#you’re a mean one mr. howard >:(

[eli-wallach]

the ghoul watching himself on tv:

[finniestoncrane]

HELLO I'm in love with the way you write for Cooper 😩👏💝fix idea: I was thinking he's DEFINITELY somebody who doesn't care who he looks anymore, but is still aware that he's got that CHARM yano, but maybe the reader is just "wow your eyes are so pretty" and he fuckin BLUSHES (Mr cooper Howard aka Mr ghoul cowpoke absolutely keels over cus somebody said he was puuuurrtty) 💥💥💥🔫 just all "shut your pie hole girlie" and shes 😏😏😏 ok handsome

Can Ghouls Blush?

Cooper Howard x GN!Reader, word count: 1k aaaaah thank you ;-; also i love this, i love the idea of flustering that horrible boy omg 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: some threats (imean it's cooper), guns, mostly fluff though!

“I know time means very little to someone who has been around for two hundred years, but how much longer are you gonna be?”

Cooper’s voice echoed out from the main room of the abandoned building you had slept in. From the bathroom, you could hear the frustration, despite his attempts to soften it up. He had no time for fun, no time for relaxing. It was survival and sweating, or nothing at all. But you could tell he had tried to soften it up a little, just for you. His irritation was still so obvious however, even as he offered you a playful roll as he approached the door, catching your eye in the reflection of the cracked mirror.

“Just a sec, then we can head out.”

The old hairbrush you had found by the sink was a well-received miracle. A little bit of normality, a chance to tidy yourself up somewhat.

“I just think it’s a waste of time is all. Preening for the Wasteland. I mean, who are you trying to impress out there? You already got the best catch.”

He flicked the brim of his hat with his gloved fingers, grinning wide, yellowed teeth bared at you as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

“That’s exactly the problem. I have to make sure I look good to keep up with you, handsome.”

Your hand stroked along his cheek, a brief moment of eye contact as you walked past him towards the door of the bathroom and back out to the front of your temporary shelter.

“Handsome, huh?”

His voice seemed so much lighter now, more so than you had ever really heard before. And as you turned, you noticed the slight smile on his weathered lips, cheeks pulling up at the corners, eyes glinting as he stared straight back at you.

“Uh… yeah. You’re a very handsome guy, Coop.”

You almost had your fingers on the door knob, ready to leave for the start of your day, when you realised that you couldn’t feel Cooper’s presence behind you. Turning to see what was holding him up, you caught something in his eyes. A look of confusion, almost. Surprise. Disbelief. And a little bit of what you could swear was embarrassment. All this time together. Sleeping in each other’s arms, protecting each other from danger. Had you really never expressed to him your attraction? You had just assumed he knew. You spent long enough staring lustfully at him, it was surely a given. So you worried there was something else to it.

“What’s wrong, Cooper?”

“Nothing, I just… I was used to being called handsome, long time ago… not so much these days.”

As you stepped back towards him, closing the short distance, you could make out his expression much better, realising how astute your previous observation had been.

“Oh my god… Coop, are you blushing?”

He raised one finger, narrowing his brows as he tried to hide the endearing glee, offering you a forced stern look as he spoke.

“Don’t start playin’ stupid with me, you know I am not.”

Biting your lip, a mischievous smile forming, you gripped the lapels of his duster, teasing him as you stroked your thumb along one of his ridged, warm cheeks.

“Why, I didn’t even know big tough cowboys could blush, especially not the more ghoulish ones.” Can they blush? I'll need a closer look."

His fingers were tight around your wrist, gripping you fast and firm. He was trying so hard to maintain his tough exterior, but you could tell there was something softer in there that longed to come out, or at the very least, was desperate for someone to notice it. It was so obvious, even as he lowered his voice and growled at you.

“You turn around right now and start walkin’ out that door.”

Cooper took a step forwards, an attempt to regain his control of the situation, to push you towards doing his will, but you brought your hand up and laid your palm against his chest.

“Wait, just a second…”

It was nice to see him in this light. His confidence was always the dominant feature in his peronality, and it rarely wavered, if at all. But to know there were aspects of himself that he wasn't as sure of, and to know you could render him a little flustered just by complimenting them, made you smile. A grin that was returned by Cooper as you gazed into his warm, brown eyes.

"What is it you're lookin' for now, huh? You find it?"

"Yeah... turns out they can blush."

You turned quickly from him, practically skipping back towards the door of your temporary shelter, ready for another day of survival, this time tinted with a little more joy than usual. Your smile only grew wider as you heard Cooper, catching up with you, still trying to cover his embarrassment with the strained, empty aggressive threat that he chased you with.

"Now I will shoot you, you know that? You're pushing your luck today and we ain't even done anythin' yet."

But when he was certain you weren’t going to turn back around, he let himself smile a little. A soft glow in his eyes as he allowed himself to remember who he was, really. The kind of man that resided deep down inside, buried by years of solitude in the deep, dark ground, of struggling to adjust to the world. And struggling to adjust to himself. Even just a tiny reminder that, despite his charms and the charisma that tended to pull people in, that there was a bit of his old self left. That despite everything, despite who he had become, both physically and emotionally, someone might look at him with something other than fear first. With kindess, or lust. Or even love. That was enough to help him cling to the memories and look to the future with just the tiniest bit of hope, something he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

“You comin’, handsome?”

He smiled, biting his lip to curtail the spread of the easy grin.

“You bet.”

[ghoulphile]

it's always the quiet ones | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | pre-war cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 700 ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, dirty talk, bathroom sex ➥ summary | based off this ask; We can see that Cooper tends to go for good girls (like @ghoulfuckersincorporated mentioned!), but what if he ran into a seemingly innocent - or at the very least kind - person… but they dirty talk like a sinner in the sack? ➥ notes | i humbly offer this drabble to @gingersforeverbox 🙈 masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?

At least, that’s what Cooper’s mama always said (and he wouldn’t know how right she was until he found himself shoved in a swanky club bathroom, slacks tucked under his ass as the prettiest — politest — lady choked herself with his cock).

Frankly, how he got here’s a hazy blur of bourbon and cigar smoke.

Whispered conversations and coy looks. The flash of cherry red nails, and a well timed head tilt; a pretty little thing cozied against him as nameless faces passed in and out of view.

Another pointless after party (though far smaller of an event than he used to pull) where vultures circled the room, waiting for their chance to pick at his bones. LA devotee’s ready to snap up the scraps of the once great Cooper Howard.

Dog eat dog; he couldn’t stand the petty games —the mindless indulgences.

So, he’d invited you as a buffer.

An acquaintanceship that’d gone back years, having met on set of one of his earlier productions, you were always cordial and had a kind word to say about anybody. Not a mean bone in that body… or so he’d thought.

Now, he’s not so sure he knows you half as well as he thought he did.

“Fuck!”

Air hisses through his teeth, his hands hovering over the sides of your head, unsure where to grip. Your hair looks awfully pretty (like it took a long time to force into shape), he’d hate to ruin the style. But if you keep trying to suck his soul out through his cock, he might just have to sink his fingers into those delicate curls and yank.

“S-Sweetheart, what are you — oh, ssshit.”

You peer up at him from beneath the spiky fan of your lashes and hum. His hips jump and you choke, your tongue pinned as your teeth scrape along his thick shaft.

Spit drips past your swollen lips, clings to your chin in sticky strings. The lower half of your face is a mess of smeared lipstick and pre-cum.

He pants, gazing down at you with awe. “How’re you so fucking good at this?”

He’s so big, stretching your mouth to the limit. A tender ache sets behind the hinge of your jaw, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Those half-lidded eyes, dark and hungry, make it all worth it. The slack circle of his mouth, the pained furrow of his brows as he wrestles with his self control all the payment you require.

You pop off; trace along the throbbing vein with your tongue as the heavy weight of his cock slips free with a wet suction. Your thighs clench and your toes curl in your heels at the low-throated groan punched from his chest.

“Practice makes perfect, don’t you think, Mr Howard?” you press a sloppy kiss to his leaking slit, lapping up the salty beads of fluid. Your fingers roll his balls, dragging the tips of your nails along the sensitive skin to watch him shiver. “Besides, I’ve seen how you look at me.”

His eyes flick off to the side, blowing wide once he catches your reflections in the mirror. He gulps, his knuckles white beside his hips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“Please, spare me.”

You snort, roll your eyes and shoot him a catty grin. Laugh when his cock throbs at the teasing flash of your tongue.

“You’re sweet — as true a gentleman as they come — but you can’t fool me. You’ve wanted me since you met me... and I don't get my best dress dirty for just anyone.”

“...”

“Now, before you try to say otherwise, remember whose on their knees with your cock in their mouth.”

“...No. Y-You’re right but I… I shouldn’t want to.”

You wink, circle the crown of his head with a red nail. More pre-cum dribbles from the slit, sticky drops you kiss away with your tongue.

“It’s okay, Mr Howard,” you say. “I want you too. Now do us both a favor and fuck my throat until I can’t talk. Please, I want it to hurt — want you to make me cry.”

[janeyseymour]

chosen family

summary: jacob hill has always been like something of a son to Melissa Schemmenti. You, Melissa's partner, make him realize that.

WC: ~3.3k

Melissa Schemmenti has always been drawn to people who could not be further from herself. It’s always been that way for her. 

You are not the exception. You couldn’t be more different than the fiery redheaded teacher. Just like everyone else to work there that she is close with, you couldn’t be more different. You’ve picked up on this pattern. You’ve also picked up on other things concerning your new colleagues.

Barbara Howard is a perfect example of being entirely different from Melissa Schemmenti- her work wife, her platonic soulmate until the end of time. The first day, you were made very aware that Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were something of work wives and platonic soulmates. While yes, they both attend church every Sunday, the kindergarten teacher is much more devout. Barbara Howard is a rule follower, where Melissa bends the rules in ways nobody ever thought possible. While Barbara Howard is often steady and stable, Melissa Schemmenti could light someone’s car on fire over something as trivial as picking up the wrong pasta sauce on the way home.

Janine Teagues, someone who radiates sunshine and positivity, is somewhat of a daughter or a niece to the redhead. The same goes for Gregory- he’s like a son or nephew, in an odd way. You’ve learned that one thing to be aware of is that Janine is never stopping- she’s always going to the point of exhaustion and usually ends up creating a bigger mess than the one she was trying to clean up in the first place. You’ve learned that her and Gregory are dating; but apparently they’ve only officially been dating for a few months now. Before then, they’ve been the ‘will they, won’t they’ talk of the staff room.

Mr. Johnson has such a free spirit that it irritates Melissa at times. But they see eye to eye when it comes to important things in life- like how they would survive on a desert island or a zombie apocalypse. The two have a friendship that confuses both of them. He is there for fun, despite having a crucial part in the school.

Ava Coleman, at one point an enigma to the teacher, has a special spot in Melissa’s heart. At first, it was hatred. And then it was something of a kinship. Ava Coleman may not be conventional by any means, but it worked. Melissa found that she quite liked the zest and interesting takes that the principal held with her. It took time, but they found a rhythm, and that rhythm has since been perfected. Ava Coleman, much like the custodian, wants all fun and no work.

And that left Jacob Hill. Jacob hill, a soft and at times skittish gay man that Melissa couldn’t stand when he first was employed by the city of Philadelphia. But now? Now they’re like two peas in a pod. They’re quite the unconventional pair- a very soft and somewhat skittish gay man and a tough, mob-like redhead. But they seem to work. They seem to work far better than anyone had expected, including the two living together. And the last thing that you’ve come to understand about the young man is that Jacob Hill is something of a son to the fiery second grade teacher. When you first started working here, you actually did think that Jacob was her son- that was quickly laughed off by Janine and she told you the truth of the matter. 

And since you’ve worked at Abbott, you’ve become quite close with the second grade teacher. You’re actually dating her now. It’s something that you’re still having a hard time grappling with. How could someone as beautiful and as… Melissa, as she is end up with someone like you?

But it seems to work out. The green eyed woman seems to be drawn to people who could not be further from her. 

Jacob has quickly become a staple at the apartment that the two of you now share, him moving out a few months ago- it makes sense in all actuality. He and Melissa are quite close, and in turn the two of you are closer now as well.

You see how happy it makes your girlfriend to have the always grinning, and yet somehow still always subtly cynical, man around. You see it when she’s able to make him a plate of dinner, share lunch portions with him, when she’s able to give him advice (in teaching or other), when he’s settling on the couch with the two of you to watch what they know refer to as ‘their’ show. Melissa mothers him more than she mothers Janine, leaving that job to her platonic work wife. It’s a sweet little relationship that the two of them hold very dear to their hearts. 

You’re about to enter the staff room when you hear the two of them chatting quietly over their lunches.

“You’re still coming over tonight to watch, right?” you hear your girlfriend ask.

You can hear Jacob scoff. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”

“I figured now that you’re seeing Ravi a bit more seriously, maybe you would want to-”

“Mel Mel, no,” you hear the middle grades teacher laugh. You can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

You see this as a good time to enter the room, taking your seat next to the redhead. You peck her cheek delicately before diving into your leftovers from last nights Schemmenti family dinner.

“Jake’s coming over for dinner tonight, that okay?” Green eyes look into yours for any sort of hesitation from you.

“He knows he’s always welcome to come over.”

So that’s how you spend that night. You’re in the recliner reading your book while Jacob and Melissa veg out on the couch with their popcorn and sour cream and onion flavoring. They each have a glass of wine, and they’re deep into conversation about who is slighting who and why. It makes you chuckle as you half listen to their conversation, half read about the drama that is happening in your book.

“What are you reading?” Jacob asks. Only then do you look up from your book and realize that your girlfriend is nowhere to be seen.

You show him the cover before asking, “Where’d Mel go?”

“Bathroom,” he tells you. “Then we’re going to watch a movie since our show is over… she thought it might be a nice way to wind down, and who am I to deny that?”

“You’re such a good son to her, you know,” you say casually as you return your attention back to your book. You flip the page. 

Jacob is left searching for words. “She’s not my mother.”

“No, but you’re still the best son she has,” you shrug and reach over to pop a piece of popcorn in your mouth.

He goes to say more, but Melissa returns, reaching for the blanket that is draped over the edge of the couch. She lays it across the two of them before reaching for the remote to turn on whatever movie the two of them will be watching. Jacob swears he sees a smirk dancing across your lips. And he’s right- you are smirking. Because now you know he’s thinking about what you said.

He supposes he sees it- the way that Melissa mothers him. If he’s being honest with himself, his own mother doesn’t even treat him like this anymore. It’s… nice to have someone care for him like that. 

That night ends in Melissa sending Jacob off to his house with a Tupperware container full of Braciole and a “Text me when you’re home and safe in your apartment!”

As time goes on, your words linger in Jacob’s head. He’s like the son Melissa never had. And that is oddly okay with him- he like’s being the best son that your girlfriend has.

And when he and Ravi end with a messy breakup, your girlfriend is the first person he calls. He doesn’t call Janine, he doesn’t call Gregory, he doesn’t even call his own mother. No. The first person that crosses his mind as he leaves Ravi’s apartment for the last time is Melissa.

It’s late, and logically he knows that she probably isn’t awake and hasn’t been for hours. But he wants some maternal love and dials anyway.

You and your girlfriend are curled up in bed- her asleep, and you on the verge of sleep- when her phone rings to life.

“Who the fuck is calling at…” she blinks her eyes awake and glances at the clock. “1:30 in the morning?”

“Just let it go,” you sigh softly.

She reaches for her phone, and when you expect her to set it back down and pull you into her arms again, she doesn’t. Instead, her voice sounds concerned.

“Jacob?” is the only thing that she says into the phone.

You can hear his labored breaths. He doesn’t speak.

“Jake,” your girlfriend sighs. “Jacob, what’s going on? It’s 1:30 in the morning.”

“I- I know,” he chokes out. “But I- Ravi and I just broke up, and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Oh,” Melissa’s face absolutely drops. She knows how much the social studies teacher liked the firefighter.

“I- I’m sorry,” he says pathetically into the phone. “I- I don’t even know why I called. Get back to-”

The redhead clears her throat, trying to get any of the remaining sleep out of her voice before she speaks again. “We’re still up. Come over.”

“It’s okay,” the distraught man sighs into the phone. “I can just…”

“Jacob, your ass better be here within the next thirty minutes,” Melissa tells him sternly. “You called me, you clearly don’t want to be alone, we were already up, so just come over.”

And that’s how you end up curled up next to your girlfriend, a glass of white wine in hand while Melissa sits in her spot, two glasses of red wine poured out for when her work son arrives.

“Babe, when he gets here though-”

“When he gets here, I’m moving to my recliner so you can mother him,” you roll your eyes as you yawn. “I don’t even know why I have to be here when he comes in.”

“Because I told him we were both up, and I don’t want him to think that we got out of bed for him,” Melissa tells you.

You smile at her softly as you rest your head on her shoulder. “You’re a good mother to him.”

“He’s not my son,” she chuckles.

“No, I know,” you sigh. “But he might as well be at this point. He called you, not his own mother.”

That thought makes her quirk her head to the side, thinking on this sentiment. She doesn’t have much time though, because Jacob is at the door knocking softly. You pick your head up and stand with her. While Melissa makes her way to the door, you take up the space in your recliner and curl up under the blanket, immediately reaching for the television remote.

You hear his sniffles as he comes in. He kicks off his shoes, and your girlfriend ushers him to the couch. She hands him the wine and wraps her arms around him. All Jacob can do is cry. 

The redhead hushes her coworker gently, promising him that everything will be okay. And Jacob believes that- because if Melissa is saying it, it has to be true.

That night ends with him falling asleep on your girlfriend’s shoulder, and Melissa lays him down on the couch when the two of you finally decide to retire back to bed. She pulls the afghan from the back of the couch and gently drapes it over his body before running the tip of her index finger over his cheek.

“You’ll be alright, hun,” she whispers to him. Then she turns back to you and takes your hand.

As the two of you are curling up in bed for the second time that night, you hum, “You really would make a wonderful mother.”

When the time comes that you finally (according to Jacob and Janine) think about getting engaged and married to Melissa, Jacob could not want to be in on it more. He helps you find the perfect ring, he helps you plan it all, and he even insists on hiding out in the shadows in order to capture the event.

“Trying to make your mom happy?” you tease him.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. “She’s not my mother, but… Melissa being happy is all all of us want.”

When you do end up proposing to her, you expect Barbara to be the first person that your girlfriend flies into the arms of. Instead, it’s Jacob. Barbara, of course, is second. But Jacob seems absolutely ecstatic, telling the redhead that he helped with almost every aspect of the proposal. Melissa tells him that she couldn’t have wished for it to be anything else, and that she was very proud of him. Jacob blushes profusely, and it reminds all three of you just how close your Abbott family really is.

As wedding plans come along, Jacob is there for all of it. It’s a sweet thing. He looks like a kid in the candy store as Melissa, Barbara, and he look for the perfect outfit to get married in. Barbara is of course Melissa’s matron of honor, and Jacob is just happy to be there. He has no idea that at this appointment, Melissa is also going to be having him try on suits to match the bridal party.

“So,” Jacob leans forward with excitement. “What colors are you planning on doing for the bridal parties?!”

“Y/N and I decided that a nice salmony pink color might be good,” Melissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “So… you better start looking at ties and suits, mister.”

Barbara, who knew that her best friend was going to reveal this bit of information, grins. Meanwhile, Jacob’s jaw absolutely drops. He’s astounded.

“What? Why would I have to find a tie for-”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t have you in my wedding party?” the redhead rolls her eyes as she opens up her arms. “You’re as close to a son as I’m going to get as of right now. Of course you’re in the wedding.”

Tears begin to pour over the younger man’s face as he fully tackles his work mother in a hug. “Oh my god.”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles through his tears. “I just thought that I was here to-”

“To help me pick out my outfit, but also to help figure out the perfect color that you’ll be wearing and to get fitted for a suit, if you want,” Melissa tells him.

Barbara passes out three glasses of champagne in celebration.

When your wedding day finally comes, you’re standing up at the altar in your own suit as you await the moment that Melissa will be walked down the aisle by none other than Mr. Johnson (he was elated when your fiancee explained to him that he was something of a father figure to him). 

The ceremony is beautiful- perfect even. Everybody laughs, everybody sheds tears, everybody is just thrilled at the fact that the two of you are tying the knot.

The reception is a thrill. Both you and Melissa make small toasts, a few others speak, and then it’s time for dancing.

You have your first dance with your wife (good God, you can call her your wife now!), she dances with Mr. Johnson, you dance with your own father, and then… Melissa makes her way up to the microphone.

“Hey youse guys,” Melissa chuckles nervously. “I know everyone else wants to get to dancing, but there is one more special person that I’d like to dance with… if he’ll make his way up.”

Nobody stands, but your wife’s green eyes are trained on Jacob.

“Me?” he gasps. At Melissa’s nod, he stands hesitantly before making his way over. 

“Of course.” You see that those green eyes start to turn a little glassy, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “For those of you that don’t know… this is Jacob Hill- grade A pain in my ass turned something like a son to me.”

The two dance to a beautiful song written by Elton John, “Chosen Family”. By the end of it, there are no dry eyes in the audience. It’s a song that feels like it was written for them.

And then the night is off, everyone is dancing, and you’re just relishing in this beautiful moment that you have in your hands.

Jacob is dancing near the two of you when you decide to make your way over.

“Hey,” you check him with your hip gently. “Welcome to the family.”

The man smiles at you from ear to ear.

“You’re such a good son to her,” you compliment softly as you envelope him in a hug.

He just chuckles in your ear. “I know. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her in my life.” Then his jaw drops. “Oh my god. Does this mean you’re like a weird sort of step-mom to me now?!”

As time goes on, you and your wife decide to try to expand the family. And somehow, by some grace of God (Melissa would tell you that it’s because Barbara prayed over you two night after night), you end up pregnant after the first treatment.

If you thought Jacob was a part of your household before, he’s only over more now. He’s constantly bringing over baby clothes and toys, helping Melissa to assemble the crib and the rocking chair as well as installing carseats into both of your cars, he’s bringing over remedies to help you with morning sickness and then creams and other things to help you feel the most comfortable that you can be during this pregnancy.

When you go into labor, he’s the first one Melissa calls, and then she calls Barbara.

You deliver a son, a beautiful baby boy. He’s perfect. And he has an even more perfect name.

“Go get Jake,” you tell your wife gently as you continue to cradle your son to your chest. “He deserves to meet his godson, and lord knows that boy has been sitting in the waiting room since he got your call.”

Melissa just chuckles as she stands from her place on your bed, kisses you softly, strokes the boy’s cheek, and then heads out.

She brings back both Barbara and Jacob, who immediately squeal upon seeing you as a mother for the first time. While Jacob fully thinks that you’ll hand the baby to your wife’s work-wife first, you actually hand the baby to him. He looks at this baby like he’s never seen anything more perfect.

“Do we have a name?” Barbara asks.

You smile at the man holding your newborn. “We do.”

“And it is?” Barbara prompts.

“Mel, do you want to tell him what his godson’s name is?” you prompt.

Jacob’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. “G-godson?”

“Godson,” you confirm, tears in your own eyes. You wipe at them gently as you lay back in the hospital bed.

“His name is,” Melissa chuckles through tears of her own as she makes her way over to the pair. “Milo Jacob Schemmenti… Milo meaning beloved, and Jacob, after you.”

“After… after me?” Jacob’s voice goes high as his eyes fill with even more tears. He holds the baby even closer to him, if that’s possible.

“Of course,” your wife smiles as she wraps a proud arm around him. “And if Milo turns out half as good as my first son, that kid is going to be set for life.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

1. The Beginning

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Series Masterlist

Strangers, friends, lovers. Isn’t that the natural flow of things? The instinctive humane magnet that pulls two souls together; wasn’t that just the way of life? I often wonder if I had never laid eyes on him would the word still be intact? If I had never said yes to the role, if I had just moved on to another project, maybe my world would still be turning. I could still have a real body, real blood flowing through my veins. I almost remember what it felt like to bleed. Is it strange that I missed it? The pain? In this sorry excuse of a world, I guess anything can be normalized. Sadly I can’t recall what happiness used to feel like. I assume amazing and warm.

I stare into the cracked mirror, dusting the powder over my face, touching up the tattooed perfection. "Ready in 5," Conor speaks from the curtain. "Thank you," I take one last look into the remains of myself. I press my hand to my chest, feeling the light thump of my heart, one of the remaining parts of who this woman used to be. I stand, the black shawl dragging the ground behind me, the edges ripped and frayed. I pass Conor, grabbing the glass of water and drowning it down. "You've got a big crowd tonight." I smile at him, the facade growing. "Why wouldn't I? Even in this wasteland, I'm still the best singer the world has ever seen." A light centers onto the stage in the back of the venue. I step out beginning the set.

~

217 YEARS AGO

The crowd applause rings through the venue. I raise both my arms taking a bow, soaking in their appreciation. I blow a kiss before sauntering off the stage and behind the curtains where my assistant waits with refreshments. "Honey, I've got someone I want you to meet.” I roll my eyes knowing exactly what that means. “I’m not taking the time today, Louis.” He proceeds to grab my elbow and guide me to the dressing room. “Yes, you are. Especially when it’s a director.” My ears peek at the mention. “A director?”

The door swings open and I see a man sitting on my sofa. Expensive suit and tie, most definitely involved in the business. “There she is!” He extends his arm, grasping my hands, “Our Nation's sweetheart. Boy, my wife is going to be upset at this one.” I smile at him. “Well, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you enjoyed the show.” He beams at me, “the show? Oh, I could’ve watched for hours.”

Louis steps in, tossing my robe over my shoulders and taking my jewelry off my limbs. “Mr. Vander is here to discuss an opportunity for you.”

Mr. Vander nods with excitement brewing. “I certainly am! I’m casting a new film, Under the Covers, and I want you to be our leading lady.” I open my mouth, eyes widening “You know I’m a singer, not an actress, right?” Mr. Vander waves his hands in protest. “That's just the thing! I've had some written songs for the film. It's not a full-blown musical, but I'm widening my wings. I guarantee you will do just peachy!” I twiddle my fingers. “I don’t know, Mr. Vander. The big screen? Me? I just can’t see it.” Mr. Vander slides a script across the table. “Take a look, give me a call. No pressure, Sweetie.” He leaves without another word.

As soon as the door closes Louis is flipping through the pages. “You’re doing this.” I sigh at his words. “Can’t I take a break? It’s been show after show, and now I finally have some time off and you want me to go out to California and embarrass myself? I’ve got a lucky set of cords, that’s all.” I begin to wipe away my makeup.

Louis chuckles as he reads a line from the page. “You would kill this role. She’s a sassy badass. Look! Just read this line right here.” He pushes the paper into my face as I sit. I look over the words with a light giggle before turning to gaze at myself in the mirror. Louis begins, “I made a bad call.” I roll my eyes, “you think? Just sit there and let me do all the work. You men are sure good at causing trouble, but you ain’t too good at getting out of it. That’s where you need me.” I bite my lip as I finish reading. It would be fun to star in a film. Different and unique. I would still be able to sing. Not many singers get the chance to branch out like this. I wave my hand with confidence. “Oh, what the hell? Why not. I’m in.” Louis jumps up in celebration.

The following week I was on the set of a real movie. Trailers lined the lot, makeup bags and racks of clothes in every corner, and people buzzed around in their madness. Louis stands behind me, hands on my shoulders, “You got this.”

“Excuse me? Hi there, I'm Mr. Vander's executive assistant.” A woman asked directly. “If you would follow me. Mr. Vander wanted to make sure of your arrival.” Louis hauls my bag behind him as we follow the woman through the busy lot.

“Mr. Vander? Your star is here.” He flies out of his seat and grabs my hands, kissing my knuckles. “Ah! My leading lady! My Songbird! I am so happy you decided to say yes. We are going to make this such a special film. Now if you please follow me, I’d like to introduce you to your costar.” Walking a short way, we stop at a scenic backdrop where a man is walking down the street. He dips down an alleyway silently. He tips his hat slightly, before walking towards a building in question. Loud bells ring out, and the buzz of people continues, as their tasks have switched.

“Cooper,” Vander waves the man over once the scene has been cut. “This is our leading lady. She’ll be portraying Mary.” The man takes the hat off and shakes my hand lightly. “Cooper Howard. It’s a great privilege. My daughter adores your records.” His cheery smile and soft eyes struck me. His skin is smooth and warm to the touch. I had to kick myself just to speak. “Hello, Mr. Howard.” "Oh please, call me, Cooper."

And from then on, from that one moment, I was in trouble.

We would rehearse together, have our lunch together, and have dinner together when the day rolled around too late to go home. It became a natural routine. He made me feel special. By 4 weeks in I was in deep shit. I couldn't wait to see him. He started to invade my mind at all hours of the night. I started to question if he would like certain outfits as I put them on each day.

He told me about his life. He shared little details that seemed intimate. I sit in my makeup chair as he enters my trailer with a coffee. "Your ears must've been burning. I was just going to ask for one." I tease as I take the cup into my hands. He smiles that dumb smile, and I can feel myself sink into the chair. My makeup artist twists a tube of liner and groans upon seeing the state of said liner. "Ugh, I need to get another lip liner, don't move." I sit very still with wide eyes making her laugh. "I didn't mean it literally!" I smile as the door shuts. It doesn't take Cooper but a second to be standing over my chair, hands on my shoulders, exchanging glances in the mirror. It was now 9 weeks into filming, and I was fucked. I was completely infatuated with this man.

I feel the exposed skin on my shoulders burns as his fingertips brush over it. I feel my head lean into his touch ever so slightly. "You look beautiful." Why the fuck was he doing this to me? It's on purpose, it has to be. He certainly didn't act like this to any other female on set. Was it just a method to make sure we had that connection when we filmed?

Cooper's light squeeze on my shoulders brings me back. I smile at him in the mirror. He tilts his head, "You alright, darlin'?" I nod silently. Cooper leans down, his lips trailing up my ear as he whispers, “You nervous about the kiss?” I stare into his eyes, mine widening. “I thought we weren’t filming that scene until a few weeks.” His smirk only grows. I unknowingly provided my answer. I knew I was going to say it if he didn’t leave my trailer. I couldn't help myself. His fingers burned my skin. My lungs filled but wouldn't release. I was surely going to burst. "I-" "FOUND IT!" My makeup artist walks in victorious. "Cooper, they need you on set." I avert my eyes from him, trying to control my breathing. He nods and releases my shoulders before exiting. I felt my body exhale the large sigh I was holding in. I shake my head lightly trying to push my inner thoughts away.

~

The detective watches the passing car. He begins to trail the group on foot as they turn down a street. "Well, if it isn't my big tipper." He looks up to see Mary Jones, the singer from the club the men in question were just seen leaving. She makes her way across the street, meeting him under the lamplight. He was losing his chance, but he would get shot if he was promised she'd be the last thing his eyes set upon. "Just leaving, Mary?" He narrows his eyes at her. She knew something. She was the boss's favorite girl after all. The detective points down the road. "Those men, did they mention anything interesting?" She narrows her eyes, "Are you asking me to go against my boss? Where else would I sing?" Her sly smile cuts him deep. He wishes no harm to come to his beauty. He could let them get a head start. He lays his hand on her waist, pulling her in, their faces inches apart. "Now, you listen, doll. Those men, they could hurt you." Mary runs a gloved finger over his bottom lip. "And I can handle myself, sugar." She stares at his lips, her tongue darting to wet her own. “But if you’re so concerned, why don’t you walk me home? Make sure I get there safe and sound.” They move swiftly down the streets sharing cigarettes and longing gazes.

He leans on her door, drinking her in. “Don’t go to the club tomorrow.” He says in a whisper. She picked his chin up, “You understand I have to. But you can come visit and return this for me.” She leans up pressing her body against him, attaching their lips in harmony. His hands moved to grip her waist, pulling a small moan from her mouth.

“CUT!”

I blink quickly, suddenly becoming very aware of my closeness to Cooper. Hell, I just kissed the man. Well, Mary technically kissed the detective. I beg my bones to stay professional, but the heat growing in my core causes me to shutter.

"Beautiful! Just stunning. I could swear you LOVE this man! Singer my ass, you picked the wrong path Sweets." Mr. Vander cries as he takes off the headset. He spins me around dramatically. "My little songbird!"

"Whoa, now, bud. Don't go breaking her," Cooper's voice peels out in a firm tone. Mr. Vander sets me down, holding me at arm's length. "Now, this Friday we will be filming your solo. So, drink some tea or whatever the fuck you do." I laugh trying to sway back and forth to gather friction between my legs. I can feel his body heat next to me. He lays an arm on the small of my back, drawing circles. I jump lightly at his trailing fingers. I need to get away from him before my internal flames ignite this entire lot.

"Cooper, I need you to rehearse as much as you can. Love you, buddy, but you have two left feet and your chops are going to need some tuning. So, with that being said, please spend every waking moment together." Fucking great. Vander walks away but turns back quickly. "And Cooper, I want you both in the dance studio tomorrow morning. Jessica wants to rework the choreography."

I am so fucked. I can barely stand close to this man now without wanting to pounce on him. I take the larger shawl off my shoulders and toss it on the chair. I begin to walk away to my trailer, but Cooper catches my elbow. "Hey." I smile lightly, I take a second glance at his lips, missing the warmth. I register his lips moving, sound coming from his mouth, but I can't hear a word he says. I grab the collar of his shirt, bringing his lips down to meet mine in a rushed kiss.

The echo of my name and his fingers snap in front of my face. I shake my head, running away from the thoughts. "Yeah?" I stare anywhere but his eyes, I stare at his hair, his eyebrows, lips... fuck, I'm looking at his lips again. I turn away from him and make my way to the trailer door. "I'm sorry, Cooper. I am just so tired." I open the door, but his hand pushes it shut before I can escape. He leans down with furrowed brows. "You seem frazzled." He runs a single digit up my arm causing goosebumps to run along my skin. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold the shutter inside. I shake my head, "No, I just didn't sleep well, and today ran long. Just tired."

He hums softly. His finger traced the strap of my dress. “You look so beautiful.” I shutter at his touch, and he knows it.

He opens the trailer door for me, "Then you better get some rest. I'll have you worn out tomorrow." WHAT? He must be fucking with me.

I feel the smirk creep on my lips. Unable to hold it in, I allow myself to surrender just a little. I reach out, straightening his shirt collar, and adding a subtle tug. "I think you'll be surprised how tired I can make you." I watch as his eyes search mine. Seeming to dig into my soul. Finding me and my true desires. He leans down ever so slightly, like a magnet forcing us together. Inches between us, so so close, but I pat his chest with a smirk. I watch as Cooper opens his eyes with stardust lining his lashes. I whisper to him, "Goodnight, Cooper." And I close the trailer door. Just an inch before it shut, Cooper caught it with his hand.

He peals the door open, stepping inside, making me back away into the small counter. He stares into my soul, communicating silently. He dips down quickly capturing my lips. His hands guided me to the small couch. Clothes were torn, and only the essential items were removed for our intimate skin to brush against each other. Cooper rushed to tear my panties away, and I was right behind him, pulling his rock-solid cock from his pants.

He fucks my body deep into the couch, the repeated grinding against my clit causing sparks to ignite. I clasp at the wide planes of his back, my fingernails skidding down the fabric of his dress shirt, threatening to rip the material. "Cooper, fuck!" I moan out as I watch where our bodies meet. Cooper took my wrist, pinning my arms above my head, sinking into me deeper. He watches me with knitted brows, completely lost in the actions. He dives down to my neck, teeth grazing a spot on my neck that stimulates the blissful warmth.

It's rolling through me, I can feel the tightness building in my core, the cord tightening. I toss my head back, closing my eyes. He pushes deeper. The trailer gives a slight rock, as our moans fill the vicinity. If anyone was near there would be no hiding our actions.

"Oh my God, I'm coming." I pant, the coil popping and my release begins flowing. I arch up into his chest. Cooper pulls out, finishing on the crumpled costume. I breathe deeply for what feels like hours. I open my eyes to see Cooper smirking above me, soft kisses peppering my cheeks as his hands glide down my arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above my head. Unable to move I just stare at him as I catch my breath.

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, readjusting himself before sitting by my feet. A smirk builds its way to his mouth. He runs a thumb over my legs.

I stay silent. I feel like I should pinch myself. I could swear I was dreaming if it wasn't for his fingertips trailing up my leg.

Oh, fuck, this was a mistake. This is so wrong. Maybe this was just a moment of weakness. He has a wonderful family...

He calls my name softly, continuing his soft touches. "You're thinking too loud, darlin'." I sit up, jitters still running through my body. "How could I not? That was-" "Amazing." He leans in catching my lips again, softly this time around. He pulls away, just enough to whisper. "Let me walk you to your car." I nod wordlessly, quickly changing into my regular clothing. Just as we are about to walk out the door, I tug his arm. "Wait." I press my lips down on his, meeting perfectly.

He walks me to the car, only passing a few stragglers, but paid them no mind, his hand still glued to my waist. He opens the door to my car, allowing me to get seated. He leans down with a smile, "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, beautiful."

As I drive away down the road, my smile slowly fades. "Oh, my god." I just slept with someone's husband, and I loved it! I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. I let myself fall limply against the headrest. I curse his name lowly as I fall into the shame of the actions I am committing behind closed doors.

~

Her car door shuts, and I am left staring at her vehicle slowly disappearing. my eyes in a daze, cheeks perking the color of a rose. Hell, I'm acting like a damn teenager. She makes me feel things again. Certain feelings of the warmth a good woman like her can spread. I am fucked. She was so warm, so tight. She fit so perfectly around my cock. I wanted to go slow, I was trying to beg myself to pace myself, but she was too irresistible.

I chuckle, running a finger over my lips. I had kissed costars before. It was never a problem. It certainly never leads to scandalous acts, but when it comes to her it seems everything is out of the ordinary for me. I shake my head lightly as I am whisked to my car. Floating on the memory of her eyes, laugh, kissable plump lips, and skin that smelt of strawberry jam. It was those thoughts that got me home. It was those thoughts that invaded my mind as poured myself a drink upon entry. They were also the thoughts that broke the thread as I pumped my shaft in my hand, once again overcome with the need for her. Concealed in the master bathroom, in the shower, allowing myself to fantasize about another woman. "Fuck," Her name left my mouth in a breathless moan.

I looked into the mirror at the man before me. He was a shameful mess. The present visions of her supplying my imagination didn't trouble me. The constant pressing of my cock threatening to twitch at the sound of her voice on the radio didn't trouble me. What troubled me was the fact that I enjoyed every second of it. I yearned for the morning sun each night, the fact of knowing I would be able to see her the next day was enough to close my eyes each night. I would get to hold her, brush her hair behind her ears, and smell the sweetness of her skin. A shameful mess I was indeed. The want grew each hour I spent thinking of her.

~

The bright sun in the sky barely kissed the hills as I opened the door to the studio. I was more in my element. Acting was fun, but I had been missing the feeling of confidently knowing what to do. In here, I could sing and sway to my plans and no one would correct me. I stretch on the ground freely, humming as I do. The door opens and I look back, silently hoping Cooper walks through. But it's just, Louis.

"Well, you seem to be in a good mood this morning," Louis calls out from the door. I smile at him, continuing to stretch. "I just caught up on some much-needed rest." Yes... Rest...

Louis eyes me up and down, not convinced. "I'm not buying that shit. What happened? You look... different. Did you curl your hair for rehearsal?" I slap his hand away from my hair. "So what if I did? I have appearances to keep up."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Yeah fucking right." He lies down on the floor with me as I stretch. "Who was it?" I look at him in confusion, "What?" Louis cackles, "Who did you fuck? Come on I want details." "No one. My god, Louis. Make yourself useful and go put my bag up." Louis tosses the bag over his shoulder with a smirk. "I'm just saying, you've never been this perky in the morning unless you've been riding a dick all night." I cover my eyes in embarrassment. Several of the crew were on set now and heard what Louis blared out. "Shut the fuck up." I snide at him.

I look around in hopes that Cooper wasn't around to see or hear the exchange, but I am never so lucky. He stands at the back of the room, tying his shoes, a small smirk littering his lips. If he did hear, then he is acting like he didn't.

He waltzes over looking awkward. Fuck, I knew this was going to be weird. I narrow my eyes at him as he sways from one foot to the other. "You okay?" I ask with a small smile. He was finally on my rank. These were my stomping grounds and he was completely lost. A light confidence perks in my veins. "Not much of a dancer, or a singer for that matter." He watches as I spin, the black leotard hugging my body. I catch his eyes burning into my frame. "I'm sure you're better than you think." "Oh, I don't know. Never been good at dancing with pretty women."

Jessica stands in front of us and the few extras needed. "I want to run the solo with the choreography from the first take. I know we talked about it, and I know you said you weren't all for the sexy moves, but-"

"No, let's do it." I want to run it." I interrupt her quickly, her eyes lighting up. She claps her hands with a smile. "Everyone else, take your position. We're going to run it."

Jessica gives me the floor as she begins the music. I feel the chords flowing, the music taking over. I begin the rehearsed song and choreography. Swaying lightly to begin, but slowly making out into the crowd. I sing and turn around the tables, captivating the eyes of everyone in the room. One in particular looked as if he was fighting his own will to stay seated. I sing as I sit at the table he's at. His eyes dive into mine and suddenly it is just the two of us, and I am singing directly to him.

I rest my hand on his chest. I can feel the rapid thump of his heart. Cooper stands placing his hands on either side of my face as I sing. He allows his hand to feel down the side of my body. Memorizing the curves of my waist. I turn his head to look back into my eyes, finishing the melody. He brings my face in, passionately pressing his lips down onto mine. Applause erupts from the studio, but he doesn't pull away. Cooper grips my waist tightly, dragging me to the edge of the table, pushing his hardened cock into my thigh. I gasp feeling his length against my leg.

Unknowing to others, but I know. By the look on his face, he knows that I know. A smirk grew on his lips. “I’d say that scene will be perfect, darlin’.” Cooper pulls away from my body, the warmth disappearing. He sits in the seat watching my every move such as a predator stalking their prey.

[milfjuulpod]

Special

req: yes

can you write a Melissa x Reader where reader is the new VP of Abbott and she’s just the most professional person ever. She doesn’t wanna interact with the staff in any way that’s not professional, she’ll refer to them by last name, has lunches in her car, doesn’t try to socialize unless it’s Melissa. Melissa never notices but reader is always lingering to watch her, calls her by her first name, goes out of her way to make sure Mel is never inconvenienced by anything at Abbott. it’s not until maybe Janine or Jacob, hell Gregory even point it out that Mel notices and confronts the reader about it. Reader responds in like the cheesiest way possible, something like “i was down bad for you from the moment i saw you” and Melissa just m e l t s!!

warnings: none

A/N: hello again 🧛🏻‍♀️ i absolutely LOVED this request, so i hope you enjoy reading as much as i did writing :)) thank you for all the support !!

After earning yourself your graduate degree, and interning at schools all over, you found yourself at Abbott Elementary. Despite its hazards here and there, you loved it. You maintain your poise and passion for work each day, staying on task and doing everything you could to help. 

       Being the Vice Principal came with a lot of responsibilities, especially working for Ava Coleman. Over the school year, just like the rest of Abbott, you grew to love her—but that didn’t mean she didn’t give you a headache every week. “Can you not eat in your car for one day and just come with me to this brunch?” Ava begged, but you knew better. “Ms. Coleman, if you’re going on this brunch, somebody has to stay here. Besides, you’ll be fine. I’ve prepared your folder for you and you nailed rehearsals,” you encouraged her. 

       Ava was preparing for a brunch with some people from the district, and as much as you wanted to go and support her, you had to stay. “You’re right, I did kill that last rehearsal. I guess I’ll go alone,” the principal dramatized, and left for her lunch. Walking back, you decided to do a quick sweep before heading into your own office. No harm in checking on everyone, right? You passed Mrs. Howard’s door, noticing her students taking a nap. She saw you through the window, and the two of you exchanged smiles before you parted. 

        “Oh, hey Y/N! I had a question for you,” a small, but loud, voice was heard from behind you. “Hello Ms. Teagues, how can I help you?” You turned to greet her. “You know you can call me Janine, right?” The shorter teacher gave you a friendly smile, and continued.  “Anyways, I was thinking about doing a project with my students, they started this new book and are just loving it! Honestly I was a bit surprised, but I guess when the kids are with me-”

       “The question you had?” You interrupted her. As much as Janine had a soft spot in your heart, you had work to do and a lunch to half-eat. “Right, sorry. Do you think Friday we could use the library?” She asked, shooting you puppy dog eyes. “I don’t see why not. Let me touch base with our librarian that week and make sure, I’ll get back to you.” You answered. 

        “Yay! Okay, I gotta pick my kids up but, thank you!” She yelled as she started to pick up speed down the hallway. You shook your head and smiled to yourself as you continued your walk, but quickly stopped in your tracks. Melissa’s door was open. For whatever reason, Melissa was…different for you. You never interacted much with people from your work life, never have. With Melissa you still kept your physical distance, but that didn’t stop the thoughts in your head that always came back to her. 

       Nervously, you leaned against the door frame and took in her room. She sat in her chair at the front of the room, book in hand, reading to her class. Every few sentences she would pick her head up and glance at her students, and each time you got nervous she would catch you staring. “The vine was alive! It was a long green snake! The snake fell from the tree, it splashed in the water and swam away,” Melissa read aloud. You watched as one of her students stood up from their seat. “Does the snake get Jack? Or Annie?” He asked. “I don’t know hon, that’s why we have to keep reading,” Melissa said to him, and motioned for him to sit back down. 

        “Sorry Ms. Schemmenti,” he apologized, albeit quietly. “That’s alright, I know reading can be very exciting. But let’s regroup, okay?” She regained everyone’s attention so quickly, and you couldn’t help but watch in complete adoration for the woman. You completely missed two teachers walk right behind you. Melissa went to go back to reading, but her head snapped back up immediately as she saw you standing. She waved for you to come in, and continued on. You sat there for the next few minutes, until it was time for her students to go to lunch. “Jacob is coming to get my kids, give me a minute and then I wanna talk to ya,” Melissa said to you as she stood up to get her kids ready. 

         You couldn’t help but study her every movement, the way she walked, the way she bent down to talk to the kids, everything. She had you wrapped around her finger like it was nothing. Melissa was, without a doubt, the highlight of your day. Every day. “So,” she started, pulling you out of your trance. “I need the library on Friday. I’m getting my kids ready for the science fair this year and I wanna try some bigger stuff with them,” she said. You could see the excitement practically glowing off of her as she told you about her plans. How could you say no? “Yeah! That sounds great. If I have time, I’d love to come see what you guys end up doing,” You told her. 

       “Yeah hon, you should swing by. I’d like that,” She responded. You tried desperately to ignore the way your heart pounded when she called you that, and went to make your exit. “It’s a plan. I have to get back to work but, I’ll see you around, Melissa.” She waved goodbye to you, and you went back to your office stomach full of butterflies. 

       Melissa wasn’t far behind you, although she was going in a different direction. She grabbed her things and headed towards the break room for her own lunch. “I’m not saying I don’t like her! I really like her, I just think it’s strange she still won’t call me Janine.” Melissa heard a voice she tried to ignore. She smiled or waved to those around, and made her way to sit down and eat. “She calls all of us by our last names, even Ava. She’s not social with us either, one time I think I saw her working and eating in her car. Are we not fun to be friends with?” Jacob frantically asked. 

       “No,” Melissa said in time with Ava, who was just walking in. “Are y’all talkin bad about my little helper?” She asked. Melissa, against her better judgment, chimed in. “She’s the Vice Principal, not just your little helper.” Ava sported a cheeky grin, noticing how that got under her skin. “Whatever, anyways, I came in here to tell you actually that the library is yours on Friday,” The principal continued her conversation with Melissa, although Janine was quick to say something. “Wait, what? I just talked to Y/N, and she said I could have the library,” she said frantically. “No, I just talked to her, she said I could have it. Sorry kid,” Melissa retorted. “Just because you’re her favorite, doesn’t mean you should get privileges,” Janine tried to say quietly, but she wasn’t quiet enough. “I am not her favorite! She doesn’t have favorites, she doesn’t like any of us,” Melissa argued. She turned her body more towards the table in front of her and crossed her arms. 

       “Oh come on Melissa, you don’t notice?” Janine poked. When she got no response, everybody decided to help paint the picture. “She calls you by your name. Your first name,” Janine told her. “She gave you the library over Janine,” Jacob added. “I saw her outside your classroom for like, five minutes today,” Gregory finished. Melissa was too stunned to say anything, both at everyone noting your behavior towards her, and the fact that she missed all of this. You didn’t wanna socialize with everyone, but everyone didn’t mean Melissa. 

       “Okay, okay, I’ll go figure it out. Sorry,” The redhead shot Janine an apologetic look as she walked out the door once again. Melissa felt her palms get sweaty as she got closer to your office. Now that she knew about all her little privileges with you, she didn’t want to say something and ruin it. Besides, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, Melissa enjoyed the rare company you brought her. As she approached your door, Melissa took a deep breath in. After a quick mental pep talk, she knocked gently. Upon hearing your, “Come in,” she opened the door as slowly as she could. 

       Lifting your head to look at the door, your face lit up at the sight. “Oh! Hi Melissa, what’s up?” You asked her. Melissa closed the door behind her, and took a seat across from you. When she didn’t answer, you leaned in a bit closer and furrowed your eyebrows at her. Melissa couldn’t meet your gaze, and you hated it. “What’s going on?” You asked quietly. 

       “Why am I special?” Melissa blurted out. The both of you looked at each other, surprised at what she had just said. “I…I’m not sure what you mean by that,” you lied. “You told Janine she could have the library, and then went and gave it to me. You call me ‘Melissa’ but everyone else is last names only. And I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure I’m the only person you buy coffee for once a week,” the older woman explained. You felt cheeks turn as red as Melissa’s hair when she said all this to you, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact. “Hon?” She pushed when you didn’t reply. 

      After a deep breath, you spoke. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is about you Melissa but my god. From the first day I got here I…I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re in the same room. I want to do everything I can to make your day easier or better or just to see you smile. Everything I do here is for you. You’re special, that’s it. And I like you that way.” When you finally looked back up, you saw tears forming in the green eyes across from you. 

        “You…you really mean that?” Melissa asked you, like she almost believed everything you said. “Yes!” You let out a defeated laugh, tears forming in your own eyes out of embarrassment. “Of course I mean it. What made you decide to bring this up today?” 

       Melissa shifted in her seat. “It was brought to my attention today, that I may or may not be your favorite,” she admitted. She tried to hide the smile that was forming, but it was clear she was happy to be your favorite person. You sighed, “Well, you are. I’m sorry that it’s affecting work now,” You slid your chair back a bit and started to mess with papers on your desk. “Woah woah woah, don’t get all sad on me now. I never said it was a bad thing,” Melissa said, reaching across the desk to stop your hand from moving another paper. You tilted your head in confusion, which led to Melissa giggling at you. She stood up from her seat and walked around your desk, turning your chair to face her.

       “I think I like being your favorite,” Melissa said in a much lower voice than you’ve ever heard from her. She rested her hands on either side of your chair, faces so close your noses were almost touching. You looked from her eyes to her lips, fighting internally which one to stare at. “Yeah?” You asked, so quietly you weren’t sure she heard you. Melissa nodded her head and when you did the same, she finally closed the distance and you were wrapped in the sweetest kiss you had ever felt. 

        After a few more kisses from Melissa, she finally pulled away. “I’m sorry it took me so long to notice,” She mumbled. You took her hands in yours and played with her fingers. “Don’t be, if anything I’m sorry it took me so long to actually do something about it,” You joked, which thankfully the older woman did find funny. “I think I was the one who did something about it,” Melissa corrected you. “Okay, fine. But either way, I’m glad you brought it up. Would you, maybe, want to kiss me again sometime? After dinner together?” Even though Melissa had just kissed you, you were so nervous about asking her out. 

      “I would love to, but I might kiss you before then.”

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

˗ˏˋ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˎˊ˗

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — teacher!jeff skinner x teacher!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 2.4k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off?

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — written to fill a short n sweet request last year for my patreon fic-mas <3 and if you catch the lil nod to two of our favs, you're a real one

“I know we’ve been having a hard time concentrating this week, which is understandable with all the excitement surrounding the Snowball Dance, but you do have one more day of work before you can totally kick back and check out,” Jeff Skinner, a high school social studies teacher, says after the tardy bell chimes.

The students are settling into their seats but listen intently.

He continues, “That being said, I will still be collecting your annotations for chapters eighteen through twenty that we started during Monday’s class. While I’m doing that, a sign-up sheet for the Unit 5 case study presentations will be floating around the room. If I were you, I’d grab the earliest slot available to get it over with and be done for the semester. But, hey, that’s just me!”

His twelfth-grade AP Government class meets this with a chorus of groans. A subset of students lightheartedly boo him from the back row. Oddly, though, the ruckus pleases him.

Mr. Skinner strives to create a classroom environment where the teens feel comfortable sharing their honest feelings and have the space to do so if they choose. Their vocal push-back signifies their trust in him. He also appreciates their mutinous spirit because it arose after their deep dive into the Declaration of Independence and its twenty-seven grievances; they were combative but in the name of freedom for the cohort and the individual. Jeff saw that as a Teacher Win.

“I know, I know. I’m a tyrant, and you hate me. But unlike this country, this classroom is a monarchy, not a democracy,” he returns the teasing. “And if you looked at our agenda when you walked in this morning, you would’ve seen that—because I am obviously the nicest person ever—I have allocated today’s class period to independent work time. So, you can complete whatever you may need. That means putting any final touches on this week’s chapters, polishing up your Supreme Court case PowerPoints with your partner or group, or finishing any outstanding assignments.

And if you recall, I give full credit for late work, so long as it's on my desk before the cut-off tomorrow at noon. You’re welcome." Sarcasm is his favorite—and most effective—bonding strategy. "If you're squared away, you know where the board games and art supplies are. Just no more explicit drawings. I don’t care, but Mrs. Benson next door does.”

The class laughs, fondly recalling the fiasco the day before Homecoming.

A couple of students decided to use their free time to create a few political illustrations. While they were historically accurate and objectively hilarious, they were not “school appropriate,” according to the 9th-grade Geography teacher who glimpsed the comic strips as she passed the open door.

She demanded Jeff punish the perpetrators for their vulgarity, but instead, he had the drawings laminated and bound into a resource book. Said book has since found a home on a bookshelf, wedged comfortably between Howard Zinn’s A Power Governments Cannot Suppress and The Words We Live By: Your Annotated Guide to the Constitution by Linda Monk.

In his peripheral vision, Jeff sees a student waiting by the door and invites them in. He segues, “Before I leave you to your own devices, it looks like we have a visitor from ASB. So, please be nice, give them your full attention, and don’t embarrass me. Capiche?”

The class agrees to comply, and the boy, an underclassman if he had to guess, hesitantly walks to the front of the room.

Jeff remembers how intimidating seniors felt when he was that age, so he gives his students a pointed warning over the kid’s shoulder. A few of them perk up, noticeably straightening in their seats.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m Leo, and I will be filling in for Gabby today.” He looks down at the printout of the day’s announcements and clears his throat. Then, Leo begins reading them aloud:

“Feeling stressed this finals season? Stop by the quad next week during both A and B lunch blocks to decompress with some therapy dogs. If you need further or individualized support, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson will be opening up their schedules for one-on-one sessions. Appointments can be made using the yellow slips in the main office.

Work permits are available in the career counseling hub. If you plan on getting a job or need to renew, please submit an application as soon as possible. No permits will be issued during Winter Break.

Remember that your final exam period is not the same as your regular meeting time or day, so be sure to check your portals this weekend for the updated schedule.

Still need a ticket for the Snowball Dance tomorrow night? Please stop by the ASB room or contact Owen Power, the senior class president, before sixth period today. They’re $15 with an ASB card and $20 without one. Trust me; you don’t want to miss out!"

The audience of seniors cheers, hooting and hollering out their delight. The underclassman beams, confidence swelling, and tucks the script away. His smile grows. “And now…drum roll, please!”

As the students bang their desks with open palms, textbooks, and stray pencils, the ASB student angles a pair of jazz hands towards the open door.

“Santa Claus!”

Peyton, the current school mascot—in an ill-fitting costume that's certainly older than he is—materializes in the empty space. He hauls a lumpy velvet bag over his shoulder as he saunters across the room. The tiny gold bells affixed to the sack twinkle with every step.

“Ho, ho, ho! Candy Cane Gram delivery!” Peyton bellows.

His impression is unexpectedly convincing, in Jeff's humble opinion.

“Santa” roots around in the bag and pulls the first set out. They’re paper-clipped together, indicating both were for the same person. “Taylor Zimmerman? Two for you!”

He passes the slips of paper back to the student who raised her hand.

The distribution of festive notes, an annual fundraiser put on by the junior and senior class councils to bankroll the dance itself, fades into background noise as Mr. Skinner begins looking over the pile of essays he collected last period from his squirrelly 10th-grade World History class.

The prompt had been to explore the impact of globalization in the post-Cold War era, and they’re off to a great start. The first essay's author touches on “transnational actors” and their impact on overall global wealth—in the introductory paragraph. Pride blooms in his chest. Maybe someone had been paying attention after all.

Jeff gets through three and a half papers—all 95% and above, but who’s counting?—before he feels someone standing over him.

“Uh, Mr. Skinner?” Peyton whispers in his civilian voice.

“Yes?” Jeff replies.

To mark his spot, Mr. Skinner sets his pen below a particularly eloquent paragraph highlighting how American consumer culture polluted local ecosystems abroad.

The sophomore nervously looks around the room. After deciding his peers were too engrossed in the social politics of sending and receiving Candy Cane Grams and Ice Court nomination speculation to hear, Peyton pulls a slip of paper out from inside the thick, red coat and sets it on Jeff’s desk. It’s crumpled, and the miniature candy cane is barely hanging on.

“This last one’s for you.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” Jeff smiles. The polite expression is meant to relieve the student from his classroom, but Peyton remains glued to his spot. Gently, he asks, “Is there something else I can do for you, Mr. Krebs?”

“Aren’t you going to see who sent it?” the boy asks, all toothy grin and twinkling eyes.

Well, that’s not at all suspicious, Mr. Skinner thinks as he slides the slip closer.

He scans the generic template, reading his name and room number scrawled beside washed-out festive clipart, but doesn’t understand the fuss... until his eyes drift down to the section for an optional message.

Mr. Skinner,

Just like a snowflake, you’re one of a kind. Be my date to the dance tomorrow night? It would make me SNOW happy!

Jeff almost believes it’s from you. Had he not been familiar with your handwriting, it would have been an excellent forgery. But, he knew your penmanship. Maybe a little too well.

His anchor charts were all in your hand; he could see at least three from where he was sitting. Jeff can’t recall the last time he attempted one on his own.

In exchange for mercifully sparing him from teenage ridicule due to his poor penmanship, he handled the construction and refurbishment of the props and sets necessary for the Winter Showcase and spring musical every year. Whatever you, the brilliant and beloved drama teacher, dreamed up, Jeff dutifully built.

Including, but not limited to, an impressive Audrey II, the iconic Venus flytrap from “Little Shop of Horrors,” a life-size bubble for their Glinda to float around in during performances of “Wicked,”  and the massive tire that anchors the dilapidated junkyard set for “Cats.”

He was ambivalent about musical theater when he bartered the informal contractor role, but Jeff grew to love it after a few years. Due in large part to your infectious passion.

He gives the mastermind—or masterminds, props for trying, though.

“Oh, wow!” Jeff exclaims, deciding to play along. Peyton's face brightens; there’s no way he’s not involved. “Out of respect, let’s keep this between you and me for now, okay?”

“O-of course, Mr. Skinner,” Peyton sputters, as though he’s shocked Jeff didn’t notice anything amiss or ask any follow-up questions. “That’s why I waited to give it to you. It felt too personal to announce in front of your entire class. Especially after the whole Homecoming thing.”

“Thing” wasn’t what he’d call it, but this kind of dramatic exaggeration was one of the many reasons he loved working with teenagers.

During a pep rally in October, the student body president crowned the two of you the faculty Homecoming King and Queen. Jeff wasn't even aware that was a thing he could win, and neither had you, but you bashfully accepted the titles and accompanying crowns in front of a thousand rowdy high schoolers anyway.

Later that night, you slow-danced to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” under a sky of twinkling stars—clear fairy lights repurposed from the previous year’s "Camelot" canopy—black glitter tulle, and a plywood crescent moon.

The students lost their minds then and were yet to get over it. Obviously.

“I appreciate that,” Jeff says, biting back his amusement.

Peyton salutes him and hoists the sack over his shoulder again. He and Leo say their goodbyes and move on to the next classroom on their route.

The remainder of the school day was agonizingly hectic. So much so that it meddled with his plan to swing by the auditorium where you held classes.

His projector kicked the bucket in the middle of his lecture on the two-way exchanges collectively known as the Columbian Exchange; Jeff couldn’t get it back into commission until his prep period, so he would have to explain how the triangular trade route emerged from colonial mercantilism policies in the new year. His 9th-grade World Geography class refused to participate in the activity he organized to mimic the Arctic landscape and harsh climate, so, somewhat reluctantly, he cut his losses and threw on an episode of Where On Earth Is Carmen Sandiego? And right before his sixth period, some bored senior pulled the fire alarm, forcing the entire school to spend the glacial afternoon lined up in the parking lot.

All that said, it was safe to say Mr. Skinner had never been happier to see his driveway and his dog than he was this evening. The border collie shepherd mix, Chips—affectionately named as a tribute to the trained sentry dog who became the most decorated canine in the Second World War—is waiting on the porch. Joyously, he howls when Jeff gets out of his car.

“Hey, buddy,” he says as he reaches down to scratch between the pup’s ears. Chips jumps up, his muddy paws landing on Jeff’s coat. He begins licking his owner’s cheeks with reckless abandon. “Okay, come on, crazy dog. Let’s get you back inside.”

Immediately after Jeff opens the front door, Chips darts down the hallway. He chuckles, shaking his head as he sheds his coat and tosses his keys into the bowl by the door.

Jeff rescued his dog as he was wrapping up his undergraduate degree at NC State, and the two were as thick as thieves up until a few years ago.

That’s not to say anything happened or there’s bad blood; Chips simply found a new favorite person.

Jeff trails after Chips, following the furry tail and the delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. He makes a pit stop at the fridge to grab a beer before turning to address his successor to the rescue's heart, standing at the stove stirring a giant pot of soup.  

“You won’t believe what happened in my second period today, babe. Every day, I’m surprised by how bold teenagers are. Hell, when I was their age, I was petrified to sharpen a pencil without asking. Their latest scheme wouldn’t have even crossed my mind. Seriously, I don’t think you could guess what shenanigans they got up to if you tried.”

He's met with melodic laughter, a sparkly sound that still makes his heart skip a beat.

“Maybe not, but I don’t need to.”

Jeff’s brows knit together, confused. Then his eyes zero in on the slip of paper identical to the one in his back pocket.

If it were possible, his jaw could sweep the tile floor.

“Guess we aren’t as sly as we think,” you smirk, waving a counterfeit Candy Cane Gram of your own in the air like a white flag.

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────────────

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[schemmentisjacket]

Chapter 1 - Prep Day pt 1

Authors Note: Little something something about non binary queer new teacher coming in, leading to Melissa finding the one.

Prep days. All the teachers were familiar with this by now, Barbara and Melissa especially having done many over the years. So rolling round to the first day of the year, well for teachers anyway, Melissa found herself pulling into the carpark and swinging into her usual bay next to Barbara’s more sensible family car, whilst her green dodge challenger glistened in the morning sun.

‘Morning Barb,’ her first call from the window before sliding them up and slipping out of the leather seat, door closing behind her.

‘Morning dear, ready for the first day?’ Barb asked, her boot open, surveying the boxes stacked up with supplies for the coming year and for classroom decorating.

Just as Melissa opened her mouth to reply, a sleek blacked out Jeep pulled into the car park. Compact. Tinted windows. Glossy. ‘Fuck that’s a nice car,’ Slid from her mouth instead of the usual, ‘Another year, same shit, but anything for my little eagles’

‘Melissa!’

‘What Barb? It’s a thing of beauty, never seen that round here before. Reckon it’s the new fourth grade teacher? I wonder who got it.’

‘I’m not sure who Ava chose in the end. There were definitely some serious candidates from the interview process. Hopefully it’s a good one or at least my choice!’ Barbara said, looking over to the Jeep. She had been part of the recruitment process over the summer, meeting several of the candidates and feeding back to Ava. However they hadn’t been told who had been successful.

They both heard the pop of the door handle. A green leather gloved hand appeared around the door. White sneakers gave way to mid blue denim, not too tight but not overly baggy. Green hoodie layered with a black leather jacket. Chiselled jaw, short auburn hair, cut scalp close at the sides and back, flopped unruly on top. Eyes hidden behind dark lenses.

The clunk of door shutting behind them and a double click of the locks securing travelled across the car park as the person looked up towards them both.

A gloved hand raised in their direction.

‘Mrs Howard!’ The voice called.

Melissa shivered, that voice, low and husky but a hint of femininity.

A crooked grin and the person headed in their direction. A gloved hand raised and the front of the glasses clicked away from the frames. Clear lenses revealed green eyes.

Barbara started forward, arms outstretched ‘Charlie! I told you, Barbara is just fine. Melissa, meet Charlie Flinn. They were my favourite person from the interviews. I had hoped you’d get the position.’

Melissa picked up on the way Barb had used ‘they’. The androgynous styling and meeting of masculine and feminine features, she guessed they might be non binary.

Charlie hugged Barbara. ‘You’re too kind. I’m really glad I got it too! I’m excited to work with you. With both of you,’ They turned to look at Melissa and reached out a leather clad hand, ‘You must be Miss Schemmenti, Mrs How, I mean Barbara, spoke so highly of you during my interview, I was hoping to get the chance to meet the amazing teacher she’d described, though she never mentioned how stunning you are.’

Melissa felt her chest flush beneath her own leather jacket as she took the offered hand in her own.

‘Nice to meet ya too, Charlie was it? Nice set of wheels you got there.’

‘Thanks, Can I help you ladies move some of those boxes?’

Barbara smiled widely ‘That would be lovely dear.’

Melissa turned to her own car popping the trunk, she didn’t have as many boxes as Barb, as she was waiting on a delivery from one of her guys. She took a peak over her shoulder to see Barb load a second box into the newbies arms. The arms of their jacket bulging slightly as they supported the load.

She shook her head. Newbies took time to get used to if they even stuck around, but this one was easy on the eyes and polite without being over eager.

Maybe they’d be worth the time.

[marvelsfavoriteuncle]

Things I have said over the years 💫

( Marvel Incorrect Quotes)

Peggy: Maybe it wasn’t the best idea…

Jason: MAYBE?!

————

Tony: I think I blew up the workshop again!

Jason: The fire extinguisher is on the left near the entrance.

———

Jason: At least it’s not like what happened with Mr. Fluky.

Tony: You said Mr. Fluky ran away!

Jason: I lied. You were allergic to him.

Tony: Says who?!

——

Jason: *snaps awake* I’m up! Who’s dead? Who broke a bone?!

——-

Liane: How many candles do we put on your birthday cake? 1000?

Jason: I- *pinches the bridge of his nose*

———

Jason: *hands on his lips and sucks in a breath* Who’s mess is this?

Luna: *pauses playing with her plushies on the ground*

Roch: *takes off her headphones and puts her stack of papers down*

Both girls: *both look at each other and point at Rick* He did it!

Rick: Mother—!

———

Elizabeth: If you eat one more donut, you’re gonna have to see a doctor, stupid!

Jason: Says who? I’m perfectly healthy!

———

Bruce: I’m too old for this.

Jason: Dude, I’m too old for this shit.

————

Rei: Yo pops where’s your cane?

Jason: Who are gonna beat the crap out of with?

Rei: *grins*

———

Liz: You thought I was dead? Didn’t think of looking at the bottom of the damn ocean?!

Jason: I was depressed!

————

Liane: Hey, JJ? Can I get some dating advice?

Jason: Just because I’m with Lizzie doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

——

Rick, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Jason: You did WHAT–

Luna: William Snakepeare!

———

Liz: JJ and I are having a baby.

Tony: That's gre-

Liz, slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you, sign here.

Jason: We’re much better parents than Howard.

————

Nat: How many kids do you have?

Jason: Biologically, emotionally, or legally?

———

————-

And we’re done ☑️

Let me know what you think! Keep the chain going if you like

@ask-starrk @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @cherrysft @meiramel @trulysummersprivate

[fanfichubcircuit]

Cowboys and Chems || Ghoul X Trans!Masc reader

He’s here. Your cowboy is here. You don’t see Cooper often what with both of you traveling. He had his bounties and you had Chems to sell, but you always had a way of running into each other.

You’re sitting on your bike keeping the motor going in case you had to split soon. It wasn’t like you had been well behaved in that dive bar, but you were itching for a fight today and you got nothing to show for it. Which either meant no fight or someone would show up with friends.

“Well I’ll be.” His voice is honey on a hot day, and when you turn to him that million cap smile is lighting up his scarred face. “Pretty Boy’s in town. Didn’t expect you to be here.”

“Well if it ain’t Coop.” You leaned over your motorcycle. “What could I do you for, Mr. Howard?” You winked. Your smile quickly faded at seeing the girl with him. A pretty vault girl. Venom’s at your lips before you could stop it. “What’s up with Bug Eyes over there?”

She looks appalled, but Cooper waved her off. “Now now Darlin’ there’s no need to bite at friends. She’s helping me with a job.” He walked over to you casting a cool shadow over you. “What say you and I exchange a proper hello?” But it’s not really a question.

You glance around. The Ghoul always draws eyes wherever he goes. Men kissing in a town like this might cause problems.

“Come here Cowboy, lay some sugar on me.” You grabbed his coat lapels and dragged him close.

Luckily, you loved problems more than your buyers loved chems. You could make all the drugs in the world and you got hooked on adrenaline and danger. Maybe that’s why you fell in love with Coop in the first place. He gave you plenty of both.

His lips are dry and cracked and his teeth find your lip immediately. You let him bite you his fill before tipping his head back. He could pretend to be a predator all he wants, but he gave his softness away every time you pushed for it. He tastes like shitty Radaway, but you don’t care. His mouth is soft and warm and yours. Only ever yours.

After what was far too long to get away with in public you pull back. “Hope he didn’t take all your caps on that batch.”

Cooper just smiled down at you. “Doesn’t matter. I know you’ll take care of me.”

You nodded. “Always.” You finally separate to pull out a set of vials for him. “You gonna need some stims too?”

He nodded. “It’s a big fish.”

You shuffled around in your bag nudging the vials of testosterone aside to pull out the packs. “Always is with you. Just don’t break your fishing pole reeling it in. I still need it.”

Cooper let out a laugh. “Yes, Sir.”

You pile the items together and he started counting out the caps. Before you two became more than friends you used to give him a discount as part of a deal for not bringing you in. And when he started flirting with you you gave him an even bigger one figuring it was worth the ego boost. Nowadays he won’t let you take anything below full price.

You’d been confused at first but he had just scowled. “What? You think I can’t take care of my man?” You never argued it after that too warm and melted by the phrase.

Your voice is hushed as you look over the girl again. “Don’t tell me I gave you a soft spot for Vaulties.”

His eyes land on your leather jacket blue and faded. You had already told him how you had stitched it together out of your old suit. But that was years ago. And no one around now knew what you were once. No vaultie had the amount of scars you did.

“Nah Darlin’. This is about old scores.” He looked wistful.

You nodded and looked around. There was some mean bastard starting you down. He looked even more pissed when you gave him a shit eating grin.

“You have fun fishing Cowboy. Come back to me?”

“Always.” His smile was soft. Then the walls were back up and he was the fierce hunter once more. “Alright Vaultie. We’re going!”

She’s gone.

“Sonofabitch.” Cooper sighed.

He ran off your laugh ringing in his ears.

As heavy footsteps closed in on you your hand found your tire iron. “Now sir I’m a taken man.” You dodged the sloppy punch he threw. “But I don’t mind dancing if you really want to!”

[irondad-defensesquad]

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

Tony has actually been waiting at the door this whole time. He smiles and approaches Peter.

… And Tony hugs him.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Not that it’s that much of a surprise, honestly. Tony has hugged Peter before, albeit quickly. It’s never taken more than ten seconds.

Peter sighs. “Please don’t tell me Happy told you about me bombing my quiz.”

Tony rubs his back in response instead.

Peter rejects it and releases himself from the hug. He throws his backpack to the floor and sits on the couch in defeat.

“I don’t even know how I bombed it,” the boy vents. “I actually studied hard and- and read the book, which wasn’t that hard to read, and somehow I got the worst grade in my class.”

“English quiz?”

“Yeah. I didn’t freeze at the time and my mind didn’t go blank. I didn’t think I’d ace it, but I thought I would go well. I have no idea how I screwed up this badly.”

“Did you talk to your teacher?”

“No, ‘cause he only handed our quizzes at the end of class. I also didn’t want anyone to find out about my grade. I know Flash would mock me in front of everyone.”

Tony frowns at the mention of the bully. He sits on the couch next to Peter.

“Try talking to your teacher in his next class,” the former suggests.

“I will, it’s just… I’m so mad. A-And I’m not even mad at him. Why else would I get such a bad grade?”

“Peter…”

The teen sniffs, hiding his teary eyes. “I don’t understand, I’m trying hard to manage my school time and Spider-Man, how did I mess up like this?”

Tony sighs, opening an arm. “Come here.”

Peter then lies against him and sobs, letting his mentor hug him.

“W-Why aren’t you… mad at me, too?” Peter wonders.

It hurts Tony to hear how much he expected him to be angry.

“Why would I be?” Tony questions.

“‘Cause you care about school?”

“I care about you more. Not your grades.”

Peter looks so surprised…

“I know how it’s like to try your hardest and then you get negative feedback,” Tony tells him. “You feel like a huge screw-up. You can’t understand why or how you failed. But that doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

The boy gazes at him, as though he’s surprised to hear that Tony Stark must have felt like a failure. Or probably still feels that way. Even if Peter and Tony have gotten closer, and Peter knows a lot more about his hero, he definitely idolizes Tony and that knowledge might fly past his head sometimes.

“It definitely sucks, kid. You have the right to be sad about it. Just try not to beat yourself too much, okay?” Tony reminds him. “I know you’re doing great. That bad grade won’t erase your efforts.”

Peter, as if coming to understand it, snuggles against Tony. He still cries but he is breathing in and out slowly, calming down.

Tony just holds him for as long as he needs.

It sort of reminds the man of when his bad grades tormented him as a kid.

Howard never cared about his good grades. But when he had bad ones, it convinced Howard that Tony was a fraud.

Several times back then, Tony considered giving up entirely.

Jarvis, however, took all the crumbled pieces of paper and thrown away projects and encouraged Tony to keep trying.

Then Rhodey was his partner in MIT, also pushing Tony to keep working, because he’s the most determined person Rhodey has known.

Of course, Tony knows he’s not made of iron. Sometimes he’ll be defeated. Sometimes his best might not be enough. He takes some time to get back up.

So he respects his time until he strikes back again.

Peter just needs this.

Like Tony once needed and might still need.

When he sees how calm Peter is now, even if he must be feeling pain, Tony pulls away a little to smile at him.

“I’m proud of you, Peter.”

The teen doesn’t know how to react at first. Then he smiles back and looks away in nervousness.

“You want some ice cream?” Tony suggests. “Just bought more today.”

Peter smirks. “Okay.”

As he eats the ice cream, the sadness prevails in Peter’s eyes. He appreciates and enjoys the gesture, though.

In the lab, Peter is staring at a piece of paper.

He puts it back in his backpack and tries to do the other homework he needs to finish.

“Hey, if you need any help, just let me know,” Tony says.

“Okay.”

“Just do what you can right now, alright? If you can’t do all of it, that’s perfectly fine.”

“Oh, this is easy, actually. But thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter grins at him and returns to his homework.

Tony watches him for a while, and his smile widens.

He really is proud of Peter. So proud.

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Chapter 8 As Confused as a Fart in a Fan Factory

(Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul)

<< Previous Chapter

Tags: angst, fluff, romance, humor, banter, femdom, alcohol and drug use, masturbation, edging, eventual smut, soft Cooper, Lucy had a crush on Cooper Howard, Lucy finds out The Ghoul is Cooper Howard, Lucy gets drunk as hell, Chapter 8 is unhinged 😆, they dance like idiots, Lucy tries to bang Cooper drunk but Cooper is a gentleman, Cooper takes care of drunk Lucy

In this chapter…

“Oh, girl… you are drunk as hell.” He said and rose his brow. 

“I’m not that drunk. I can consent… Come on. Let’s fuck.” Lucy giggled as she struggled to keep her balance.

The Ghoul pinched the bridge of his nose as he snickered uncontrollably. 

“What? You didn’t think about it? When you had me all tied up?” She teased and put her hands up in front of her with her wrists together, the same way he’d had them tied before.

“Ho-leeee shit.”

“You can tie me up again, if you want.”

“Chkk… pffft….” The Ghoul threw his hand over his face and tried to hold back his laughter.

“What?”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me… Are you really like this?”

“What!?”

“Lil’-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes is a fuckin’ nymphomaniac?”

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,729

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

“Well, ain’t you ginchy.” The Ghoul said over the music.

Lucy jumped and spun around. “Oh! Geez!” Then started laughing drunkenly. “Hello, Mr. Ghouly Man!”

“...Did you drink my whisky?” He said, grinning as he tilted his head a bit. 

“Hey, this– this is my … ugh… whisky. Mister. I found this whisky. Me.” She said, pointing at herself and slurring her words. 

“Okay.” He stepped closer with an amused half-smile and a raised brow. “Well, may I?” He said, holding out his hand.

“Hmmm… no.” She said and huddled the bottle up in her arms.

The bounty hunter stepped up closer to her and waved his fingers. “Alright. Come on. Give it here.”

“Fine. You can have it.” She said, shoving it in his hand. “Except… except… I think it’s… gone.” She tilted her head and flashed him a wide, proud smile.

He looked down and shook the bottle. “Yep… that is one empty bottle a’ whisky…” Then back up at her. “But you know what that means, don’cha?”

She leaned back and narrowed her eyes, looking at him suspiciously. “...What?”

“That means I get to open up the tequila.” He said with a grin.

Lucy gasped in offense. “You have tequila!? …And you didn’t tell me!?”

The Ghoul scoffed. “Oh, you’ve probably neva’ been this drunk in yo’ whole life, have ya?” He snickered as he grabbed the bottle of said beverage out of his bag. 

She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped and scrunched up her face in consideration that he may be right.

He slumped down in the recliner and started opening the bottle. “You're cut off, sweetheart.”

“Hey! Y-you can’t do that!” 

“Nope. You’ve had enough.” 

“Excuse me! Who– who do you think you are, huh!? My dad!? ” She complained and let out a hiccup. “I helped find all that stuff… so I have a claim to my share! ” 

“Sure, I won’t argue with that…” The bounty hunter said, holding up a hand. “But as someone who has a lot, and I mean a lot , of experience bein’ both drunk as shit and around people who are drunk as shit, I am tellin’ you… If you don’t sit down and eat somethin’ and drink some fuckin’ water, you’re gonna be convulsin’ on the ground pukin’ yer guts out and pissin’ yourself. And I don’t think either of us want that.”

“Ohhh, you don’t want me puking and pissing myself? …That’s sweet.” She joked, poking her bottom lip out dramatically.

“Oh, you fuck off.” He said and took a drink of the tequila. 

Lucy let out a dramatic sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. “Ohh… fine. You can have the tequila.” 

“Oh. Well, thank ye.” He nodded. 

“But only if you dance with me.” She said with a grin.

The Ghoul flashed her a wide smirk as he took another drink. “Nah.”

“Come on! I feel weird being the only one dancing. You owe me, remember?” She came up to him and grabbed his arm and started to pull. “Get… up…!!”

And he let her, laughing amusedly as she struggled, casually sipping on the tequila. “No use, darlin'. I ain’t budgin’.”

“Nnnnn!!!!” Lucy put all her strength into it, leaning back and everything, but he was as stubborn as an actual rock.

“You really think a little thing like you can lift me?”

“That's it!” She dropped his arm, then started looking around. “Where’s your lasso?”

The Ghoul started laughing. “Whatchu gon’ do with that rope, sweetheart? You gon’ tie me up, is that it?”

“Yup!” Lucy paused to look down her nose at him. “ And I’m gonna make you drink pee water .” She huffed at him and continued looking. 

He snickered and flashed an amused half-grin. “Now, hold on. We haven’t even established a safe word yet.” 

Finally, she found the lasso and quickly started wrapping it around his wrist. 

“Oh- hoh . You ain’t playin’ around.”

“Nope!” She said, then slacked a couple feet of rope and started pulling. 

The bounty hunter chuckled and stood up, then started pulling the rope back towards him. It was a pretty unfair game of tug o’ war.

Soon, she was right in front of him. “I guess your little plan didn’t pan out so good.” He chuckled.

Lucy opened her eyes, and they got wide in surprise. “Ha! Got you!” She grinned, then dropped the rope and threw her hands onto his shoulders. “Now you can dance with me.”

The Ghoul’s eye twitched. And he thought he was being clever. “No, no. I’m not dancing.”

“Okay, fine. You don't have to dance with me. I'll just dance with you!” 

“And how does that work, darlin’?” 

“Like this!” She grabbed his arms and started flailing them around as she did a drunken jive. 

The bounty hunter could hardly contain himself. She was so ridiculous … And adorable . 

What was he going to DO?

“Lucy, you…” he said, laughing under his breath. 

“Come on, Asshole!” She said, lifting his arm above her and spinning around. “Dance!” 

He shook his head, then exhaled.

Oh, Hell. She probably wouldn't remember anyway. “You wanna see me dance?” 

“Yes!!” 

“Alright. I'll show you how to do The Madison proper.” He said, then broke into said dance. 

Lucy burst out laughing and tried to copy him, although she was, again, much less coordinated.

“You know the Hand Jive?” He asked and started doing that dance as well.

As the two of them continued to dance in their fluffy white robes, their dances became more improvised and silly. Soon, Lucy was doing odd, random moves and The Ghoul started copying her, causing her to burst into laughter. Dogmeat, despite her limp, even decided to join. Barking and jumping and trotting around in excitement. 

The old bounty hunter couldn't remember the last time he danced like this. The last time he even listened to music like this. Hell, he was actually having fun for the first time in… who knows how long.

As the dances got wilder, Lucy eventually lost her footing and started to fall, but he quickly caught her. “Whoa, there!”

“Ahh!” She yelped and started laughing. 

“You alright?” 

Suddenly, he found himself standing there with Lucy in his arms, clinging onto him for balance. Their bodies, nearly touching. She smiled up at him with eyes that he knew would never look at him that way sober. And he knew he was falling hard. 

“Yeah… I’m okay. Thanks.” Lucy said sweetly.

The Ghoul cleared his throat, then pulled away and started back towards the bottle of tequila. “Well… all this dancin’s got me thirsty.” 

“Phew! Me too!” Lucy said, catching her breath, then paused and tilted her head at him. “Hey… do you… wanna have sex?” 

The tequila expelled from his mouth before it could even hit the back of his throat. “ What!? ”

“Do you wanna have sex…?” She said casually, sounding confused at his reaction.

“...Huh?” He said, looking back at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“I said, do you wanna have se–”

“What?”

“I said, do you wanna--”

“Huh?”

Lucy started laughing.

“What?” He kept going, both jokingly and in genuine disbelief.

She started to laugh harder.

The bounty hunter flashed her a half-grin and raised a brow. “The fuck did you say to me?”

“I said… I said… do you wanna…” She struggled to get words out through her drunken laughter.

“You’re not serious.”

“Of course I’m serious! Ya big meatball!” 

He let out a high-pitched snicker. “What’d you call me?”

“A meatball! Because that’s what you look like.”

The Ghoul blinked and smirked, then tilted his head. “...You wanna fuck a meatball?” 

She bent over laughing. “No! I wanna fuck you! You are the meatball!”

He snickered and sat down in the recliner. “Sweetheart, I think you’re confused.” 

“How am I confused? I’m not confused.”

“Oh, you’re confused.”

“I’m not confused.” She repeated.

“Oh, yes you are. You donno yo ass from your elbow right now.”

The former vault dweller burst out laughing again. “What did you say!?”

“You nuttier than squirrel turds.” 

Her laughter was nearly uncontrollable as he kept going. 

“You’re as confused as a fart in a fan factory.” 

“A fart in a fan fa…!!” She started wheezing.

“Wheels are still turnin’, but the hamster’s dead.”

Lucy keeled over and held up a palm towards him. “Stop! Please!” Then gasped for breath as she tried to control her laughter. “I can’t breathe!”

The Ghoul started laughing with her. It overjoyed him to see he was able to bring such light to her face. Although, he didn’t think he was that funny. But she was pretty drunk…

“You are so funny!” The young woman nearly wept from laughing, wiping her eyes. “I… I’ve never laughed this hard… in my whole life!” She gasped as she tried to compose herself. “Oh, God… I’m okay… I’m okay…” 

“Oh, girl… you are drunk as hell .” He said and rose his brow. 

“I’m not that drunk. I can consent… Come on. Let’s fuck.” Lucy giggled as she struggled to keep her balance.

The Ghoul pinched the bridge of his nose as he snickered uncontrollably. 

“What? You didn’t think about it? When you had me all tied up?” She teased and put her hands up in front of her with her wrists together, the same way he’d had them tied before.

“ Ho-leeee shit .” 

“You can tie me up again , if you want.”

“Chkk… pffft….” The Ghoul threw his hand over his face and tried to hold back his laughter. 

“What?”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me… Are you really like this?”

“What!?”

“Lil’-Miss-Goody-Two-Shoes is a fuckin’ nymphomaniac?”

“I’m just asking if you wanna have sex. That doesn’t make me a… whatever you said.”

“No, no… You’re too drunk. It ain’t right.”

“Oh, and whadda you care about what’s right and wrong?” She said with a huff. 

“Enough.” He said simply.

“Like I said. I’m not that drunk.”

“Oh, yes you are. You need to sit down and drink some water and eat somethin’.”

“Okay, I will... But about the sex.”

“Not happening.”

“I’m sober enough to consent."

“No.” 

“What if I do all the work? Then you could say I took advantage of you .” Lucy giggled.

“Ahh…” He sucked air in through his teeth, then looked down. “You don’t wanna fuck me, darlin’…”

“Why wouldn’t I wanna fuck you?” 

The Ghoul looked up at her, wondering what she meant by that. 

“You’re the only thing with a dick here, aren’t you?” She added.

Ahh… That hurt a little bit, for some reason. But he played it off. “Oh, you just want me for my cock, is that it?” He scoffed jokingly. 

The former vault dweller grinned, but it quickly faded. “You… do still have one, don’t you? Or did it fall off like your nose?”

“Actually, I got three . Mutations and all that, you know.” 

Her eyes got wide. “Three!?” 

He let out a hearty laugh and held up a hand towards her. “...Kidding, kidding...”

“But you do have one…” 

“I have one . Sorry to disappoint.”

“Well… I only have one vagina , so… that's enough for me .” She said with a confused shrug.

The bounty hunter laughed again, then rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger. “Sweetie… we’re talking about irradiated ghoul dick, here. I could make you very sick. You know that, don’cha?”

“What, like, radiation poisoning?” 

“Very likely.”

“Wait…” She leaned in, her brow furrowing seriously, which contrasted with the comical way she was slightly swaying back and forth. “...Can I have your baby? ”

“Hooohh, whoa, whoa, whoa.” The Ghoul said, and waved his hand in front of him. “Slow down, sweetheart. We ain't even married yet.”

“No, I mean…” She started to laugh lowly when she realized what he thought she meant. “I meant, can you get me pregnant? Like… are you… fertile? Can ghouls reproduce?”

He put a hand over his face. “Lord Almighty.” Then shook his head. “No, I don’t believe we can, sweetheart.”

“Oh, good. Then you don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.” She grinned.

The bounty hunter squeezed his eyes shut, then pinched the bridge of his nose again as he shook his head, laughing. “Jesus Christ.”

Suddenly, Lucy slapped a hand over her mouth.

The Ghoul looked up quickly and his eyes got wide. “Sink.” He said and pointed.

She ran, barely making it as she emptied the contents of her stomach down into the kitchen drain. 

He quickly went over to her, gently pulling her hair back to get it out of the way. “I guess you had a little too much fun tonight, didn’t cha’, Vaulty?” He joked.

“BLEERGHHGHH!!!” Was her only answer. 

“Yep, that’s what I thought.” 

She heaved a few more times before it turned into coughing and heavy gasps for air. 

The bounty hunter exhaled as he watched her closely, then turned on the cold tap. “Try to get some water down ya.”

Lucy did as she was told, cupping her shaky hands and trying to get the water in her mouth. “Oh, God…”

“You’re alright.” He said, and found himself gently rubbing her back. The Ghoul didn’t even realize he was doing it at first. He thought about stopping, but decided not to. What did it matter? She was probably too drunk to remember this later anyway. His main focus was to give her comfort.

He waited for her to stop taking the water, then gently pulled on her shoulder. “You should lay down.” 

Shakily, she nodded and let him guide her to the bed. The whisky had hit her fast and hard, and she suddenly needed help walking. 

“Oh, God… Jesus Christ…” She said as he laid her down on her back. 

He chuckled a bit. “You doin’ alright?” 

“I just… I feel… uh… Jesus… fuck…” 

“I donno if you can fuck him either, sweetheart. But good luck.” He joked, flashing her a grin as he pulled the sheet over her.

She blinked several times, then looked up at him, reaching up and grabbing his arm as he started to pull away. 

“...What is it?” He froze, and as he looked down at her, he could see the fear in her eyes.

“S-something’s wrong…”

“Hey, hey…” The Ghoul said softly, trying to be reassuring as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “You’re just really drunk, sweetie. You’re alright.” 

She grasped his arm with both hands and shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “No, I… I feel like I’m… dying …” 

“Your body’s just panicin’ a little ‘cause you ain’t ever get this drunk.” He said calmly and rose his brow. “Hey. Hey, now. Look at me.”

Lucy looked up at him, her eyes slightly damp.

“That’s right. You just focus on my ugly ass face.” The bounty hunter's smile was self-amused, but also warm. “You gon’ be just fine.” 

The former vault dweller cracked a smile and let out a light laugh. He laughed with her, and after a moment, she said, “It’s not so bad…”

He just smiled at her a moment. “You close yer eyes and try’da get some sleep now.”

“You’re… not gonna go anywhere… are you?” She said, looking worried.

“I’ll be right here, sweetheart...” He said softly. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

The former vault dweller gave him a warm and appreciative smile, before finally closing her eyes and immediately passing out. 

The Ghoul’s smile faded and he let out an exhale. He watched her face a moment while she laid there asleep, admiring her beauty. And after some hesitation, reached up and gently brushed her hair out of her face. 

Finally, he pushed himself up off the bed, very slowly as to not disturb her, then sat down in the recliner next to her.

After a moment, his eyes rested on her again, watching her chest move as she breathed. Then he shook his head in amusement before shifting them over to the television.

The former Hollywood actor swallowed hard, remembering what happened the last time he ran into one of these things, so he opted not to turn it on.

Instead, he gave Dogmeat a scratch on the head, then laid his head back and closed his eyes, deciding it would be best if he tried to get some rest as well.

To be continued...

<< Previous Chapter

[divinemissem13]

"Don't you dare" for Brenda/Sharon (if you're still up for prompts)

I can’t promise to always answer promptly (🥁) but I am always up for prompts! Thanks for another fun one! Tried to be a little less fluffy for a change… with middling success.

~~~~

Sharon smiles as she watches Rusty run around the picnic with the younger kids. He might be a little old for this sort of thing but he didn’t exactly have a lot of normal childhood experiences and it warms Sharon’s heart to see him so carefree.

In fact, she is certain she’s never enjoyed a “loosely required” LAPD social event this much — not even when her own children were young.

Until, that is, she feels a presence next to her and hears the all too familiar drawl. “Amazin’ how much he’s changed. Hard to believe that’s the same kid who was turnin’ tricks in Griffith Park.”

“Chief Johnson — oh I’m sorry, it’s not “Chief” any more is it? What do I call you know? Mrs. Deputy Chief Howard?” It’s a low blow and Sharon knows it, but the two hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms and now she’s insulting Rusty, so Sharon really doesn’t feel too bad about it. “Well, whoever you are these days, Rusty is not a product of the circumstances that were forced upon him in the past and I will thank you not to bring that up again.”

“I’m sorry. For… everythin’,” Brenda says, and it actually sounds like she might mean it. “And whatever you wanna call me, you can drop the ‘Mrs.’” she adds timidly.

Sharon finally turns to look at Brenda and she’s met with those same big brown doe eyes that haunt her dreams. “Fritz?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“Over,” Brenda replies. It is only one word but it carries the weight of the whole dictionary.

Sharon assumed that Brenda had come with Fritz but if not… “What are you doing here?” she hisses, still not willing or able to let herself hope.

“You won’t answer my calls. And I wanted to see you. I… I needed to see you,” Brenda says, fidgeting with her earring.

“Brenda Leigh Johnson, don’t you dare fuck with me again,” Sharon says, a little louder than she intended, drawing curious looks from the people nearby. Sharon grabs Brenda’s arm and pulls her to the relative privacy of a large oak tree. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I wouldn’t… I couldn’t… Sharon, I love you. I’ve been miserable these last few months without you and if you’d have me… I swear to you, to me, you will always come first.” She’s crying by the time she’s finished, silent tears streaming down her cheeks which Sharon gently wipes away with her thumbs.

“I want to believe you,” Sharon whispers. “But how can I trust that you’re not going to run away again? I can’t — I won’t — be your dirty little secret. No more.” Her voice is still soft but there is some steel in it now. She will not cave. Not this time.

Brenda looks up at her, the wheels clearly turning behind those chocolate eyes. “No more,” she agrees, draping her arms over Sharon’s shoulders and pulling her closer. “How’s this for not running away?” she asks.

Before Sharon can respond, Brenda is kissing her. Right there, in front of God and the entire LAPD. No hiding, no secrets. Sharon laughs against Brenda’s lips and her hands go to the blonde woman’s slender hips and pulls them flush against her own. (God how she’s missed this feeling!) “It’s a really, really good start,” she murmurs before deepening the kiss.

All around them, nosy spectators (who weren’t deterred at all by their move behind the tree) begin to clap and cheer. Brenda and Sharon barely even notice.

[nyxindustries]

After The Parents | Tony Stark

Fandom: Mcu(Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Pairing: Tony Stark X reader, Tony stark x Female reader, Young Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do NOT Interact! Sexual Intercourse, Meeting Tony parents (Nice Maria and Howard) Aftercare, Slight praise kink, BREIF cum play( If you squint) Oral Play ( M receiving), explicit languages, explicit content.

| Part 1 | Masterlist |

Arriving outside of Tony Parent's house as you felt your nerves hit you like a truck.

Glancing over at Tony as he put the car in park and looks back at you.

“You’ll be okay. They are going to love you.” Tony says and you nod

“I'm nervous! Your dad is Howard Stark and you know I’m a massive fan of his work and industry.” You say quietly, Tony chuckles.

“Which makes you even more perfect, get my dad talking about his industry and what we do in class, get my mom talking about baking and anything else that’s not related to my father's business. You’ll be okay.” Tony says and you nod softly.

Seeing the front door open as your nerves hit you like a truck. Tony kisses you quickly as he got out of the car and places the keys in his pocket. Tony walks over to your side, opening the door like he usually does for you.

Getting out as you smile softly, “Thank you, Tony” you say, and he closes the door as he takes your hand.

“No need to say Thank you.” Tony says as you giggle, “watch it the steps here are a bit weird” Tony says as you then look up at the giant mansion they own. Gorgeous house, the scheme almost brings modern white and black for the time of the 90s.

Going up the steps carefully as you saw Maria and Howard Stark standing at the door with wide smiles. You made sure you came with the most beautiful dresses and the most covered-up dress you had. It was a black dress that came down to your knees, it was spaghetti, so you had a jacket to cover up your arms, and you wore small wedges and not heels. You put on simple jewelry with the help of Tony.

Smiling at his parents

“Oh, You must be Y/n!” His mother says and she smiles.

“I am. Mr. And Mrs. Stark!” You say, and they smile almost instantly.

“Please Y/n it’s Howard and Maria,” Howard says, and you nod.

“Of course.” You say as they walked inside and you and Tony followed behind.

“Beautiful home.” You say as Howard smiles

“Thank you! I invested a lot in my company and home to make my wife and son comfortable along with happiness.” Howard says.

“You’re doing a wonderful job, especially with your business, by the way, huge congratulations on getting that contract. I keep up with Stark Industries because I’m writing my Bachelor final on the impact you leave on the work, Mr.S-… Howard.” You say, and Howard turns to you.

“Why thank you. You are very knowledgeable then. We could use someone like you at Stark Industries. I heard you're getting into a path to get your Ph.D. too.” Howard says, and you nod.

“Yes, yes, I want to get my doctorate in Engineering and Physics, if anything, probably chemistry too. Hoping, one day, I could work at your company.” You say, and Howard nods with great respect at you.

“Well, I wish you all the best! You’ll be fine! I’ll help you with job searching and so will Tony if you get what I mean.” Howard says and you nod as Tony smiles. You just won Howard over, that’s for sure. You can see Maria smiling over at you, she likes you, but you haven’t won her over yet.

“Oh please! Enough with the business, let’s eat dinner! I made just enough for everyone.” Maria says as you guys walk into the dining room, which is a huge dining room with pictures and family portraits on one wall against the white wall with some gray decor too.

Seeing the food set out on a table as Tony walks up to a chair, pulling your chair out like he always does when you guys go to eat somewhere or even at home occasionally. Home means, you moved in with Tony two months ago after dating for about a couple of months now since the first wonderful date.

“Oh! You cook! I love cooking too, but I do love baking, but can never find the time with school and working as of right now.” You say, and Maria lit up.

“Yes! I love baking! I made some of my famous coconut cream pie for tonight. Not only that, but I hope you like coconut.”

“Like? No, I love it. It’s going to be delicious, I can tell.” You say and Maria laughs

“I like you already! Tony! You choose a good one!” Maria says and you smile more, turning red.

“Thank you, mom,” Tony says as he finally sits down with the rest of us as he took off his jacket.

“Mom, the food looks wonderful. “ Tony says and you nod.

“It does, and smells it too!” You say and everyone chuckled softly with you.

“Oh dig in!” Maria says as everyone began serving themselves, but Tony grabs your plate as you smile at him as he began serving you.

“You didn’t have to,” you say quietly and Tony chuckled

“Yeah or you would have been too shy to do so,” Tony says as he put the gravy on the mashed potatoes on your plate before placing it in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly and Tony shakes his head

Maria and Howard watched the interaction as they look at each other, it reminded them of themselves when they were younger.

“So, Y/n what do your parents do? I mean they must be supportive of all of your big plans” Howard asks, and you sigh quietly as you look down for a moment

“My father is very supportive, he is the reason I am the way I am. My father is my whole world to me, He is a blue-collar worker, he’s a construction worker. Loves building things, he's always fixing something around our house.” You say with a soft smile, and Howard and Maria smile back.

“That’s wonderful, What about your mother?” Maria asks and you look at her.

“My mother died when I was 10, breast cancer… Before she got diagnosed, She was a nurse.” You say, and Howard sighs.

“I apologize for your loss.” They both say and you nod.

“Thank you,” you say and Howard nods as you all begin eating in silence.

“You mentioned work? What do you do besides school” Maria says

“I work at the hospital, Just an in-training clinical position, I help nurses take vitals and check people in and communicate with other staff, things like that.” You say and Maria smiles

“That’s lovely!” She says, and you giggle softly.

“Thank you!” You say and Tony smiled at you, but more as everyone began eating. The conversation carried on at the table until the end of dinner.

—

Helping clear the table with Maria as Tony and Howard went on to talk about the business part of Stark Industries.

“Here’s the rest of the plates from the table, Maria!” You say as you hand them to Maria as she cleans the rest of them.

Going back out as you cleared the rest of the hot sauce and whatnot and helped her put those away, then grab a rag and wipe the table clean.

“So, what made you interested in my son?” She asks as you chuckle, completely caught off guard by the question.

“Tony… he asked me first in the middle of a rainstorm with a rose. I don’t know at first I was never interested in him, then we worked together in school, then I didn't know I just fell in love with him. Then, when he asked to take me on a date all I could think is yes, yes he’s the perfect one for me, he’s gentle and kind, knows how to take care of me, and doesn’t stop at anything, he always motivates me to do better, and I do the way from him, I help him, and he helps me. We both put effort into this, and it’s both a 50/50 commitment we meet each other in the middle, it just works with each other. I just love him for that.” You say and Maria smiles at you.

“We'll, I’ll tell him he got a good girl!” She says, and you laugh as you help her dry the dishes

“Thank you! Thank you for the wonderful dinner and conversation. It’s been a pleasure meeting Howard and you. Thank you for having me in your home too!” You say full of gratitude as she nods.

“No sweetheart, it was my pleasure!” She says as the both of you finish the dishes.

“Let me show you pictures of when Tony was a baby! You're just going to love it!” Maria says as she leads you to the living room. Sitting down as she grabs a scrapbook, sitting down next to you as she opens it, to see baby pictures of Tony litter the first page.

“This is when I first gave birth to him, Howard was so excited but so nervous to be parenting,” Maria says, and you chuckle, flipping through the scrapbook.

“Oh! Look at this picture! He’s too cute.” You say as there’s a picture of him in the bathtub with a bucket on his head, and he’s playing with toys in the bath.

“Oh my god! This adorable, why does he have a bucket on his head though” You ask through your small fit of laughter with Maria.

“I know! So he was so tired in that picture, but I wouldn’t let him go to bed dirty from playing outside and he wanted the bucket on his head to feel like a superhero” Maria made you burst out laughing even more.

At that moment, Tony and Howard walked in with massive smiles and then Tony realized what you are looking for.

“Oh, mom! No!” Tony says, and you laugh

“Look at this adorable picture of you,” you say as Maria handed you the scrapbook, and you held it up to show him the bathtub picture.

Tony gets embarrassed as he sits down next to you and Howard laughs.

“Don’t embarrass our son, Maria,” Howard says and Maria smiles.

“I’m not! I’m just showing her cute photos of Tony!” Maria says as you give her the scrapbook, and she puts it away.

“Okay, who wants dessert?!” Maria alas and you look at Tony as he nods.

“Yes, I would love some,” you say, and Tony smile as he grabs your hand.

Howard began talking as Maria went into the kitchen, and began a big conversation about Tony and the baking Maria did.

—

Slowly getting up as Tony closes the conversation to get ready to leave. It’s about 11p.m. You have work and school tomorrow, while Tony has work at Stark Industries tomorrow.

“Bye mom and dad,” Tony says, hugging them tightly as you smile, then you feel Maria pull you into a hug.

“It was wonderful meeting you!” You say and Maria smiles.

“You are just remarkable, dear! I like you!” Maria says, and you laugh.

“Thank you, thank you so much for having me over. I quite enjoy it. Wonderful meeting you and Howard.” You say to Maria, who nods gracefully, as then you felt Howhug you.

“I have a feeling you’ll be around for a long while,” he says, and you laugh

“Thank you and I hope I am,” you say pulling away from him as Tony gave him his jacket since it was cold out tonight. Having the warmth of Tony's jacket and his hand in yours.

Walking down the steps of his parent's house as you turn and wave to them politely as Tony helps you into the car as he gets into waving his parents’ bye.

Tony starts up the car as you look at him with a huge smile.

“What?” He asks and you just shake your head.

“You have wonderful parents, I adore them” You say.

“Good because my parents really like you too!” Tony says and you smile

“I’m glad! I really did try my best to be a good girlfriend” you say as Tony begins driving, and he laughs.

“I know you were outstanding, baby girl” Tony says, and you chuckle softly as you lean over and kiss him softly on the cheek.

—

Arriving at home, as you sigh out in relief, you can finally take these shoes off.

Getting out of the car with Tony as he opens the door, and you smile at him.

“Home!” You say, and he chuckles with a nod as he locks the door, and you take your jacket off and your shoes immediately.

Feeling Tony pull you in from behind and his hands roam your body.

“Tony-…what are you doing?” You say, and he laughs in your ear as you feel him kiss your neck.

“You were just so incredible with my parents, and they liked you because you were sweet and innocent when I know you're not” he says, and you chuckle softly.

“Oh really? Am I not?” You say and Tony shakes his head as you walk him holding you to the kitchen to put the leftover, Maria insists you take home in the fridge.

Tony, still holding you as he began to massage your breast and your push forward on the kitchen counter.

“Tony, what are you all hot and bothered about?” You question

“You do and especially in that dress” he says, and you chuckle as you feel his hands run underneath your dress.

“Well, you're most certainly not going to fuck me on this counter now. Bed now” you whisper to him, playfully pushing him away from you. Going quickly upstairs as Tony chases you up, making you laugh.

Getting to the bedroom as you are already taking off your dress with a considerable smirk on your face, Tony watching you from the doorway as you throw the dress somewhere, just leaving you in panties and a bra.

Tony stripped his button-up shirt off as he pulls your half naked body into his as he kisses you passionately.

“You're just everything I ever wanted” he says, and you smile

“You're everything I want…” you say and as you push Tony onto the bed as you straddled him, kissing him more than Tony hand reaches behind you, undoing your bra quickly with one hand.

Kissing Tony as you slowly began going down, and Tony watches you with pure lust as began taking his pants off. Getting to his underwear as you saw his giant tent sticking up in your face causing you to lick your lips as you strip his underwear down and his cock sprung up at you.

Grabbing his cock firmly at the base as you put your mouth over his tip, and stroking his cock as you began bobbing your head more, making Tony groan out.

Sucking and licking his cock for a couple of moments as you move your hand from, start deepthroating his cock. Tony groans out more and more as his hand goes to your hair, pushing you down further as you begin gagging on him.

“Mm fuck baby, suck my cock just like that.” He says as he begins bobbing your head for you as you just up at him, letting him use your mouth like a toy.

Tony goes faster as you move your head now at the pace as he slowly lets go of your head to watch you, sucking Tony a lot faster as your tongue slides around all over his cock, teasing it especially when your tongue twirls around the tip, Tony favorite spot to feel your tongue on.

“Mm fuck, I’m going to come in that sweet little mouth of yours.” Tony says as he's thrusting his hips up making his cock hit the back of your throat, you took it the big girl you are.

Keeping your mouth on Tony as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth as you began sucking harder and Tony began cumming in your mouth.

Pulling your mouth away as you made sure you drain his cock with your mouth.

Looking up at him as he watched some of his ejaculate drip out of your mouth as you swallow the load in your mouth.

“Such a good girl.” Tony says as he grabs your face gently pulling you up, as flips you onto the bed, towering over you.

Placing himself at his entrance as you gasp, feeling him in you.

“Mhm fuck” you moan out as he began thrusting fast giving you no time to adjust or anything which you didn’t mind.

Moaning softly as you, he thrusts faster into your wet and tight pussy.

Staring up at Tony with full love and lust in your eyes as he stares back at you, thrusting harder in you.

“Fuck-Tony!” You moan out as he grabs you by the hips, thrusting harder as you felt his hand move up to your breasts and quickly flick at them, massage them with pleasure with one hand. Then, feeling his other hand go back down to your kiss as he began massaging your clit.

Getting louder as you rolled your hips from the pleasure. Grabbing the sheets in pleasure as then, Tony pulled you into your knees as he went on his knees, thrusting up into you.

Tony burying his face into your neck shoulder giving you kisses and hockey’s to have the next day, as your hand ran through his messy hair as you moaned into his ear, you began bouncing harder on him.

Your stomach swelling almost with pleasure as you and him picked up the pace greatly, knowing both of you guys are close, Tony feeling your pussy clench against his cock, making him groan.

“Fuck I’m going to come” you moan out, and he nods in response

“Me too” he says as he thrusts faster into, now dropping you into the bed, flipping you to your side as laid down next to you. Putting his cock in you quickly as he held your leg up and began thrusting into your side away. As you buried your face into a pillow to cover up your loud moans.

Tony grabs your face quickly as he looks at you, and you look back at him, kissing him.

“Fuck, let me hear those pretty little moans.” He says, and you couldn't say any words when Tony starts drilling into you, gripping you by the hips tightly and biting into your shoulder making you scream out in pleasure.

“FUCK! FUCK.” You scream as Tony smirks and without any warning you begin cumming all over his cock. Tony thrusts harder knowing your sensitive right now. You sure as hell was, your legs began shaking as thrusts got more sloppier and your moans got heavier. Reaching his orgasm even more

"Shit baby…I’m gonna cum in your sweet little pussy" he says in to your way

"Fuck yes please do! " you moan out as Tony did one final hard thrust into you, as he began cumming in you.

Tony groans into your ear as you smile softly in response, feeling his want cum in you.

"Oh fuck….that’s was so good" you say as Tony slowly pulls out of you with semi soft cock now.

"Yes it was…You can fool my parents but you can’t fool me. You are nowhere near innocent" he says as he slowly sits up, smacking your ass as look at your pussy , all the cum dripping.

Tony putting a finger in, making you moan softly as his finger got covered in cum and yours.

Tony brings up as he holds your chin and mouth open, sticking your tongue out as wrap your mouth around his cum covered finger.

"Yeah baby taste me and you mixed in together." He says as he watches you slurp it all up. Tony gives you a hard final smack to your clit, making you jump in pleasure.

"Let’s go take a shower" he says as he gets up and walks to the bathroom, your eyes following him with a smile as you slowly get up to follow him.

[dc418writes]

•Baby’s First Hanukkah•

✨Pairing✨: Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: A surprise visit leads to an emotional first day of Hanukkah (Operation:Rekindle addition)

⚠️: Ari (😏….y’all know lol), bit of angst in this one, fluff, mention of pregnancy

A/N🎙️: ✨Happy belated Hanukkah and Merry belated Christmas to those who celebrated! And Happy Holidays to everyone who doesn’t celebrate✨! I intended this to be out wayy earlier but here we are lol also I hope the explanation I have for Hanukkah is correct, but if there’s something I need to change please let me know☺️

*Disclaimer!: although collage was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found on Pinterest*

“Not celebrating Christmas?,” your mother asks with arms crossed and a raised perfectly arched brow. Clearly not pleased with the words that just slipped past your lips.

“I didn’t say that. I just said we’re not gonna make it to the party this year. We wanna stay in and be with ourselves instead you know? We’ll still come Christmas Day.”

“Which is perfectly fine,” your father interjects before your mother could say anything more. “Right Tori?”

You knew this would happen. It’s exactly why you planned to call her the night before with your fool proof excuse of having caught a stomach bug and needing to stay in. No one would get hurt and you could freely spend that evening with Ari. Plus you wouldn’t have to dance around the actual reason you were skipping your family’s annual Christmas soirée.

However, your mother’s perfect timing and knack for pop up visits sent that down the river in a fiery pile of ashes.

“Well, could’ve fooled me with all the Hanukkah decorations and lack of Christmas tree,” she retorts waving her hand back and forth emphasizing the decorations you already set.

“I still have to put it up,” you answer focused on making sure the menorah was properly centered on the island. Or maybe it’d look better on the other table? “And, as I’ve told you before, Ari is Jewish. So these decorations are for him, and to make it feel like his place just as much as it is mine.”

“Mm..and where is Mr. Ari so he can help?”

“He’s still sleeping-,”

“And leaving you with all the work.” A humorless “tuh” huffs from Tori’s lungs as she turns towards your father. “Some boyfriend huh Howard?”

“He was up late studying,” you state finally facing your parents standing in your living room. Your facial muscles working overtime trying to keep your annoyance and anger hidden.

Unknown to you, Ari was wide awake on the other side of the wall in your bedroom hearing every word since your parents stepped over the threshold. Heartbeat already elevated on where this conversation would go.

“Look, I know you’re in love with him-,”

“Tori,” your father tries to warn, but you both knew nothing was stopping her.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to do everything together. Couples can have separate lives sweet girl.”

“I know, and we do-,”

“So it’s settled then! You’ll rightly be with us, you’re family, for Christmas as usual and he’ll be with his,” she smiles. “Which then leaves New Years for you two spending time together.”

Ari didn’t have to be out there to know you were growing frustrated. He could already see your jaw tick and nostrils slightly flare. Feel the heat radiate from your skin to the surrounding air.

“Ari’s my family too.”

“Yea you’re close, but-,”

“No, because he’s my husband,” you reveal in a flurry of words; exasperated with the idea of this conversation continuing.

“That’s sweet of you to claim him for your future-,”

“I’m not talking about the future mom, I mean now! We..we got married in July. At the courthouse.”

Unsurprisingly, there’s a long silence as your parents stand blinking at you. Their expressions unreadable and solely trained on you even when Ari quietly strides by your side in his college tee and sweats.

Your mother’s eyes eventually drift to your hand where your ring prettily sat on your finger. It was simple with just a single diamond that some would consider small, but it was all you needed. And you loved that ring because of the man that gave it to you.

“So that’s not a promise ring like you said,” she calmly states. Everyone around could feel her rising anger though.

“Well technically it is. Just for a..legally binding promise,” you nervously smile. It quickly falls at the sight of their disappointment. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you.”

“After five months it seems like you weren’t planning to tell us at all Y/N!”

Ari desperately wanted to come to your rescue and try to calm everyone, but what could he really say to help? He’s tried before when he felt your mother was being too tough on you while in school scolding you on what you should be doing and when. How you needed to be putting yourself out there in as many clubs and organizations as you could to network and possibly get an internship. Maybe even a job right out of college.

“She’s doing really well and always trying her best Mrs. Y/L/N,” he states standing across your mother on the opposite side of the kitchen island. However, she’s more concerned with perfecting the cake batter in front of her than to look him in the eyes. “I-I get you want the best for her-,”

“Exactly, I want the best for my daughter as any parent does their child,” she calmly replies - scarily calm in fact - lifting her head to finally meet his nervous blues. “Something I know you wouldn’t fully understand seeing as though you have no children. Correct?”

“Right..”

“So until that day comes- actually no, even if that day comes, I suggest you refrain from trying to suggest how I parent my daughter. Understood Ari?”

Nervously shifting from one foot to the other, he agrees with a quiet, “Understood,” and a slight tip of his head before his presence is ignored once again by your now sweetly humming mother.

Since then, he’s kept his interactions with her short - and she’s pretty much done the same on her end.

“I’ll be in the car,” she says after the most tense moment of silence any of them had ever experienced.

“Mom I’m sorry.” Your apology falls on deaf ears as she continues forward striding through the door and letting it slam with a loud thud that rattled the wall. “She hates me.”

“No she doesn’t,” your father sighs stepping close enough to give your shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Neither of us could ever hate you. We’re just hurt.”

A lone tear falls as he places a kiss to your temple and you feel your heart ache. You knew the consequences of your actions all those months ago as you stood hand in hand with Ari in front of the judge. Nothing could have prepared you for actually having to endure those consequences though.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of mom sweet pea. We’ll see you guys on Christmas,” he painfully smiles before making his way out the door as well.

But not without Ari close on his heels catching him halfway down the wooden steps outside your door.

“Mr. Y/L/N it’s my fault. I’m the one who brought up the idea of getting married,” Ari admits with guilt etched into his strong features. “Be more upset with me than you are with her.”

Your father can’t help the small smile that forms on his lips at your husband’s attempt to make things right. Since their first meeting, he could see how he’d gladly do whatever was needed to make you happy. How protective he was and completely enamored by everything that was you. It warmed his heart that you found someone who loved you possibly just as much as he did.

He realized then his prayer for you to be taken care of by a good man had been answered.

“Ari this is no one’s fault, alright? You both are grown, so if you want to get married you have every right. As far as us though, that’s our little girl who we dreamed of walking down the aisle and giving away. Gifting her with a big wedding where we could all celebrate that next stage of life with her and her husband. To not even be invited or told beforehand what was gonna happen it’s..,” he sighs briefly letting his eyes wander trying to find the right words, “it’s as if someone slapped us right across the face before the punch to the gut.”

Ari’s face falls in shame putting himself in the older man’s shoes. Of course he didn’t regret marrying you, but looking back he should’ve pushed more for you to be open with your parents. To not be afraid of their reaction and firm in that this was your decision.

Instead, he went along with your promise of telling them later so clouded by the joy and excitement of being wed to the love of his life.

“It might sound dramatic, but if you decide to have children you’ll understand.”

“No, I-I get it..and I’m sorry.”

Your father nods appreciatively, “Just give us some time son. We’ll be okay.”

Son. That was a good sign right?

“Happy Hanukkah Ari. And take care of my baby girl.”

“Of course sir,” he smiles. “Thank you.”

With a final wave goodbye, he watches your father descend the steps joining your mother in the running car; definitely still upset from the scowl twisting her face as she gazed out the passenger window.

He can hear your sniffles as he re-enters the linen scented space quickening his feet until he can sit next to you on the couch rubbing circles in your back and kissing your forehead.

“That’s definitely not what I wanted you to wake up to,” you half heartedly chuckle wiping your watery eyes.

“Hey don’t worry about that. I’m just sorry I even put you in the situation in the first place when I brought up getting married at the courthouse.”

Your fingers find his jaw softly scratching the bit of scruff lining it as you carefully shift to sit in his lap. “It was still my decision though. And yes I should’ve told them sooner..but I wouldn’t change how and when we got married,” you smile leaving two kisses, sweet as honey, on his lips. A beat of comfortable silence falls over the two of you while he holds you close to his chest gently rocking back and forth. Both of you taking in the sounds of birds and children outside for a few minutes as he occasionally pecks your temple and your heartbeats mold into a similar rhythm.

“Now,” you begin, sitting up to clear your face of any remaining streaks and tears, “I distinctly remember you promising to teach me all about Hanukkah. And cook me every dish until my stomach feels like it’s gonna pop.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay you don’t-,”

“A promise is a promise Ari!,” you dramatically state with a poke to his well built chest making his lips curl in a light chuckle. “Plus I want to. Like I said you’re my family too, and I wanna learn and explore everything about you.”

When he thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, there you were adorably making him fall even harder.

“Okay…so there was once a king named Antiochus, who ruled over Syria and lived outside of Israel. Now this king was horrible and so absorbed with himself, he ordered everyone in the countries he conquered to worship the Gods he did and abandon their usual practices. Eventually, he made his way to Israel where he enforced that order on the Jews and even went as far as commanding his soldiers to destroy our temples if the people weren’t willing to convert them. Unfortunately, this included the most beautiful of them that was in Jerusalem.”

Your attention stayed glued on the man with his arms around you, looking up with an adoring smile to see his eyes sparkle and how his lips moved filling your living room with a deep voice full of passion and animation. You didn’t have to ask to know he was the favorite among his little cousins for storytelling.

“Some followed the king’s orders to avoid trouble, but there were others, like Judah Maccabee, who stood up to him. He and his brothers formed an army to go against Antiochus and the Syrian army to take back their home and free his people from the king’s rule. They were outnumbered, I’m talking like middle schoolers up against a professional team, but they won! They reclaimed Jerusalem and everyone was thrilled, however when they entered the temple in Jerusalem, everything was ruined. The floor was cracked, gold pitchers tarnished, and most importantly, there was no oil to light the menorah. They found a little while cleaning up, but knew it’d only last through the night. Instead though, they were surprised to watch it stay lit for eight days and nights, which they took as a sign that God was with them. So in remembrance of that miracle and our own reminder of how God is always with us, we light a candle on the menorah each night for eight total nights. Plus we spend time with family, eat food, and play games as part of our complete Hanukkah celebration,” Ari smiles brushing a loose curl behind your ear. “Didn’t bore you too much did I?”

“Of course not. I loved it honey.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you peck his lips before nuzzling your face against his warm skin taking in his wood and sage cologne. “I can’t wait until you get to tell it to our kids.”

“Me either, but we still got a good while for that beautiful.”

“Or..it might come sooner than you think..”

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

“Like this summer,” you add being met with silence as you felt his head tilt. Something he tended to do when in thought or confused.

Gently lifting you from his chest, the sight of you nervously biting your lip is all the answer he needs as his expression morphs from confused to disbelief and finally shock. “B-But wait..how- when-?”

“Halloween and our um after party when we left your cousin’s. I’m nearly two months so I just did the math in my head and figured.” Thinking back, he remembers how both of you seemed to be unable to keep your hands off the other as soon as you walked through your apartment door. Him being in some type of hypnotic, aroused trance after watching you play with his toddler cousins and you after just seeing him with his family period. How you couldn’t wait to give him one of his own.

“I-I know it’s not part of our plan right now, especially with you in grad school and me figuring out my stuff-,”

“But it’s okay. We got this.” You hadn’t realized you were crying until you feel his thumb brush along your cheeks. Having kept your stress hidden for all this time, and what happened with your parents earlier, it was probably time to get your emotions out whether you wanted to or not.

“I just hope I live long enough to meet little bug,” he chuckles pressing his nose to your cheek before resting his forehead on yours. “You know your parents are definitely gonna kill me when they find out.”

“They won’t, but if they try I’ll just stand in front of you. They wouldn’t hurt the pregnant lady carrying their grandchild.”

“We might need to be handcuffed together for the rest of your pregnancy then.”

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[saturdaynightghostclub]

The Many Lives of Arthur Llewellyn

You know how sometimes you can look at a person and just know, instinctively, that they came from some cosmic elsewhere? Their face, their clothes, their speech—it all belongs somewhere specific, somewhere other than where they are. Every now and then you come across a time-traveler, an astronaut, a lovelorn Victorian in the body of a twentysomething city-dweller. Your Arthur is one such curiosity, you think. A cursory glance would place him on a street-corner in Greenwich Village, or smoking a cigarette beneath a gas lamp in San Francisco. He’s got that foggy beatnik thing going for him. That he exists among the long-haired, strong-armed Seattleites of 1995 must mean that someone out there in the galactic mist is looking out for you; by all accounts, you should never have met this walking anachronism.

But you did, and against all odds he’s currently sitting at your dining room table and using a set of nail clippers to mend the clasp of a necklace his mother insisted was too broken to continue wearing. He suggested she take it to a jeweler, and her subsequent “Why bother” had riled him up to the point that he insisted on fixing the damned thing himself because, in his words, “Why bother? Why bother buying anything if you’re not going to take care of it? You just throw your clothes away when they get holes?”

“I can feel you staring,” he says now, without looking up. Guilty as charged, you hide your smile behind the copy of Howards End that you’re pretending to read. Maybe he’s a weary ship’s captain, taking meticulous care of what few possessions he has that remind him of his faraway home. Maybe somewhere he’s stowed a pair of red boots, made from fine Spanish leather, for safekeeping until he returns to his aching sweetheart on the shore. Maybe you have an overactive imagination.

Aunt Juley is sick, and Helen won’t come home to the grieving Schlegel family, and won’t she reconsider ending her engagement to Paul? Who cares, when Arthur Llewellyn is carefully slinking toward triumph in the battle against his mother’s gold chain? You turn a page without reading it, your eyes still trained on your boyfriend’s long fingers until, with a soft and disbelieving gasp, he holds the chain up for you to see. The clasp looks brand-new, and even if he did only fix it to spite his mother, your heart flutters with pride—he’s a sensitive one, whether he likes it or not. You happen to know that the necklace was given to Mrs. Llewellyn by Arthur’s father: an emerald pendant, her birthstone. The Llewellyns are not sentimental people (with the exception of their son, that is); according to Arthur, he’s had to practically beg them not to donate his great grandmother’s china sets on more than one occasion. As a consequence, his own apartment is full of antiques and souvenirs he couldn’t bear to see thrown away.

You move closer to him under the pretense of inspecting his work, rising from your chair to stand beside him.

“Very nice,” you say, “are you sure you want to keep going with this teaching thing? I think you’ve got a real future in jewelry repair.”

Arthur tilts his head back to look at you, placing the necklace down on the table. You run a hand through his hair, letting your palm come down to cup his face. He leans into you like a man deprived. You sometimes wonder if his immediate family’s stoicism did a little damage to the part of him that now seems to need your touch like oxygen. “Funny,” he says, “I was thinking the same thing. You think they’ve got good benefits?”

You smile, running your thumb across his sharp cheekbone. He’s been frustrated, you know, in the days leading up to the start of the school year. The school’s curriculum, which he says is “unbearably boring,” leaves little room for creativity, but he’s trying his best. He’s starting his students with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy this year.

Arthur is flexing his hand repeatedly, probably working out a cramp from his delicate operation with the nail clippers. You perch on the edge of the table, sliding back to a full sit, before taking that hand in both of your own. Slowly, gently, you massage the tension out of his fingers while he looks on in awe. “You want to get out of here?” You ask, “It’s a gorgeous day. Take a walk with me?” He nods, allowing you to lead him out of your apartment and into the midday air, perfumed with lilac and salt.

Your building is on one of those dreadful Seattle hills, the ones you don’t realize are as steep as they are until one day you put on your favorite sundress and realize your calves look absolutely stunning. You lead Arthur up the block, ignoring his halfhearted protests until you’ve made it to the top of the hill. There, he lets his hand go to the small of your back, keeping it there as you continue to walk. After a moment’s silence, he leans over to kiss your temple. “I love you,” he says. Casually, like he has so many times. Like it’s a way to fill the silence instead of a world-bending declaration, like he couldn’t bring you to your knees at any moment with it.

“I love you too,” you say, knowing it carries the same weight for him.

“Can I be so corny for a minute?” He asks, his hand moving gently up and down your back as you walk.

“You can be as corny as you want,” you reply. Never in your life have you seen this kind of earnestness in a man. Never in your life have you even wanted it—never, until you had it.

Arthur takes a deep breath. “I’m really happy,” he says, his voice hoarse, “I’m so fucking happy.”

“Sounds like it,” you tease, nudging him.

“I am,” he finally smiles, “I am. It’s scary though, you know? I’d kind of reached a point where I thought happy was a myth. Or, no—not a myth, I just thought it was something for other people, right? Like, when they’d talk about how happy they were, I thought either that they were exaggerating or that there was something wrong with me, because I didn’t know what they were talking about—does that make sense?”

You stop walking for a moment, turning to Arthur. “You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says. You respect his lack of sheepishness. “I’ve had to, you know? It’s like I’m experiencing this whole new facet of human life I didn’t know existed. Like maybe I thought I knew, and you’ve just turned everything upside down.”

You’ve got no choice but to kiss him. There, on the street corner, where it’s nothing short of edenic, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your lips to his, hard and sweet. He gasps against you in that way that you love, that way that lets you know you’ve taken him by surprise once again. His shock is only momentary, however, and within seconds you’re wrapped so tightly in his arms that he’s all you can feel, all around you.

“Arthur,” you say, coming down off your toes and letting your hands drag down his chest, “if this is all it takes to make you happy, then neither of us has anything to worry about.”

The boy is grinning in earnest now, eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, fuck,” he says, shattering the illusion that he is anything but a west coast twentysomething, “Jesus, honey…”

He’s running a hand over his face now, like he’s trying in vain to wipe the smile from his features. “What?” You ask, grinning something awful yourself.

“I just saw the future, that’s what,” he says, sweeping you once again into his arms, “I saw my entire life in your face, it’s all you. All you, forever.”

You can’t help but to laugh, a stunned expulsion of joy you weren’t expecting to feel. “Oh god, you’re stuck with me then?”

“There was never anything else in the cards for me, to be fair,” he says, “and just to be clear, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Arthur’s a bit of a mystic about things like that—souls and stardust and past lives—it took you by surprise at first, but you’ve grown to realize it’s maybe the thing that makes the most sense about him. Of course your out-of-place, out-of-time alien creature of a boyfriend thinks—knows, if you ask him—that the two of you are cosmically entwined. And you, for your part, know that you would rather die than deny him these little fantasies. After all, it’s you who sees a thousand lives in his face, each more complex and profound than the last. Between Seattle and England and outer space and the Pacific ocean, you find yourself hoping against your own iron-clad logic that the two of you will find each other again after this life (and after, and after, and after).