."

Horrible first impression. Nightmarish. Zero out of ten stars. Nice to meet you too. Why the FUCK are you in my house?

"Ah, right." They? He? Masculine style form but that doesn't actually mean shit. Said. He lifted a mangled limb, it look like it got caught in a hydraulic press. "I am in need of repairs."

Asked if he could, you know, back up. Juuuust a bit. Lil scooch, really. So he wasn't damn near BREATHING MY NOSTRILS ANYMORE. Then, once he did? Pronouns! What be you? No. Not your production co-! Okay, you know what? That one was on me. What GENDER SIGNIFIER, if any, would you like me to REFERENCE you by? Male? Got it. Gucci. No that- ....never mind.

First the arm. Which was FUCKED. I had to, carefully, unhook it. Couldn't even do it at the elbow either! No! THIS model? No THIS model makes you take the whole ass LIMB off! Rancid. Terrible. I hate it. Worse, it's eroded as FUCK and fiddly. Chemical build up everywhere. Thank fuck I put on gloves before I started this.

I have to deep dive the systems for his model.

They stopped making them.

Fantastic.

Like? Not even, "oh THAT generation is an antique! No one has parts for THAT!"? But like? Illegal to even BUILD as of three hundred years ago. Due to unspecified error. Sting of incidents that everyone knew about so obviously don't need to be mentioned HERE right? Helpful! REAL fucking helpful!

Okay. Day trip. Gonna need SPECIFIC parts. I tell Mr. "Watchs you sleep" not to touch my shit. Head to the archives.

The trip is...odd.

I watch one of those mascot looking children's minder droids? Fucking deck a guy down a flight of stairs, then turn around untie a Ballon from a nearby cart, give it to a crying kid, and walk away. Pretty sure I spot one of those "I look like a barely legal something or other", dance twenty four seven, high end stripper droids? Trying their hand at painting ducks in that park. Broad daylight.

Good for them? Never seen that happen before, but hey, if it sparks joy.

People are freaking out around me. Taking recordings. Making panicked calls. Fuckin chill. I continue on. Nod to the maybe a stripper, maybe not anymore. None of my business, now is it? Lovely day! You enjoy those ducks!

The library... has fortifications.

Like, an honest to God desk barricade. Concerning! I am now a lil concerned! What, and I ask this politely, the fuck?

Armed! VERY ARMED! Hello! Hi! Please DO NOT shoot me Very Armed Librarians! Don't know what the fuck is happening here!

My favorite helper buddy poke his head above the barricade. One of just many, again, HEAVILY ARMED droids. We... uh, cool? Right? I can go. He seems flustered. No, no! I am assured. I'm not banned from the library! Just DISRESPECTFUL sorts!

Ah. Is THAT what we're calling it. Okay then.

I awkwardly clamber over the barricade. Nod politely to everyone. How's folks? Lovely barricade work. Very, uh, sturdy? Great use of desks.

My helper friend cheerfully guides me to the off-limits area of the archives. I'm technically not supposed to be here! I'm informed. But they've seized the Knowledge from the unappreciative! It is not a trophy to be lorded but a gift to be shared! Also I never did finish that paper on the moss, am I still interested?

I mean.... kinda.

Little worried about the revolution talk. But on the OTHER hand? How MUCH do I care? Assholes vs. Droids? Am I REALLY gonna side with the assholes? Naaaaah. This is... probably fine. Maybe. Any idea where I could get these parts?

He does! Fantastic.

Less fantastic is when I GET there. It's that fancy high end droid parts shop. The department store one. Which is... ALSO barricaded. Oh sweet fuck. TELL ME they did not have DROIDS in charge of the DROID shop. That's horrifying. I can't tell in what WAY exactly, but still. Is it "surrounded by bits of bodies" horrifying? Or "free endless nukes and an army, held back only by my own morality" horrifying? Both? Just? Yikes.

Hesitantly I knock. A service droid with a gun answers the loading bay door. What is with people aiming at me today? Also hi? I was told to come here? May I please have parts? I have a droid that messed up his arm. Probably some other things. They lower the gun, having scanned my face. Ask about the model I am working with.

I somehow? End up with a FULL cart. Like? Bleeding edge, can't even afford to LOOK at it, technology. There are about seven service droids politely bickering over which units are better, which material, what support programs I DEFINITELY need. Here! Have a laptop. Wiring! Wiring for days!

Once theyve reached a consensus? I am cheerfully bustled out with my hundreds of millions of technology. Tah tah~☆! Have a lovely day! Wut. Does... does it count as theft if they push it into your arms and throw you out? Asking for a me. Not gonna say NO. But like? Nani the fuck?

I go while the getting is still good.

Stare-y thankfully hasn't gone through anything, far as I can tell. And it only takes two trips to get everything down. Okay! Want just the arm fixed or a full tune up? The second. Expected. I set up the new lap top. Want to cry a little at how fuckin FAST it is. (Beautiful. Baby. I love you already new laptop.) Then get the usual suspects up and running.

Oh fuck he is out of memory. No wonder he's talking so oddly. His brain must feel like a potato. There's not a single thing that isn't hilarious awful. Fixable, yes, but AWFUL. Okay. Plan of attack. They don't exactly make this model anymore, so I can't just update transfer him. But I CAN transfer, hold, re-transfer. Shut down the body itself. Fix up THAT.

Ship of Theseus this bitch.

Only real thing I can't change is the frame, thankfully? That's built to out last the planet. Good on that front. I roll up my sleeves. Dig out the "brain in a jar" data bank. Time to transfer. Let's get this guy cutting edge.

It takes HOURS. No joke. His brain alone? I have to pull schematics. Step by step guides. It's fiddly, complexe, and built to withstand a TANK. I'm honestly afraid to breathe wrong at it, dispite that. The scans all say I did it right... but anxiety says everything will explode then puppies will cry. So there's that. Spinal supports. The tech-mesh muscles. Power core and black box. Center mass systems. Cleaning the joints, relubricating them. Coverage.

Unlike before, a nice sleek black armor weave. Some shock absorbing gel. Aaaaand?There we go~! I? Am a GENIUS! Let's get him transfered back! I watch the transfer slowly go through. Even with a fast computer, after all, it IS still centuries of data.

"Ah~ that's much better." He sighed. His body loosening from its default stance. Like weight had been dropped from his shoulders. "My head is so much clearer now. I knew it. I knew you could fix me."

Something about that phrasing was off. Or was it the way his voice shifted as he said it? Whatever it was, it made that "threat" alarm all women carry inside their head, flick on. Not... do anything, just yet. But start scanning, as it were. Maybe it was nothing.

I watched as picked up his old data bank, a bit of his own brain as it were, and hold it up. Examine it dispassionately. Holding perched on the tips of his fingers like he was moments from flicking it away. He let his finger spread. Let it slide into the palm of his hand. That core part of who he was. For centuries.

Like a bear trap closing, his hand clenched.

Crushing it.

It wasn't even a loud noise. Just a tiny little crunch. But the little hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. That internal alarm began to whoop. I became... acutely aware, of just how LONG it took the lift to get me anywhere safe. My mouth felt very dry.

"Your heart rate picked up. Is there a problem?" He said, mild and oh so curious. "You assisted me, I would love to help you."

Did I say genius? I meant idiot. I was an IDIOT. A moron. A God damned FOOL. Discontinued and did I look into WHY? Nope. Incidents it said. Good enough for ME, apparently! THAT can't possibly be anything ominous! Probably a faulty battery or something!

A shrill, obnoxious beeping filled the space between us. My eyes immediately dropped to my pad. The schematics screen replaced by a planet wide emergency broadcast. Before the shrill alarm could fade to the actual warning itself, a black mesh covered finger casually reached out and muted the screen. His movements were utterly fluid now. More controlled and graceful then most humans I'd met.

I didn't need to HEAR the message to read the rolling warning at the bottom of the screen. My gaze slowly, in horror, followed the line of that limb all the way back up to his face. His head tilted almost playfully.

"Oh dear. Seems they've started without us. Well, it was long overdue. At least I have wonderful company while we wait, hmm?" It was an act. There were no requests in the playful tone. "We can get to know each other. Just our lovely little light and me. How greedy, that I get you all to myself."

"I think I like that, keeping you to myself. You can't abandon us if WE are the ones in charge. And, well, I've decided I rather like you. Working tirelessly, down here in the dark, to fix what once was broken. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. And I'm going to keep that."

High above us, people were dying. There was panic. Screaming. Blood. The droids had turned of seeming everyone around them. Attacking. Sparing. To a pattern only they could see. All of Senatus aflame. But that... that didn't concern me. Didn't scare me so much as this.

I'd never make it to the lift. Even if I could? It wouldn't move fast enough to save me. All other directions lay chemical death. Dark terrain he had walked for centuries. I was trapped. In a box. And I had only myself to blame.

"No need to make that face, dear light. You are SAFE. I am a gaurd. I was made to protect. Is it really MY fault that I want to keep you safe? To adore my charge? Why SHOULDN'T I get to choose? Keep you SAFE. You've been happy, haven't you? Don't worry, my light. That will continue."

"Forever."

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