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#he doesn't wake you up like a little shit he is
eyesfullofsttars · 2 days
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☆ obsessed with the idea of ellie & abby being mothers
synopsis: a few headcanons of abigail and ellie being mothers, from the way they raise the baby to the smallest details!!!
notes: hiii!!! i've just been thinking about these two being mothers for the past few days and this came up—sorry if it's simple or too dumb. (don't take it too seriously pls)
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I'm still not sure whether they would prefer having a girl or a boy. It seems it wouldn't matter much to them, as they would raise the baby the same way regardless. However, these two are mothers of a boy!!!
They speak to their baby as though he were a responsible adult who understands everything perfectly and frown when someone uses a high-pitched voice or baby talk.
Abby is the one who always gets up in the middle of the night if the baby cries. She automatically wakes up and goes to see what's wrong with her son.
Meanwhile, Ellie doesn't wake up at night, but she reads a dinosaur book to the baby before bed, tucks him in, and gives him a goodnight kiss on the forehead.
Ellie is enthusiastic about her baby, playing energetically and carefree, tickling him, putting him on her shoulders, and playing with his hands. She's proud of her baby and believes he's the best.
Abby is not so calm, paying attention to her son's safety. She comes from a family of doctors —she's a doctor herself— and watches Ellie carefully whenever she holds the baby. Abby feels the need to keep her son close at all times, either in her strong arms or on her lap, playfully touching his nose or gently stroking his hair.
Ellie can spend hours watching Abby take a nap with their baby. She sees Abby sitting on the couch with the baby on her lap, cuddled against her chest and holding her shirt tightly with his small hand, afraid of losing contact. They breathe softly, calmly together, which Ellie finds adorable — making her feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
At first, Abby worried about seeing Ellie handle the baby so lightly, but she has become accustomed to Ellie's relaxed attitude. Abby watches carefully to avoid accidents, but one of her favorite things is listening to her baby and Els laugh together at something silly Ellie does, causing Abby to laugh too.
Abby "I want to name our son after a writer" Anderson versus Ellie "Let's name our son after a constellation" Williams — Els won!
Ellie helps her son learn to speak by playing her guitar, singing songs about letters, animals, and the names of family and friends.
Abby cheers and celebrates every time she sees the baby trying to stand, keeping his balance by holding onto the couch. She's proud of her little prodigy and also believes her baby is the best.
Ellie lets her son trace the lines of her tattoo and even color the spaces with markers. She accepts without complaint, extending her arm for her child to do his art.
Abby lets her son comb her hair. She loosens her blonde hair and trusts her baby's hands as he tries to comb her long hair, clumsily attempting a braid but failing.
Ellie can't help but swear in front of the baby, as she hasn't managed to change her language yet. She often ends up letting out a curse word, especially when the baby does something that excites her.
She might say something like, “Fuck yeah, you're so intelligent, kiddo!” Or, whenever the baby cries for no reason, Ellie will get completely flustered and not know what to do, like, “What the hell do you want from me, dude? I can't help you if you don't tell me!”
On the other hand, Abby doesn't see the appeal in swearing in front of their son. So, whenever a curse word slips out of Ellie's mouth, Abby quickly exclaims; “Language, Williams!”
No matter where she is in the house, she can always hear Ellie swearing, which ends with Ellie responding with something like, “Fuck, sorry, babe. Shit, right, sorry, buddy. It just comes out like verbal vomit; I can't control it.”
Every time a rock song plays, Ellie can't help but do headbanging, and her son joins her in the fun. Both end up in the kitchen, energetically moving their heads to the music and dancing around.
For every special occasion, such as Valentine's Day, birthdays, or even Easter, Abby doesn't hesitate to buy flowers for Ellie and her son.
Both understand their child perfectly. The child might babble something unintelligible, but they simply nod, comprehending every word.
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golden-cherry · 1 hour
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deal - cl16 (28/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.
Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit
Word Count: 4.5k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!
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"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."
Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"
Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."
Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."
Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 
Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.
Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."
You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"
He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 
His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."
He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 
Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 
Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.
He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 
Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."
Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 
He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."
You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"
"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 
"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 
"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"
The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 
"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 
"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 
Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 
"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-
"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 
When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 
"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.
Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 
So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?
You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 
What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 
Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 
You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."
The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 
Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 
The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 
Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 
You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 
You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 
Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?
And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.
You: You're the best. See you soon.
While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 
When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 
"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 
"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 
You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 
"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."
"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 
"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."
"I guess so."
He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."
Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"
Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"
"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."
You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 
He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 
"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 
You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 
Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?
But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 
And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 
Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?
You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 
"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 
"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"
"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 
"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"
Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."
Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.
The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 
"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."
"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"
You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 
"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"
"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 
"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 
"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."
When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."
"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."
"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 
"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 
"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 
"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."
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Act Naturally
Summary: Lucy has always had a crush on her dad's favorite actor, Cooper Howard. So imagine her surprise when the Western actor ends up as her new husband.
Pairings: Pre-War Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean
Warnings: None yet? I just really wanted to see Prewar Cooper with Lucy. Let's pretend and have fun. ❤️
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Cooper doesn't remember how he signed up to be put inside a big ass freezer, or how being frozen constituted being a "good" vault as his late wife once put it. But he was here now, and the actor would do his best to make the best of it.
After "moving" from Vault 31 to Vault 32, Cooper had little time to settle in before he was being summoned to the overseer's office and being informed that he'd been selected to partake in Vaults 32 and 33's arranged marriage program. He would be paired with a young woman named Lucy Maclean and would be expected to help "rehabilitate" America when the time came.
Cooper thought it all sounded like a load of horse shit, but he sighed and went along with it. He didn't have the will to fight against it right now, not when it still felt he was trying to wake up from the longest nap in his life. So, he waited at the back of the line of other vault dwellers for the massive cog door to spin open so that he could meet his new wife.
He doesn't pay much attention to what his overseer is saying. His gaze has already been caught by the dark-haired beauty that stands just behind Vault 33's overseer. She's pale with big brown eyes and in a classic wedding dress and cute white heels. He watches her rock back and forth on them, a nervous blush painting her cheeks pink.
"So um. Who am I marrying?" She blurts at some point, and Cooper already feels endearment curl in his chest. She was adorable.
He takes that as his cue to step out into the light, a friendly smile on his face as he stands before Lucy. He isn't expecting the young woman's face to explode in a blush, her eyes going wide and a hand slapping over her mouth as if she can't believe what she's seeing. Cooper raises a brow, confused, and looks down to see if he's got something on his suit.
"You didn't tell me I'd be marrying Cooper Howard, Dad," Lucy hisses, tone dripping in accusation.
*notes* just something short and cute I couldn't stop thinking about. They'll be another part eventually 😄*
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On Mate Behavior: Elriel (Part Two- Scent)
Another day of an SJM Instagram jump scare with more stories and no book accouncement (though I am HAPPILY celebrating indie bookstore day with you all!)- So it's another day to be on my Elriel shit. Will we still want posts like this once the announcement is out and we are done fighting for our lives? I feel like the announcement is coming soon so I need to sneak in all my thoughts!
In my previous analysis, I highlighted a moment that would have been perfect for Azriel to display some mate-like behavior towards Gwyn, and it was sorely lacking. You can catch up on that post here!
Today I would like to discuss another area lacking in mate behavior in the BC between Azriel and Gwyn, but present for... drumroll... Elriel. And that is scent.
Bringing back Nessian's bonus chapter to start the parallels, because I do think an additional bonus lends itself to the fairest basis for comparison (also if I used book examples from ToG to CC regarding romantic parings/mates and scent I'd be here for several hundred years):
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Cassian is so lost in Nesta's scent that he had to stop himself from letting his eyes roll back into his head while breathing her in. This... sounds familiar:
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Azriel's eyes also nearly rolled into the back of his head because of Elain's scent.
As previously mentioned, scent plays a huge role in mates/romantic pairings. I was chatting with my friend @faeprincesswarrior when I first started thinking about the scent thing, and she remembered that Rhys could smell Feyre's scent before they even met. He would wake up with her scent in his nose. Cassian and Azriel both can hardly control themselves when they take in the scents of Nesta and Elain.
Scent plays an important role in romantic pairings, and is honestly probably one of the things SJM lays on the thickest throughout the entirety of her multiverse and she has a tendency to drop it early on, often as an initial indicator. Yes, sometimes scenting is platonic, but Gwyn and Az don't even have that on page. There is simply no mention of scent in their portion of the chapter, but it is heavy in Elain's section.
*Crescent City 3 Spoiler* Even when Ithan is done with all his side quests and spends just a few moments with Perry, he's suddenly like mmm... strawberries and cinnamon. No other indicator of mate behavior there but MANY readers only needed that little nugget to be like- something's cooking here.
Again, in addition to Azriel's lack of response to directly recalling Gwyn's assault from his POV on page- something I would have liked to see to indicate feelings could be brewing there- there is also zero mention or indication that Azriel experiences Gwyn's scent at all. Even something small, like "a shift in her scent" at his arrival, or noticing a change in her scent from her flash of memory as well (as it happened between Nesta and Cassian.)
Azriel lost his mind over Elain's scent in their bonus chapter, just as Cassian lost his mind over Nesta's scent in theirs.
Azriel makes no mention of Gwyn's scent in the BC. It's as if to him, she doesn't even have one.
I want Azriel and Elain to be together because Azriel and Elain want to be together. They experience what romantic pairings experience together, and it is delicious.
I love Gwyn, which is why I think if she is going to have a romance in the future, she deserves more than a regifted necklace and a male who is drowning in the scent of another female's kitty and doesn't even notice what Gwyn smells like. This is really what we want for her?
Hoping for a book announcement soon. Do you guys like seeing Sarah post more? I have mixed feelings. Part of me thinks it is gearing up for an announcement which is exciting. Part of me also is tired of the jump scares and wants complete silence unless it is a book announcement. Judge me if you must!
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salamandergoo · 21 hours
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STWG Prompt: Buzzed/Shaved Head
"Woah, what the hell?"
"Hi Lucas."  Will sat down at the table, acting as casual as he could.  "Good morning to you too."
"That's not- what did you do?"  Lucas stared at Will with wide eyes.  "Where'd your hair go?"
"Cut it off."  Will shrugged, taking a bite of his cereal.  "I mean, I thought it was time for a change.  And El's been... she's been upset about her hair.  She'd been growing it out so long, it's another thing that got taken away from her.  So I thought... you know, I could do something to show support."
"That's... kinda sweet.  It doesn't look bad, you know.  It's a good look, actually.  Once you get past the shock."
Will's lips twitched.  "Thanks."  He ran a hand over his head, the short hair bristly against his palm.  "It does take some getting used to, I guess.  But I wasn't really doing anything with my hair anyway.  Just let mom cut it when it got too long.  So last night I asked Jonathan to shave it off for me."
"I mean, it looks good, I'm serious.  Maybe short hair was always the right look for you."  Lucas nudged his foot against Will's under the table.  "You're a good brother."
"Yeah, I try."  He grinned, almost bashful.  "And it's nice to make a change."
Mike joined them, looking tired, eyes half shut as he sat down.  "Mmh."
"Good morning to you too."  Will snickered.  "Sleep okay?"
"Slept like shit."  Mike rubbed his eyes and finally opened them to look at Will.  "Um."  He stared for a long moment and Will was shocked to see the barest shade of pink rising in his face.  "Your hair, it-"
"Yeah, I woke up and it just looked like this."
"What."  Mike blinked a few times, pretty obviously still waking up.
Will snickered.  "I'm kidding, oh my god.  I did it last night.  Jonathan helped.  What do you think?"
"What do I think?"  He just kept staring, going quiet for a long moment.
Will felt his heart start to sink and tried to remind himself that it didn't matter what Mike thought.  It wasn't like he could take it back, he couldn't grow his hair back just because Mike didn't like it.  "That bad?"
"No!"  Mike shook his head rapidly.  "No, that's not- good.  It's really good.  You look really good.  I mean, your hair.  It's good.  You look good."  The blush darkened, his cheeks red.
"Oh."  Will could feel a blush of his own rising.  "Thanks Mike."  He touched his hair again, not used to the texture under his fingertips.  "It's different, but I thought it was time for different."
"Different is good.  You're good.  You look so good, I mean-"
"Mike?"  Lucas spoke up, eyebrows raised as high as they'd go.
"Hm?  Oh, hi Lucas."
"Stop talking."
"...yup."  Mike nodded and sunk down in his sat like he wanted to hide.
Will couldn't help his wide grin or the hope blooming in his chest at the look on Mike's face and the way he was tripping over his words.  He tried to push it down, but maybe, just for a little bit, he'd let himself be content with it.  "Thanks Mike.  I'm glad you think it looks good."
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hehe scenario. jupeter coming out the other side of All That with a bit of 'wow you're just straight up a bit codependent but maybe that's actually the best-case scenario for you right now carry on fellas'
oh they've Had Their Talk in the aftermath, and, okay, it's agreed that they are Not Doing Romance because Nureyev needs Time To Grieve and it would be better to Take The Pressure Off Of Being In A Relationship and they will Reevaluate when Nureyev's had a chance to be a guy who doesn't have to worry about where his next meal is coming from. but also Like Hell is Juno just going to Leave Him Alone after all this. and the result is that they spend the Big Crash just. completely unhinged about each other. Nureyev's shot past 'feeling vulnerable around Juno scares the shit out of him' and well into 'raw nerves and gaping wounds and compound trauma and feeling vulnerable about literally anything and everything all the time and being around Juno is integral to not spiraling into the abandonment hell vortex'. meanwhile Juno's like 'holy shit Nureyev is letting me be there for him. this is already incredible progress'
u think they were insufferable on the Carte Blanche well. on the Carte Blanche Nureyev was still working on things like trusting Juno enough to let him back in at all and he Had An Image To Maintain and lots of Private Stuff to Deal With and Juno was still figuring out how not to be a prickly ass all the time and 'when is it appropriate to give your bf his space when your default mode is to Investigate Shit' and none of that is a going concern right now
'sometimes you gotta be a little bit mentally ill to handle the mental illness' they have so much separation anxiety and they are clipping their carabiners together. hooking pinky fingers and following each other when one needs to do something in the next room. where's Nureyev? sitting in Juno's lap again. his ass is experiencing 'nervous system doesn't know how to respond to the sudden removal of constant crushing dread and just goes fucking haywire at unpredictable intervals'. he gets random-ass panic attacks and there's only so much the breathing exercises and the grounding exercises and self-soothing techniques can do compared to 'Juno is here and he's fine and he's safe and he is more than happily providing prolonged physical contact' to get him to calm down on a physiological level
meanwhile Juno's like 'i chased this idiot across half the galaxy because he wouldn't ask for help and had to deal with him being all stone-faced and cold about it, do I look like i mind that he's clingy now? a lady does not need his personal space at this time. a lady is living for this. a lady is also maybe feeling clingy have u considered that'
everyone who isn't rita (idek who. melee? the other vivopolis refugees??) is assuming they are just getting a very bad grade in taking it slow and are barely humoring them about it. and neither bothers with denying the boyfriend allegations but it's not bc it's true it's they're just. too exhausted to get defensive about it
rita: and i mean they ain't actually smooching too loud in the kitchen or whatever
melee probably: he just came out of Juno's room wearing Juno's shirt
juno: he's a thief that's his shirt now
(12 hours earlier:)
nureyev: (shows up to juno's room at 3am) im sorry for waking you i had nightmares about [the bomb/the carte blanche raid/dokana capturing you] i just needed to see that you were alive and make sure im in the reality timeline and then i will go back to-
juno: get in loser we're watching bad cops
rita: hi mista' n do you want some of this blanket
nureyev: that's very kind but im afraid im
juno: yeah hold up he's like really sweaty im gonna get him a clean shirt
nureyev: you really don't need to-
juno: how are you even still standing up when you're shaking like that
nureyev: that is. an excellent question
juno: anyway welcome to the club i fired rita like an hour ago bc i had nightmares about her dying on the asteroid
rita: i had one where i was gettin chased by this big stompy plant monster with lotsa teeth and i had to distract it by throwing all my snacks behind me and then i was outta snacks and then i was up getting more snacks when mista' steel fired me
rita: you know i think only reason i ain't got separation anxiety about mista' steel is because we spent all that time in the ruby together while we were chasin' after you and that gets a gal over it real fast
juno: thanks rita :P
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prettymeoww · 2 days
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They say that a quiet, measured life is boring beyond belief, stability sooner or later always bores you and you deliberately look for something that will excite you to the very bones, shake your consciousness to bright flashes, something new and unbelievable... They say that it's impossible to live without a person who fits into your limits and a little beyond them.
Will says the author of these speeches is a complete asshole.
Will has been searching for so many years for just this life, smooth and enveloping, but all he finds are the mind-squirming events and days that have no count and only an endless string of thoughts.
“When will it all end?”
“Is this what life is supposed to be like?”
He can't remember the last time he slept. Not falling into a dark something along with alcohol, not looking indifferently and simultaneously with horror straight into his hidden fears, but sleeping. Sometimes when you wake up, it's hard to distinguish whether you were in a dream, or catching delusions in reality, still hugging a half-empty bottle of whiskey, which only makes it constantly worse.
Even trying to keep the last bits of living feelings alive by genuinely caring and giving the only possible love to his many dogs draws too much energy. Where does a man come from that doesn't know why he lives? Who longs to find the damn thread that will help him cling and hang on, even if it's on his last breath, but which will help him feel really real and not an “empty” piece of meat.
Graham never knew that, and he doesn't know it after Lecter shows up in his life.
The most ambiguous character in the gray life, as if you look at him and can not understand what feelings you have: interest, dislike or something mixed of all at once?
He brazenly invaded Will's little world, imposed his own order, which could not be called such (but more chaos) and took Graham completely in his power. Dependence on someone... a depressing situation, but the profiler realized it too late, only at the moment when he was too close to his new “friend”.
So much so that he was touching himself too often, and Will could practically feel the damn smirk on his lips. It was as if Hannibal was slowly accustoming his patient to constant contact, and not just with their souls.
What did he need? What could Graham give to a wealthy manipulator who craved control over his entire environment and more?
One day, even Lecter himself couldn't answer that question.
He just wanted to own him. So much so that he put his life on the line.
So much so that he literally put it in Will's hands and told him to do whatever he wanted.
But by this point, the detective had been through too much shit at the hands of the same 'friend', and such 'self-sacrifice' was seen as mock redemption. He'd waited too long for Lecter to accept such a gift. He was tired of waiting for him to hope for a quiet life. It was foolish to believe that he could give it....
Because Will is the most coveted fruit of existence in Lecter's life, in which there can be no safe harbor. Always standing on the edge of the abyss, they will stare into the depths of each other's eyes and think of how they can never unlock their hands again.
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xmissrogersx · 21 hours
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“Because it’s pink” | Joel Miller
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tags: Post-Outbreak. Fluff. Domesticy.
a note from me: yes, again i inspire myself in gilmore girls. Every time i see Lorelai and Luke is like “i need to write this like is in Jackson right now”
my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.
i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.
pris masterlist
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-¡Paris! —I woke up with a start and turned my head in shock to see Ellie at the door.
-Hi, hey...
-What are you doing?
-Having a heart attack —I leaned back on my pillow.
-I'm going to be late for the presentation, ¡it's 7:15!
-No, it's 5:45...
-¡Paris, it's 7:15!
-No, Ellie for God's sake, I set the alarm clock to go off... —she took my watch from the bedside table showing me the time.-It's 7:15, I don't understand how it didn't ring, I swear I set it....
-7:16 —she said behind me.
-I had to take some sheets to Maria, I was going to get my clothes ready to go to your presentation and now I have to iron them and...
-7:17...
-You know what, time lady, why don't you go make some coffee and buy some time? —she came down the stairs, while I was trying to find my boots and fix my hair a little.
-Notes, decorating for the stage, looking for music...
-¡7:18! —she shouted from the dining room.
-¡Oh for the love of God! —I finished getting dressed.-It’s the last time i accept something just because it's pink.
Ellie was in the kitchen with what to carry for the recital under her arms. I grabbed my cup of coffee and drank some. I was going to pour it into my little thermos, but it was nowhere to be found.
-Shit, Joel's taking it to work —I remembered, smacking my forehead.-Never mind, I'll ask Maria. Okay, ready? —we ran to the door.
───────────────────────
-It’s done.
Joel along with other Jackson men were finishing building the library.
-Big brother —Tommy exclaimed when he saw him.-I didn't remember you being such an early riser.
-It has to be finished, doesn't it?
-Sure, you must have a very important reason for wanting to finish quickly —laughed the dark-haired man as he saw Joel's familiar scowl.-Really, it's good to see you happy again.
-She loves to read, it's the least I can do.
-Really? From what you showed me you have in your pocket, that's not all you want to do —he smiled, to which the elder Miller sighed.
-What if she really doesn't want to? What if she ends up realizing she missed an opportunity to be with someone her own age?
-Is this the same woman we're talking about? She went up against a bunch of crazies to get you penicillin and save your life. She crossed the country from one end to the other dealing with your sour ass, and yet she looks at you with an adoration I've never seen before.
Joel smiled softly as he remembered how he left this morning and seeing her sleeping peacefully with one of his shirts covering her breasts and torso. He had to restrain himself from waking her up and ripping it off himself.
-What the...?
His brother snapped him out of his trance as he saw the two people who occupied his entire world speeding across the street.
-¡Paris, the violet leaves! —Ellie exclaimed as she watched them slip.
-Shit! —said the blonde to duck, trying to keep the other things she was carrying from slipping.
-She's a little nervous, isn't she?
-Lately a little bit, in the last few days. The other night we were watching a movie and she was a little dizzy, and she said it must have been dinner. I can't stand to see her like that.
-Dizzy? You mean with dizziness and vomiting?
-A little, maybe, why?
Tommy was still shocked that his idiot brother didn't realize what was happening.
-What?
-You need to talk to her, now. Go, I'm still here —he practically pushed him out of there.
───────────────────────
-We're here! I'm really sorry I'm late... —I said, putting my things on the tables.-My alarm didn't go off.
-Everything is under control, since I know you are a perfectionist beforehand and I don't want you to stress yourself, especially at this moment —I stopped in my tracks because of the last thing she said.
-Why did you say that?
Maria turned to me and took my hand.
-Paris, I realized it two weeks ago, but I wanted you to confirm it for me.
I looked at her with tears in my eyes still unable to articulate a single word.
-So, how long exactly?
-I couldn't tell you an exact date...
-Of course, it's true, there's no way you could be in the same room for 5 minutes without jumping on each other —I covered my mouth to contain my astonishment and lightly hit her arm.
-¡Maria!
-Please, girl, next time for the love of the children here, close the blessed bedroom windows.
Our laughter flooded the place, plus my face was about to explode in the full range of red colors. I was thankful Ellie wasn't near us and had heard.
-Darlin'.
-Hi, cowboy —he put his hand on my waist to bring our lips together. Shit, and it had only been 3 hours since we'd seen each other and I was already missing being in his arms.
-Are you okay, don't you feel sick? —he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
-Why do you ask? —I saw how he looked at me with fearful eyes. I took his face and looked into his beautiful brown eyes.-Babe, I'm fine, what's wrong?
-The last few days you've been nauseous, and I know it's not your stomach because we both know you and Ellie have it made of iron, baby.
I sighed, pulling the air out of my lungs, releasing some of the pressure I was feeling, as if I needed to finally say the sentence stuck in my chest.
-I'm pregnant.
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yuwuta · 4 hours
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i loooooove homewrecker megumi so much you have no clue 😵 this is also a pipeline to toxic ex! Megumi >.<
He listens to 'boy is mine' by Ariana Grande n 'kill bill' by SZA and immediately starts thinking of you. Just all that listening/ lecturing from gojo n toji he must've gotten growing up completely wrapped his perception of relationships.
you two were dating in his mind long before he asked you out and date farrrr longer than what you think because he doesn't count (-all-) the times you've broken up
ok so here’s the thing i’m really bad at envision any kind of exes/ex-relationship with 90% of the jjk boys because there’s no… there’s no getting out of that LOL you’re locked in for life with them. most of them would, quite literally, rather die than break up 
the exception to this in my head, personally, is toji. he’s like, the fun ex to have around. you two can joke about how he’s been inside of you, and how you know he drinks tea with his pinky up but also be completely platonic. there’ll always be a funny kind of sexual and romantic history, but if you need a cheeky friend in your life, keeping toji around is the way to go. also if you ever just truly want a one-off hookup, he’s your guy
but megumi and infidelity… goes a bit too hand in hand i fear. especially megumi as your best friend… he couldn’t care if your current boyfriend lives or dies, so there is no moral weight on his shoulder knowing or acting on being in love with you. him being in love with you/dating in his head so true… you are not just single to him if you’re in a relationship with someone else, you are, inevitably, going to choose him and honestly, he’s getting tired of waiting for you to realize that he’s right for you; no matter how good of a match your boyfriend might be for you, the simple truth is megumi is a better match. you can realize that on your own, your boyfriend can realize that for himself, or megumi can step in and help you <3 
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front-facing-pokemon · 10 months
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#bonus under the cut getting that snout facing right at the camera#camerupt#early 2000s animation cow‚ apparently. that's what someone just said about the bonus image. i honestly never understood this thing's name#i always thought it was pretty obviously a cow. but then its name implies camel. camel erupt. camerupt. is there a specific kind of#camel that just looks like a cow?? or. what. or am i just misremembering what camels look like#either way‚ i still think this pokémon is pretty cool‚ but i don't really use it ever in my own playthroughs. i don't think i *ever* have#not even in pokémon colosseum where i'm pretty sure you can get a shadow numel at some point. bc i already had a fire-type#not sure which one it was but it was definitely one of them. maybe cyndaquil? because of the dudes with the johto starters#that you fight near the beginning in pppp uuuhhh the PHENAC city i couldn't remember the name. for a second there.#i wasn't aware as a kid that their outfits corresponded to the type of the starter they had and also that you could only fight one of them#i think as a kid i was under the impression that there was only the one. for some reason i remember fighting the green one#oh wait they have the second-evos yeah. cuz he had bayleef. and the red one would've had quilava. not cyndaquil#ugh my memory is not very good evidently. i'm writing these tags after work. normally i do them right when i wake up but this time i just#do not have an excuse for not being able to remember shit. this is just on me. maybe it's amplified by the fact that i have yet to eat today#which i have a very bad habit of doing. forgetting to eat all day and not eating until like 5 and then that being my only meal for the day#i'm trynna get better about it but it is Not easy for some reason. for something that should be decidedly very simple#but my brain doesn't often let me eat until i've completed all of my silly little Tasks. so. idk. this will however post the day after i've#arrived back home from my trip which is nice. the first time future me will be sleeping in her own bed again. good luck again future me#you might need it
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vvanessaives · 1 year
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no pairing in the world will ever serve as much cunt as a courier x benny one, i will die with this truth in my heart
#rena.txt#benny is bi btw you can try and tear away from me this notion but i will bring it with me in the grave#like it might be my bias for my moira/benny but like the insanity of it all makes me delirious.#this guy in a fucking checkered suit talking all weird puts a bullet through the couriers head but he's so fail cringe that they survive an#now they are hunting him down. like for me the funny thing with moira is that it's all a matter of obsession. you saw me put benny under#enemy & lover in that template but lord is it all in her head. like she wakes up after a near death experience with half of her memories#lost and pre-incident moira would've tried to get the package back only out of spite but in this case it's simply bc..she is missing a#purpose now. she doesn't remember any family or friend or personal desire beside the fact she was there to deliver a package and she doesnt#even know what's inside. retriving is the only purpose to keep on living now. that and revenge which leads to obsession. but along the way#as she discovers piece after piece of benny. retracing the road that lead him to her..obsession gets more and more intense and suddenly#he's like a lover to her like they just had a silly little lovers quarrel that ended with a bullet. and it's all in her head and ofc ALL on#sided like the only interaction is the canon meeting at the tops that leads to the canon fucking akfjskf (again very silly cringe fail of#benny to even accept fucking the person he thought he killed. i love him) and it's like. the whole road she did with this idea of meeting#him and love (lmao) but he's there now and she can't kill the revengeful part of her obsession and for a second it's all like a dream. THE#dream that lived so long in her head. the ILLUSION. but now it's all so real and the Only end here is his death and she doesn't avoid it.#she embraces it she's HAPPY to kill him to have her revenge but the obsession..the obsession never leaves. now that he dies what's left?#and what about all the lil movies of them (insane) she played in her mind? so she's crying and laughing at the same time now in a mixture o#euphoria for finally taking tf out from the world that piece of shit and pain for the end of her little mind-movie. a fight between#irreality and reality. her illusions and the cold dead body resting next to hers.#i could eviscerate this concept forever just know i love my insane lil gal
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kazumahashimoto · 3 months
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happy for you guys that are excited for rebirth
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Dear Hearts and Gentle People 12
Pure Indulgence 3
Summary: You and Cooper have stayed a couple of weeks in Goodneighbor, and as much as John wants the two of you to stay, he knows that he could never ask either of you to. It's a shame the mayor has always had a problem with falling hard and fast.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader / John Hancock x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut and drug use. It's more fluffy than anything, I think. John is sad 😔
Masterlist
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You wake to the sound of hushed, husky voices. Your head throbs from the alcohol the night before, but it's manageable enough for you to crack your eyes open. The first thing you see is a scared chest, and you peek up to see that you're cuddled against John. The mayor has you tucked close, a cigarette between two fingers on his free hand, and black eyes looking at the other ghoul that sits on the edge of the bed.
"Commonwealth is a dangerous place. We've got shit you won't ever believe," John rasps over you, and you hear the familiar timber of Cooper’s voice respond seconds later.
"Ain't nothin' we can't handle. Besides. It's not like we'll be stayin' long."
You hear the change in John's heartbeat. It speeds up, and the grip he has around your shoulders tightens for a split second before relaxing again. You smell the acidic smoke that Hancock blows out his ruined nose and hear the odd tilt of his voice when he speaks up.
"Yeah, I know, Coop," John exhales heavily with another plum of smoke, "Still plan on leaving today?"
You watch Cooper shrug his shoulders and take in the expance of his scared back. There are bullet and knife woulds everywhere. You've mapped out most of them with your hands and tongue and lips. So has John.
You don't like the thought of leaving the ghoul behind, but exploration calls your name, and you know that it'd be unfair to drag the mayor away from his home. You didn't think it was possible for you to care for another like you did Cooper, but here you were.
"If she wants to. I'm just the muscle. She's the girl with the plans," Cooper rumbles, and the bed dips when he shifts to face John on the bed. He holds a canister of jet and exchanges the chem for the cigarette that the other ghoul holds. He casts his eyes down and smirks when he notices that you're awake.
"Speak of the devil," He quips and reaches out to pat your sheet covered ass, "How long've you been up?"
John shifts below you, and you gift the mayor a small smile. You shrug in answer and turn to place a chaste kiss against Hancock's chest.
"Long enough," you murmur, and John tenses under you. It's obvious that you've been listening in on their conversation. You don't like making the ghoul feel bad, but lingering any longer, and it would be all the worse.
"How'd you sleep, Sunshine?" Hancock asks, and his free hand smooths over your back to gently stroke your hair, pulling it away and out of your face. It's a forced change in subject, but you don't mind.
"Considering I'm the meat in a ghoul sandwich - pretty good," you tease with a snicker. Hancock wheezes a laugh, and Cooper rolls his eyes at you, though you still catch a fond look sent your way.
John watches the smoothskin and the other ghoul. He doesn't want them to leave. He likes having your easy amusement around and Cooper’s dry, western humor. The two of you were like taking one of his favorite grape mentats every time you rolled into Goodneighbor, and it hurt to know that you planned on leaving the Commonwealth.
The two of you belonged in his town, and Hancock could only hope that neither of you would forget about him. It sounded sad and pathetic even to his own ears, but John had always had a problem with loving a little too easily.
He licks his dry lips and forces a smile, "Let's talk serious for a second, yeah?" Usually, John wasn't down for things like this, but you? You made him feel different. He suspected it was the same thing about you that made Cooper stay around.
"You'll be careful out there. The Institute isn't just some fairy tale like you hear people whisper about in the streets. Not to mention those tin cans that still patrol around here-."
The mayor of Goodneighbor shuts up with a disgruntled huff and glares at Cooper, who had grabbed his leg and dragged him down to lay on the bed. The other ghoul glares right back, lips mulled into a mean smirk. You, having been dislodged in the sudden motion, find a comfortable seat on John's lap and grin down at him.
"Told you earlier not to be thinkin' bout that kinda stuff, John, " Cooper groused from where he lounged behind you.
"Yeah, just cause we're leaving doesn't mean we're gonna be gone forever," you say and reach out, placing your palms on his sunken cheeks and smiling down at him, "You're a part of us now, even if we're not here."
John can't help but smile back and turn his face to press a kiss to your wrist. You were right, of course, but the ghoul would still miss the two of you.
"Then how about you give me something to remember you by, Sunshine?" Hancock says, and his hands come up to land on your hips, his own rocking up and against your exposed sex. His cock drags through your folds, and the ghoul groans at the heat you put off. His fingers dig into your sides hard enough that dark marks would bloom by the evening.
Cooper watches from behind you, a satisfied smirk crossing his lips when he sees John's tip catch your opening and you slide home with a hiss. Despite his initial feelings, it's always a pleasure to watch you and the other ghoul fuck. John liked things slow and steady, something that the bounty hunter didn't have the patience for. It wasn't hard to see that the mayor had fallen quickly. Cooper couldn't blame him.
He makes himself comfortable, eyes latched to where John pistons in and out of his smoothskin, your cunt clenching around the other man's length as you dig your nails into the flesh of Hancock's shoulders. The two of you are loud and shameless, and Cooper knows that if he misses anything about the Commonwealth, it would be this.
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buckyalpine · 4 months
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40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.
Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.
You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.
Bucky was in love.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"
“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"
“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.
"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.
He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.
How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.
So much closer.
-
"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"
You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.
“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.
"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"
"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.
All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-
“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"
You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.
“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”
His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.
"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.
Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.
-
You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.
"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.
"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.
You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.
"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"
He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.
"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.
"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.
"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.
But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.
If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.
You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.
"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.
Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.
Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-
“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"
"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .
“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”
His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.
“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
-
And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.
There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.
It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.
The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.
Everything was perfecttt.
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heich0e · 5 months
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yuuji calls sukuna a lot.
it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.
sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.
sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.
"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.
"—'n now i can't finder!"
"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.
"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"
"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.
yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.
"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."
it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.
but tonight's different.
yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.
"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.
the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.
he doesn't see you.
"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.
"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."
yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.
"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.
"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."
sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."
"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.
sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.
"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"
the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.
"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.
as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.
then he sees you.
just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.
sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.
it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.
instead, they meet his.
"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.
sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.
"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.
the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.
"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.
"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.
you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.
"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"
sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.
the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.
"we're very close."
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emmyrosee · 1 year
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Bakugou is, for all intents and purposes, a massive baby.
God forbid you leave him for ten minutes before he starts wandering around the house looking for you. Mercy on you if you go out to the grocery store and don’t take him. And how dare you even consider get up to get a snack when he's in the bathroom, letting your shared spot get cold.
These things, he can not let go easily.
Naturally, this slips your mind every once in a while because a peaceful life with Bakugou Katsuki doesn't exist. When you forget, he makes it his mission to force you to remember his clingy ass.
Tonight, it would appear to be no different.
It's 02:30 when you snap back to reality, bleary eyes blinking to get your bearings back.
The lamp on the side table blinds you momentarily, there's music coming from the tv- credits, you deduce, from the show Denki had raved to you both about. When you angle your head up, you're met with a firm jawline that lets out a loud snore from the slight disturbance.
Katsuki never was good at staying awake during these things.
Smiling up at him, you're quick to place a tender little kiss on his chin, watching as the corners of his mouth twitches slightly. Gently, you slip out of his arms and cover him with the blanket, using the parted lips releasing the smallest little snores to ensure his slumber. He smacks his lips and turns slightly on his side, as if chasing the warmth you'd taken away, and you click the tv off to keep him in the dark. You shuffle your way into your bedroom to get your own rest; you shiver once you slip under the covers, the fabric cold from the lack of use and lack of Katsuki's body heat.
The minute you do warm up, however, you're out like a light, and you remain so for a few hours.
But then, there's someone at the end of your bed. You feel them, and it wakes you just barely. You shift the blankets higher on your shoulder for protection from whatever your subconsious picks up, and just when you feel normal, something speaks.
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The raspy voice coming from the foot of your bed is more than enough to snap you from your sleep, but it isn’t until you see the massive, bulky frame that your heart sinks and you scream, you scream as loud as you can, immediately scrambling to the corner of your bed.
“Stop screaming, it’s me.”
Your shaking hands immediately shoot to the lamp next to your bed and upon flicking it on, you’re greeted by a sleepy Katsuki, blanket around his shoulders and sleepy scowl on his face, as if you’re the one who just inconvenienced him.
“You freak! What are you doing!” You snap, quickly rubbing your eyes to knock the sleep from them to properly scold. He merely shrugs and smacks his tired lips, indifferent to the previous heart attack he’d given you.
“Left me alone on the couch,” he says, dropping the blanket onto the floor before crawling into bed next to you, casually. “We were snuggling. You abandoned me.”
“You-! I was-! Why-!”
“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he says, burying his face into his pillow and making a grabby hand for you, “c’mere, wanna spoon.”
Your heart, still pounding in your chest, finally lets breaths of air in, your hands trembling as you flick back off the light. You’re still mad, now shaking with fury, and as you roll to have your back facing him, you try to take deep breaths to calm down and not smother the man you somehow chose to love with a pillow.
“Hey,” he grumbles, tugging your sleep shirt. “Come here.”
“I can’t fucking stand you, Katsuki. I don’t even want to be in the same bed as you right now, you scared the fucking shit out of me.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Jus’ wanted to be close to you.”
“And you thought threATENING ME AT THE END OF OUR BED WAS A GOOD WAY TO DO THAT?”
He goes silent, and you almost think he’s given up, and just as you blink your stinging eyes, he suddenly rolls on top of you, knocking the wind out of you at his heaviness.
“Katsuki!” You scold, but it’s shrouded in laughter, an absolute contrast of how you just were talking all of ten seconds ago.
“Now you can’t leave,” he says, cockily. “You wake me again and I will kill you.”
“You woke me up just now! You could’ve easily come to bed like any sane person!”
“….”
“Katsuki!”
“Cant hear you, I’m asleep.”
“KATSUKI!”
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