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periprose · 5 months

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Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image.

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent.

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea.

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking.

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick.

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did.

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home.

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins.

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?”

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you.

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder.

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together.

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does.

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes.

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist.

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things.

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways.

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck.

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you.

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course.

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body.

“I said, how is that any different from before?”

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad.

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember).

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself.

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business.

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops.

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses.

You blink, tears rolling down your face.

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room.

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day.

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders.

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.”

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world.

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain.

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does.

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out.

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his.

You laugh at something the guy next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth.

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular.

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist.

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition.

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mickyschumacher · 1 year

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hi love!! Could you write something about Charles x actress!reader where he gets jealous of one of readers ex boyfriend who’s famous and maybe leads to smut?

(i really hope it makes sense, english is not my first language 😭😭)

thank you !!🩷🩷

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jealousy is a disease. and it's latest victim is your boyfriend, charles leclerc.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy obviously, zayn is kind of a dick bless him 😭, unprotected sex (wrap your tippy pls), praise, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v, orgasm denial, mutual orgasms, cumming inside, mentioning power couple tomdaya ♡︎, sucky media as per usual :/

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x famous actress!fem!reader, ex!zayn malik x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: if i don't get to see charles and zayn in one room irl, i'll just write them in one room if that’s okay :( on another note, i hope this was what you wanted anon! and your english is fine, love. sorry for the wait ♡︎ // questionably written and proof-read on a jetlagged mind

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

There were many things Charles understood well. Family, racing, the politics of racing... but one thing he would never truly understand was how he got you.

The Y/N L/N. An Oscar-winning, multitalented, down-to-earth, and gorgeous actress who had entirely won the public's hearts along with Charles'. The actress who had managed to rule the industry that most were born into.

How on earth had he gotten so lucky?

Charles couldn't deny that he was Ferrari's golden boy nor that he had become a fame athlete. But got you were on another level.

For what it was worth, Charles was a confident man. He thought he cleaned up quite well, he knew his mother raised him right, he knew that charisma itself was scared of him.

Yet, all that confidence came crashing down when it came to your ex.

Zayn Malik.

If Charles could ignore him, he would. But Zayn was everywhere. On his Twitter, on his TikTok, on his Instagram... his fans and your fans especially loved him. Why wouldn't they? He was a literal Greek, well South Asian, god part of arguably one of the best boy band's in history with a voice that had been blessed by Heaven's angels themselves.

When fans questioned why you and Zayn had broken up and you had moved on with an F1 driver, Charles found himself quietly agreeing.

But then he realised that by his side was you. You weren't next to Zayn or anyone else. You were with Charles because you loved him and he loved you. And that was more than enough.

That being said, Charles couldn't help feel a bit maddened at headline he had woken up to this morning.

You let out a small yawn. Sunday mornings were the most calm for you. Especially when you had managed to snag Charles for the week. You turned to your awoken boyfriend with a smile before frowning. "What's on that screen that made you look like this, amour (love)?" You queried, rubbing a finger over the crease between his eyebrows.

Charles looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of your face. "Nothing, mon amour (my love)," the Monégasque dismissed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close to him.

Naturally you would've snuggled yourself into him but you could tell he was upset. "No, Cha. Tell me what's wrong. What can I do to turn that frown upside down? Hmm?" You softly asked, peeking up at him while you rested your head on his chest.

You could feel Charles' body convulse as he let a gentle chuckle pass his lips. "I can never hide anything from you, hmm? It's really nothing, Y/N. Just a stupid headline."

You mended your brows, taking his phone from his hand. If you knew anything about headlines, most of them were never good. Your eyes had captured the photo of your ex first, making you deflate a little. You continued to read the headline that made you and Zayn sound like you were still together and then went to the little summary below it.

"They're 'dying to know what happens?'," You huffed, closing his phone. You pursed your lips and peered over Charles. "I swear I didn't know he was coming, Cha. I promise. We can totally skip if you don't want the drama. I'm okay with that. We can lounge in the house and do nothing," You offered.

Charles smiled softly at your words. You were always thinking of everyone but yourself. "Thank you but I wouldn't miss you winning these awards for the world, ma belle (my beautiful). You deserve to win these awards and I'm going to watch you do it. Nothing could ruin tomorrow for me."

━━━━━━━━━━━

A few hours into the Oscars, after parading the red carpet and gushing over you with interviewers, Charles was quite sure he was right. Nothing could ruin tonight because, god, were you a sight to behold.

You had captured everyone's eyes. Talking to your stylist months ago, you had accomplished your two wishes about your appearance at the Oscars: simplicity and red.

Red on a red carpet was always a bold choice but this year's carpet was a light grey. Dressed in a custom red ball gown, a matching silk shawl and a simple necklace, you had blown everyone away.

The amount of people that had solely come to your table to compliment you was surreal. But Charles couldn't argue with them. You were surreal. When he first saw you come out of the dressing room, he could've sworn his heart had stopped and for a moment, he seriously considered your offer yesterday morning.

The most beautiful person in the world loved him. Nothing could ruin the storm whirling in his stomach. The same storm he had felt when he was trying to muster the courage to talk to you when you first met at a tennis match in Monaco.

As you two conversed with your manager about the after party activities you were considering attending, Charles and you heard a voice that was all but too familiar.

"Y/N," The voice greeted.

You knew it was Zayn. You also knew how Charles felt. So you turned around with what you thought was enough confidence and greeted him. "Zayn," You breathed out with a small smile.

"It's been a while. You look out of this world. Beautiful as always," Zayn grabbed your hand and left a small kiss.

Oh good lord.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Charles tense. You cleared your throat. "Thank you. You look.. uh, amazing as always too," You complimented awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but his face.

Before Zayn could fill the upcoming silence with any unnecessary compliments, you linked your hand through Charles' arm. "This is Charles. My boyfriend," You smiled proudly.

Charles' could feel his heart speed up. He gave a kind smile to the singer, jutting out his hand for him to shake.

Zayn poked his tongue against the inners of his cheek, eyeing Charles' hand before returning the gesture. He locked eyes with the Monégasque, tilting his head to the side. "Right. The driver, right?"

Jesus. For a second you had forgotten why you broke up with him.

"Yeah... the racing driver," Charles responded with a tight voice and slightly narrowed eyes.

A nervous laugh fell from your lips. "O-Okay. I think we're gonna head over to Tom and Zendaya. Uh, see you around, Zayn, hmm?"

Zayn moved his eyes from Charles to you. He gave his usual charming smile. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he said, "Yeah, sure. I'm always around as you know."

Charles felt his jaw lock as he watched Zayn's hand fall from your shoulder and trail loosely down your arm before he left. "See you, Y/N. Goodbye Charlie."

━━━━━━━━━━━

The after parties were a no go. For the first time in your life you couldn't tell what Charles was thinking. The silence after Zayn left and the car ride home was unbearable. You tried to comfort him by putting your hand over his and assuring him that Zayn was just a classified dick, but nothing came from Charles.

What you did know was that Charles was pissed. The tight grip on the steering wheel, his flexed jaw, the hardened eyes... all signs of an angry Charles.

Arriving home, you both entered your bedroom after taking your shoes off. You looked over to Charles. God the silence was unnerving. "Charles? Amour, are you okay?" You asked once again.

Charles sat on the bed, looking at you stand in front of him. His mind was going as fast as the cars he drove. 'Out of this world?' All Charles could think was that he was going to fuck you out of this world. He wasn't angry about the snide remarks. He was angry that he was even jealous of such a pathetic human being. Moreover, he was furious over those small touches of his.

"Chérie (Sweetheart), come here. Let me help you change," Charles smiled, his hand beckoning for you to come towards him.

You sighed, walking over to him. You could see his hands aching to grab you but instead you stretched out your hand to touch his hair. Charles closed his eyes at the feeling. "Cha... I'm sorry about him. He's an asshole," You apologised, now rubbing his cheek gently.

Charles leaned into your caress, fluttering his eyes open so you could see those soft baby blues you had completely fallen head over heels for. "It's not your fault, chérie. I think he's regretting leaving the most smartest and beautiful woman in the world. You have nothing to apologise for."

You chuckled softly, trying to disguise how touched you felt. Charles complimented you like this all the time and it never got easier. No one had treated you like this before and especially not Zayn.

"Now come on," Charles stood up from the bed and turned you around, "Let's get this off." A small kiss was planted on the side of your cheek as Charles' eyes twinkled through the mirror across you.

You smiled warmly at him and nodded. You watched him take the red straps off of your shoulders, leaving a trail of warm kisses on either side. You sighed calmly. His hands trailed to the zip of the dress, pulling it down, he explored the smooth of your back, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. Charles gently pushed down the red gown, letting it pool at your bare feet.

You reached to the back of your neck to take off the gorgeous silver necklace you had worn but Charles stopped you by grabbing your wrists. "Leave it," He whispered, grazing your arms with his touch.

An involuntary shiver came over you at his voice and from the air rushing against your bare skin.

You could feel Charles' lips quiver at the side of your face. "Cold? Let me warm you up, mon amour."

You drew a quiet, sharp breath as you felt him move your chin so you could properly see him in your mirror. His ring-adorned hand travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, ensuring to make the extra effort to glide over your nipples with the metal band.

Your breath hitched as one hand began to rub your hardened nipple while the other continued to travel down your stomach. "Charles..." You sighed out, feeling a familiar burn spark in the pits of your stomach.

Charles hummed in response, meeting your eyes in the mirror with lust and a tint of smugness. The corner of his lips quirked up, feeling you tense as he neared your pussy. Through the thickness of his own clothes, he could feel your skin begin to burn.

His cock hardened at your reaction. He had barely even done anything and his name was already falling from your lips.

His fingers continued to creep down your stomach, feeling the heat from your core radiate. A sigh of pleasure fell from his mouth as he pressed his two fingers into your folds. He could feel your arousal encompassing his fingers.

"So wet, ma chérie," Charles moaned in your ear, making you return the sinful sound back. "All for me, hmm? No one else gets you this wet, do they, chérie?"

You squirmed against him as Charles' fingers moved from the soft lips of your pussy and ghosted your clit so damn slowly. Your hips bucked involuntarily with the crave of more.

Suddenly, his juice-ridden fingers were pressed up against your bundle of nerves while his other hand tugged at your lip, waiting for your answer.

"Shit, no. No one. Only you make me this wet, Cha," You whimpered, grinding your hips up against his fingers for more pressure.

Charles smiled in satisfaction. "Let's sit, hmm?" He said, tapping your clit.

You jolted at the action, feeling his hands wrap around your waist, seating you on his lap as he sat down on your bed. Your pussy throbbed at the loss of touch but ached for the hardness pressed up against you.

"Feel that, amour? That's what you do to me," Charles grunted, feeling an obscene high come over him when you started to grind down on his cock. God did you have him under your spell. Only you could put your bare pussy down on his cock and make him want to cum in seconds.

But how could you not. In the mirror you could see a sex-hazed Charles, skin flushed at your actions. It turned you on to see him lose control.

"Fuck," Charles moaned, stilling your hips from moving any further. Ignoring your whines, he pushed opened your legs, taking in the glistening view from the mirror. Bringing his two fingers to your mouth, you opened your lips and lapped at your arousal on his fingers.

"Merde," He sighed out, moving his lubed fingers to your pussy. He teasingly rubbed his fingers fully up and down, make you gasp at the coldness of his ring. Shit.

"Charles, please. I want your fingers," You groaned in frustration, thighs taking his fingers into a tight grip.

Charles chuckled, "Anything for you, princesse." He pushed his to fingers into the soft walls of your pussy.

The both of you moaned in unison, your head falling back on his shoulders. He watched eagerly as you enveloped his fingers entirely as if it was a magic trick of some sorts. The lewd sheen of you glimmered over his fingers while he thrusted them in and out.

"Look at you, chérie. Making a mess all over me," Charles smiled against your cheek as he looked down at his black trousers which now sported a darker stain.

Your warm walls clenched around his fingers, sending Charles on a journey to find that right spot both he and you craved so much. Charles could tell by the sudden parting of your lips and the jerk of your hips that he had reached it. His eyes flickered over to your face, bringing a small smug smirk to his mouth.

Your eyes brows were creased in the middle, laden with trickles of sweat building up while your mouth remained in a constant state of opening, letting those beautiful moans fall out as your chest heaved, craving more and more of him.

The trembles, the moans, the pure state of bliss you were in... it was all because of him. And Charles loved it.

Charles brought his thumb to your bundle of nerves, rubbing you in slow circles as he continued to push his digits in and out. He whispered softly, lips dancing against the curve of your ear, "You don't know how beautiful you looked tonight, mon amour. So many eyes on you. I bet they all thought the same thing... that you looked like a goddess. Sometimes I wish they could see what I'm seeing right now. This gorgeous body, your wet pussy trembling all over me, your swollen lips.... hear those pretty little moans of yours. Then they would realise... you are perfection. Unfortunately for them, they aren't the luckiest man alive. I am."

All of a sudden, all your emotions were rushing towards you. Hearing Charles' thick voice while his fingers fucked you sent you overboard. The ache of your core was climbing higher and higher, hips convulsing. "Fuck, Charles, I'm going to cum," You murmured with staggered pants, eyes fluttering shut.

Charles smiled softly, cock throbbing at the sight of you reaching your climax. But as much as Charles loved it, he needed his cock in your warm walls.

Your eyes snapped open as you felt Charles remove his fingers from your pussy, leaving his thumb circling your clit aggravatingly slow. Your walls clenched around nothing in the effort to grab the last sliver of euphoria that Charles had brought. "Charles," You whispered, almost with a sob, eyes shaking in both annoyance and lust.

Charles brought his lips to yours, softly hushing your cries. "I'm sorry, chérie, I need you." His baby blues bored into yours, taking you in.

Looking at Charles when he had said that, given how the night had played out, the tone of his voice told you everything you needed to know. "I know, amour. I need you too," You whispered back, giving him a long peck.

You sat up from his lap, turning to undo the buckle of his belt. The clangs echoed throughout the room as the tension between the both of you became heavier and desperate. Your hands raced to take off the strap while Charles itched to take off his stained pants, cock aching to come out.

Charles let out a low groan, feeling your warm breath on his bare cock as your removed his boxers. His Adam’s apple hitched as he felt your tongue take a long wet stripe of his cock.

His fingers itched to move you away and fuck you like he initially intended to, but the moment he felt your mouth sink down his shaft, his hand naturally fell into your hair. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth as if they were made for each other.

Charles' teeth sunk down on his bottom lip, baby blues eagerly watching you on your knees for him. His hand tightened around your hair as you hollowed your throat. With your eyes flickering to him as your teeth just grazed his cock, sending a tremor down his spine, he let out a series of soft moans. "Just like that, amour," He encouraged while you sucked him up and down.

Taking long licks at the shaft of his pulsing cock, you removed your lips briefly, resting them on his tip. "Only for you, Cha," You reminded him.

Charles held your gaze, feeling another shudder rip through his body. Jesus. Speechlessly he watched you bring your swollen lips back down his cock, hand gently reaching out towards his balls. Charles' hip jerked up at the sudden action, pushing his cock further down your throat.

The rasp of his grunt made you clench your thighs, feeling your pussy drip with arousal. You could feel his cock begin to move with Charles' control, high on the pleasure. Your throat fought to keep itself open, wanting every inch of him in your mouth.

Charles' pace began to speed as the sheer euphoria began to climb up. He averted his eyes to your face, feeling himself tighten further in your throat as seeing you take his cock was a different high on it's own. Your eyes were glassy, brimming with tears of brought of lust and arousal; saliva and sweat painted your skin with a glow he cherished. But what did it for him was the small bulge in your throat; all of him just in your throat.

God, did he just want to thrust himself harder till he came. He needed to cum... but not in your throat.

"Mon amour," Charles grunted, tapping the underside of your chin.

You moved your mouth from his cock, feeling his hand gently lift your chin as you stood from your knees. No words were needed as your eyes searched his.

Bringing your lips to his, Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, flushing your burning body to his unfairly clothed chest. Yet, you could feel the heat pouring off of him. You could barely breathe as you kissed Charles; the fervent need for each other was almost overwhelming.

You could feel his puffy lips slowly detach from yours, eyes staring into yours as he positioned his cock to your wet folds.

Something about this moment felt nostalgic, reminding you of your first time with Charles. The slow and careful movements, the way Charles looked at you as if he had the whole world in his eyes... as if everything was okay as long as you were by his side.

Fuck Zayn. Fuck everyone else.

All he needed was you and he had you... entirely.

You whimpered loudly, feeling his cock drive into you, filling you entirely. "Merde," you heard Charles cuss as he flung his hands onto your bare hips. The air that was once full of your pants and the obscene sounds of your lips sucking his cock was now full of your lewd moans and the sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as Charles thrusted into you, losing himself in the feeling of your warm folds enveloping his cock, acting as some sort of siphon that he couldn't escape while he watched your breasts bounce. No... he was under your spell.

Those same thoughts wandered into his head as he rutted into you. How had he gotten so lucky? All he knew was that he must've been a good soul in every past life of his in order to get someone like you.

"Fuck," You cursed, back arching as your body welcomed each hit of euphoria. You burned with desire, humming with approval; cheeks aflame and moans slurred. Your pussy tightly wrapped around his cock began to clench as Charles' fingers had found their way to your clit.

A shiver shoots down Charles' spine as he watched your breasts come on full display. He bent his head down, hot tongue swiping over your nipple. He moaned against your now flushed breast. You were driving him insane. He couldn't think, he could barely speak. You had taken over any stability he once had.

"Charles," You rasped, feeling the coil at the bottom of your stomach tighten.

Charles softly smiled against your breast, detaching his mouth and increasing the pace of his hips against yours. His eyes flickered down to where his cock met your folds, falling into an entrance while he watched your arousal coat his cock.

"Cum for me, chérie," Charles encouraged, feeling your hands travel up his back, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, leaving no inch of his skin missed by you.

"Charles, Charles, Charles," You moaned his name; your favourite song. Your body trembled, melting against him as he tightened his grip on your hips, steadying you as a white light ripped past your eyes, hips bucking involuntarily to fully grasp the high of your climax.

Charles takes his turn at own favourite song; your name slipping from his lips, stuck on repeat. Your folds act as a vice, gripping him tightly. His cock throbbed, the heat of his skin rising. His pants turned higher and irregular, hips coming to a falter as he felt the hot white stripes of his cum coat your warm walls.

Charles' head fell back against the bed, slowly removing his softening cock from your pussy.

You let out a small sigh, almost collapsing against Charles if he hadn't wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him. His blues eyes skimmed over your face, a small smile playing on his lips while he brushed your sweat ridden hair back; his fingers trailed over your swollen lips, tracing the trails of red lipstick that had escaped it's confines.

"You're coming to Monaco, right?" Charles asked softly.

You smiled at him, running your hand through those soft brown locks of his, trailing down his face and ending at his small dimple. Rubbing the spot in small circles, you earnestly whispered, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Cha."

Charles' eyes softened, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'm sorry about tonight, amour," He apologised, feeling a slight bit childish and guilty over his reaction.

You chuckled, shaking your head, moving to rub the familiar crease between his eyebrows. "He's an asshole, Cha. I don't know if I tell you enough, but you're the man that I love... forever. There's no one else for me."

"So cheesy," Charles jested even though you could tell what you had said meant a lot to him, especially given that he had tightened his grip around you.

"Only for you, Charles," You rolled your eyes before holding his gaze. "Only for you."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1

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mlmshipbracket · 6 months

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ROUND 6: POLL #1 - Semifinals

ROUND 6 POLLS [HERE]

PROPAGANDA BELOW

Siffrin/Isabeau:

I've put mid paragraph spoilers in || brackets || and paragraphs of spoilers make "spoilers ->"

I should mention that them having romantic feelings for each other is a partial spoiler?

What if. A silly little he/they guy. But! He's really messed up emotionally and mentally. Like. Constantly puts others first to his own detriment and calls himself manipulative kind of messed up. Also he's in a time loop. NOT a fun one. But! There's this jock in his party that he can joke with. And they looove making him smile! And! That jock is head over heels for our tiny hero. But! Neither of them can admit their feelings! ||Even if they know the feelings are mutual!!|| AND THE JOCK DOESN'T KNOW HE'S IN A TIME LOOP!!! AND LITTLE GUY WON'T TELL HIM! CAUSE THEY DON'T WANT HIM TO WORRY!!

I love them sooo much! They are my favorite he/they x ||trans masc|| couple <3

Siffrin is soooo insecure and I'm 100% sure Isa could fix him if he wanted to. They love telling each other just the worst puns and jokes imaginable.

[SPOILERS] -> Isa was a big nerd before he decided he wanted to be a huge jock and now he wants to design clothes now that he saved his county (along side his other friends)

Siff is just a little guy (literally)(he is short) who loves the stars abs doesn't remember a lot about his past. He constantly worries if he's being enough for the rest of his companions and always tries his best to make sure they're happy. He has soooo much trouble seeing value in himself and prioritizing his own needs and it makes me soooo sad :( he deserves to have someone like Isa.

[SPOILERS] -> Siff knows that Isa wants to confess after thier battle w the bbeg, but siff can't get Ida to say it no matter what they try :(

Eustass Kid/Killer:

Propaganda by @chronoirrai [HERE]

Friends/lovers since childhood, would kill and die for each other. [SPOILERS for those who have not watched/read the Wano arc yet] Killer ate a defective SMILE fruit to safe Kid, making him unable to swim and show any other emotion than laughing (and gains him nothing), and he also knew exactly where to cut off Hawkins' arm so he wouldn't harm Kid (because he knows his body so well). Kid promises to kill whoever makes fun of his partner, and lets himself be recaptured after escaping prison because Killer had gotten himself captured.

If this ain't love idk what is.

The captain/right-hand man dynamic. They call each other aibou (partner). If your partner doesn't tell you that he will send whoever laughs at you to hell then he is not worth it. Killer hates his own laugh to the point that he stopped laughing out loud and started wearing a mask. But then he was forced to eat a defective devil fruit (because they promised he could see Kidd if he did) so he's been cursed to only laugh no matter what emotion he's trying to express. That's why Kidd said that, it's so full of weight for someone like Killer. And when Kidd was imprisoned and he worked so hard to escape, but as soon as he saw Killer being pulled into the same prison he just broke out from mans did not hesitate for even a second to go right back in.

#isat siffrin #isat isabeau #siffrin/isabeau #isafrin #in stars and time #eustass kid #killer one piece #eustass kid/killer #kidkiller #one piece #tumblr poll #tumblr bracket #mlm ship #mlm ship poll #mlm ship bracket #mlm ship bracket tournament #mlm ship bracket 2024 #mlm ship bracket tournament 2024 #fourthr6

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altocat · 1 month

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FFVII FANDOM PSA

I've seen several of my mutuals being accosted by the same loser troll that's been stalking my inbox. They have a distinct way of typing and bizarre no-context fixations that make them very easy to distinguish. They will attack you over nothing. Sometimes they'll go after you over random posts you made weeks ago. And they are not afraid to get personal. I've had them literally stalk and document my active hours online so that they could make a low-effort comment about the kind of person I must be irl. They've commented on my home life, my pets, my tastes, my presumed relationships, everything. All without actually knowing me. All in an effort to be malicious. Just really weird, creepy behavior.

Anyway, I'm telling you all this because it's likely they will eventually show up in your inbox. And yeah, at first it's cute to flash a snarky comeback or two. I did that at first. But I can assure you that that's exactly what they want--attention. Your best course of action, regardless of what they say, is to IGNORE them. Don't engage. Don't acknowledge. They are liquid filth beneath your feet. They don't deserve your attention. They are a cowardly troll hiding behind the anon setting. They are not worth your time, energy, or talent.

I hate that it took me this long to figure that out. I hate even more that I have to post about this in an effort to bring attention to this issue, thus giving them their fifty seconds of fame. I TRIED to be diplomatic, wanting to settle the issue privately over DMs. They don't want to talk, nor are they genuine, even if they claim to be. They're a troll. That's all they are, and all they ever will be.

Please stay safe out there. Everyone deserves a safe, fun, and welcoming atmosphere here. You are all worth so much more than whatever pathetic insults they're able to squeeze together. Keep an eye out and take nothing they say to heart. They deserve nothing.

Love you guys. Stay awesome.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephcanons #crisis core #final fantasy vii #PSA #Trolling

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batbabydamian · 2 months

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The Boy Wonder #3 by Juni Ba rambling about how cool this series would be to read in a single sitting...it's all so connected!!

rambles for issue #1 and issue #2!

i don't have as much personal interpretation for this cover besides it being a solid piece of art in shapes and silhouette! ALSO. bi bg lighting lol. Damian's "X" posing of his cape and swords parallels with Tim's "X" chest straps + the Robin emblem in the center. Tim's closed Red Robin wings frames Robin's own outstretched cape wings; and on top of that, the shadows cast inside the wings nicely frames Damian's demon mask.

Joe and Merle's dynamic has been so fun, especially with the mutual enthusiasm over the storytelling 🥺 Joe also opens up about his circumstances that led him to this moment, which perfectly sets up the setting of this issue! Even his very first introduction becomes a relevant detail when a fancy rich couple drops a champagne glass, uncaring of the people literally below them, saying “some poor sap down there’ll appreciate it” when it bonks Joe’s head.

it all comes around!! and tbh this issue proves how much this series would slap to read in a single sitting (GET THE COLLECTED EDITION)

Going beyond first impressions seems to apply to the color palette in this series. From #1 in the first page of Gotham, we see the gold of upper society to the blue of the downtrodden → from issues #2 and #3, it’s the warm gold of inner Gotham to the cold blue of the rich. there’s a sense of community displayed among the poor - even part of Jason’s intro avenging Bill, a generous man mourned on panel by many. The rich gives off a sense of individualism, celebrating themselves and their excess.

With the change in scenery, this issue steps into the more civilian side of things through a spy theme - fancy suits and lil gadget intros! Going down the civilian route with Tim feels very fitting since it's what makes Tim's run as Robin so charming!

i love that Talia’s taught Damian to be conscious of the rich’s effects on society, especially in the following page of small panels zoning in on the details of wealth and overindulgence. but also LIL DAMIAN. HIS LIL ROUND EYES AND HANDS 🥺

Damian’s aware of the facts, and his disgust is clearer after having just been through lower Gotham and seeing firsthand the poverty directly caused by the wealthy (also not sure if that old lady is the same one from #1 with similar hair and clothes, but pls she can't a break…)

i mentioned Damian’s “inciting incident” for this journey to be the intro of a demon for Damian to prove his worth but i’m correcting the use of that term!! the intro of the demon is more the beginning of plot, whereas the actual inciting incident is beheading the thief!! it’s the main reason he’s in this situation where he felt the need to prove himself, and atone. Most notably is that the beheaded thief is a consistent character that quite literally haunts Damian every step of the way.

The statue of Batman’s head being popped off becomes a significant visual, because while Damian started this journey to prove something to Bruce, the only one that really seems to have (quite literal) eyes for Damian’s journey is the thief. Why does he make more of an appearance than the actual Bat? Even his statue’s head doesn’t make a figurative presence; whereas the only one looming over Damian is the thief. Guilt over killing him may be driving him just as much as his desire to be worthy. Alternatively, it could be that Damian needs to reexamine his motivations since the thief is really getting in Damian's face now.

Damian is proud to be a positive influence on Tim, but the moment is short-lived. It’s an ironic moment to me because Damian doesn't even know the impact he's had on Jason just in the previous issue!! 😭

Damian's so desperate to prove his worth, yet he's been making choices in every issue to help others!! Helping the old woman up in #1, being vulnerable with Jason in #2, and now sacrificing himself for Tim!

The Ra’s "Weakness" panel has been reoccurring since #1, but it's the first time Talia has been included. Being great figures in his life and mind, their silhouettes consume Damian's, similar to a few of Batman's appearances below. This latest disappointment was such a blow to Damian, that Talia (who he might have the most respect for) becomes an added voice in his head.

Final thoughts!!

Like Rok, does the thief actually have a connection to the al Ghuls or is this beard just in fashion at the moment.

Lex is clearly referencing one of the Underwell warehouses that Joe and Merle are presently, so wondering if whatever he and Tim discuss here will be affecting them later.

Ending with Talia’s cover for extra hype!! i’ll probably go back to this for the next ramble, but i’m already gearing myself up to wail about Talia just based on this cover. The Mary and Jesus imagery (more prominent with Damian’s lil crown as a “prince”) but most importantly Talia weathering the flames for Damian…her own shroud/shawl wrapped around Damian and burning… oh boy

#rambling #i had a lot to say about Damian's sense of self worth and sacrificial tendencies but #i'm trying to avoid referencing comics outside of this series as it's a very dedicated world of its own #andi don’t want to divert attention away from the story Ba is telling #but yeah. Damian constantly under the shadow of the Bat and Demon would certainly mess with his perception of himself!!#anyway seeing more of the visual and storytelling elements call back to previous issues GEEZ this NEEDS to be reread as a whole #the boy wonder

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izzabela · 3 months

Note

Hello! I was thinking about what would happen if the female reader was first to say "I love you" to the Lin Kuei trio (different scenarios) and since their whole lives involved with training and counseling emotions that they freeze upon those words and trying to process but it causes the reader to think they don't reciprocate their feelings and walks away depressed and now the boys have to figure out how to tell the reader "I love you" back.

Up In the Air - Lin Kuei x fem!reader (scenario fic)

in which your brazen love confession leaves Tomas, Bi Han, and Kuai Liang speechless

a/n: YUMMY REQUEST

ship[s]: tomas, bi han, kuai liang x fem!reader

warning(s): anxiety/panic attack mention, fluffy ends

[why the fuck does kuai liang sit like that, straight back and arms tucked in his lap, ON A WOODEN BENCH]

=====================

Tomas

"I love you," you tell Tomas softly, your eyes closed as you slipped your hands in his.

You two were walking around the compound, the Summer air and winds treating you two with a warm evening. Despite the warmth of both confession and evening, Tomas was at a cold still.

You and Tomas may have started as initiate and teacher, but as you climbed the ranks in the Shirai Ryu, you proved to be indispensable, unique, and talented. Grandmaster Kuai Liang appointed you as Tomas's second in command, and you two had begun spending more and more time together.

Tomas, despite being the ruthless and calculated ninja he is, was kind and soft with you. He spent nights with you when he couldn't sleep, spoke to you about his frustrations and fears, and even confided in you when he gets into arguments with his older brother.

He's your best friend, no doubt about it, but your heart yearned for more than what was available. You craved him to hold you longer than his hugs, do more than just pat your head, and even more than just walk side by side on an evening like this. In fact, you really hoped the confession you had planned would signify he felt the same way with you.

When you opened your eyes to see his expression, he simply stared back at you with emptiness. You were shocked at this response, since he was the most expressive one in his family- why was this any different? You were so sure of yourself, even talking to Harumi to see if she saw it as you did, and she assured his affections for you were mutual.

Your hopeful smile deflated faster than a clown's balloon, and you masked your broken heart with an awkward smile.

"I- I meant to say I love you... for the mission you sent me on!" you recovered badly, "Toughie, but definitely..."

You frantically let go of his hands and shuffle away from him, "Definitely worth... it... yeah."

Tears welled in your eyes as you realize your mistake. So stupid, for you to think he would love you the way you loved him. He was busy with his family drama, his new clan, and dealing with his newfound trauma- of course he wouldn't have room in his heart for you.

"Goodnight then, Tomas," you abruptly say, running away and retreating to your room.

Tomas watches as you leave him alone in the summer evening, your words hanging in the air and ringing in his ears.

When was the last time he heard those words? Perhaps before his sister and mother died back in Europe, or when Kuai Liang opened up his heart to him and accepted his brotherhood. Those words had lost meaning to him when Bi Han betrayed him and Kuai Liang that fateful mission at Ying Fortress.

However, when you said it, it was like all the color that had faded over the years came back. Sure, Tomas stared at you like he died inside (I mean, he kind of is), but it wasn't unwelcome.

As you rounded the corner of the compound, your stifled sobs echoing in his ears. Tomas leans back on a wooden pillar, hand clutching the patch of fabric that covered his heart. He grips his uniform tightly with that hand and runs his other through his hair. Tears burn Tomas's eyes as well and his breathing becomes labored, chest rising up and down as he puts his head in between his legs.

Kuai Liang and Harumi are chatting happily, but their conversations stop at the sight of the poor man on the verge of a panic attack. Kuai rushes to his brother's front while his wife is at his side, trying to bring the young man back.

"Hey, Tomas!" Kuai Liang yells frantically, "Tomas, look here brother. Stay with us, you can do it."

Tomas's head rises, chest still heaving as he makes eye contact with his sister-in-law and brother. Kuai Liang puts his hands gently on his shoulder as he coaxes him back to reality. Tomas matches his breaths while Harumi rubs his back gently and softly, like a feather duster on china.

"We are in Japan," he begins to list, "You are in Harumi's compound, it is Wednesday evening, and you finished a debrief with (y/n)."

At the mention of your name, Tomas looks at his family with worry, words sputtering like a struggling car, "Is she alright? She left crying after... after I..."

Kuai Liang looks at Harumi worriedly, "Tomas? What happened? Why is she of concern?"

Tomas is finally back to his usual self, ish. He sits up against the pole as he explains his dilemma to his family.

"So... you froze after she confessed to you?" Kuai deadpans, which earns a smack on the back of his head from Harumi.

"Tomas," she begins, "You must've been reminded of something, or perhaps letting her words register?"

"It's... It's been too long since I heard something like that," Tomas explains, "She said it with heart, brother and sister. So much I thought my own would explode."

Kuai offers his hand to Tomas, to which he accepts and gets put back on his feet. Kuai places a hand on his shoulder while Harumi holds onto her husband's bicep.

"And did you answer her? Give her your answer that you feel the same way?"

Tomas has loved you before he even knew it was called "love". He loved being able to talk to you, confide in you during his darkest moments, and just be around you. Normally, he'd say that his fire was his brother, but now it's you. You ignite something inside his heart, and it pushes him to put one hundred percent in everything he does.

Smoke follows your burning passion and dedication, and it's not just his magic. He wants to be with you more than command head and second, and more than people working to defeat evil, and definitely more than friends.

Tomas just stares at his brother before he shakes his head side to side. Kuai sighs and his head is down in disappointment, and Harumi nudges Tomas's shoulder.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go on!" Harumi urges, "Come on, Tomas, before it's completely ruined forever!"

Tomas rushes to your room quickly, heavy steps padding on the wood in thumps. He finally makes it to your room, and unfortunately, he can hear your sobs past the thin material of the door. Tomas wants to slide the door to the side, but he simply announces himself with a knock.

"(y/n)?" he said softly, hand on the door, "By the gods, I am so sorry."

You stop crying, head turning to the door to see Tomas's silhouette past the door. You didn't want to come to the door, but you didn't want to sound like you were crying for a whole fifteen minutes. You wipe your tears and blow your nose into a dirty shirt before clearing your throat and speaking.

"Tomas? W-what are you doing? It's quite late, and you should be asleep."

You can hear him take a deep breath before speaking again, "(y/n), I..."

Your breath stops, your eyes watching Tomas's shadow fidget. Quietly, you walk closer to the door and press your hand and forehead on the door to hear him better.

"(Y/n)," he begins again, "I haven't heard those words in a long time- and I mean a long time. I lost my first family, my faith, my second family... I was so sure I could never feel this love again despite being surrounded by it.

More tears form in your eyes as he continues, "But spending time here, watching brother marry, taking Hanzo in, and meeting you... I realize that maybe things are turning up for me."

You carefully slide your door open, eyes meeting a tear-stained Tomas. He smiles weakly, wiping the tears away, but they keep replacing themselves as he continues speaking.

"(Y/n), you said you loved me. I hope I'm not too late in saying that I love you too."

You smile softly, taking his hands in yours and squeezing it. He's shocked, but he this time his eyes aren't empty. They're full of love, life, and hope- and there is no slowing down with the overwhelming emotions he was feeling.

The moon shines brightly over both of you, almost like the gods blessing you two with eternal happiness. There was also Kuai Liang and Harumi quietly stalking you two in the distance, but you two didn't care. Not when the confession isn't left hanging in the air.

=====================

Kuai Liang

"Oh my goodness," you say happily, "Thank you, Kuai Liang, I love you so much!"

It's the middle of the night, and you two were in Kuai Liang's room discussing battle plans and information over matters regarding the Lin Kuei. However, as you two were planning, you had lost a very special pen from your family. He stopped everything to help you find it since you were on the brink of tears. Your outburst, though, might make the dam burst.

"You... I beg your pardon?" Kuai Liang says with a bewildered look. Your face burns hot and grows pinky-red, you wave your hands around like a maniac, flailing as you try to explain yourself.

"I mean, I love you for finding my pen! I mean, I love how you found- Ah! Uh, agh..." you groan, sucking up your divine punishment and confessing, "I can't lie to you, Kuai Liang, not about how I really feel."

You knew them through Harumi, since they were childhood friends. And, like Harumi, you were the inheritor to your own clan, which specialized in tactical brilliance, weaponry, and manpower. You offered your support and frequented their compound, where your relationship with him grew from colleagues, to partners, to very close friends. You remember after a few months, you spoke to Harumi about your feelings towards him, and ever since that she's been doing her best to give you more chances to meet and talk.

This was no different. Harumi actually set this whole thing up, shoving papers into the already busy Kuai Liang's hands and telling him to work with you on it. Dutiful to his work and clan, of course he'd work on it, and Harumi made sure you could jump on this opportunity.

Now, here you were, spilling your heart out to your friend about the feelings you had been harboring.

"From the minute we began working together, you made me feel like I wasn't my clan's inheritor. You made me feel normal, like a person, and like a woman. Being a leader is tough, but being a female leader is harder- you grounded me. You made me feel... seen. And for that, I love you- very much."

He doesn't move, still like a marble statue. You look and search his eyes for any sign of reciprocation, any hint that perhaps that Harumi was right about the things she told you about your crush. But he remains unmoving, and your heart completely shatters. The dam in your eyes crumbles and you begin to let go. Finally, Kuai Liang reacts and robotically gets you tissues, trying to calm you down.

You look at him with a ridiculous "what the f#ck" face as he hands you a tissue, to which you knock the box out of his hands and storm out. All he can do, though, is begin to clean up quietly, leaving your sudden outburst in his head.

Kuai Liang kept his heart locked in a bulletproof, titanium metal, fire-proof, and multi-padded safe. He was loyal to his duty, family, and clan, emotions were good, yes, but they were unreliable to his mission. Yes, he cared for his friends and little brother, and yes he cared for the defense of Earthrealm, but that was duty- there's no heart in it. Hence, his robotic motions, however being with you slowly unlocked the layers that buried his heart.

He felt the same with you, truly, but with how tightly he locked his heart up, he was afraid. What if things don't work out? What if his heart overtook his mind? What if...

His thoughts were interrupted with Harumi stepping in his room, watching him clean up with a slacked jaw. She pieces everything together and puts two fingers on the bridge of her nose, sighing at the way her plan unfolded.

"How in the gods names did you mess it up?" Harumi seethes out to her friend, "What even happened?"

He sighs and sits down in front of the tissues and messy papers, "She, uh, (y/n), confided in me her feelings."

Harumi egged him further, "And? Did you respond? Did you say anything to her at all? You know, I see how you look at her and-."

Kuai Liang disassociates from her rant, processing your words even harder. By the gods, he does love you. He loves how you laugh when he tells you stories about Tomas, he loves your confidence, your leadership, and your very being. He, too, feels grounded, and being with you makes him forget the war he was fighting against his own blood brother. He would hate to see you drawn into this feud, but you already involved yourself by supporting him.

Funny, since love works exactly like that. You can deny it, bury it, lock it up as best as you can, but it always wins. Love is fun, fleeting, and scary, but when is anything in life not? Getting up, he towers over Harumi and asks for your location.

"Perhaps check the roof? I know she frequents the roofs when things become too much," she ponders, a finger on her chin.

Kuai Liang storms out and leaps on the walls that surrounded the compound. It's a huge plot of land that stretches far, right before a pine tree forest. However, he finds you atop the peak of a tower to the left of the main home. He sprints over to you, jumping, leaping, and climbing up to reach you. When he reaches you, you're eyes are wide and you try to scoot away from him.

"Go away, Kuai Liang," you hissed, "Just ignore what I said- it was a mistake." He doesn't listen, though, and walks closer to you while talking about his newly processed feelings.

"(Y/n)," he starts, "You are more than your clan's leader. You are the pride of your parents, the future of your people, and person that took my heart by storm."

You gasp, and he keeps talking as he squats to your level, "You cannot fathom how much your very being has helped me, but how I repaid your help, and love, was inexcusable. My heart has been locked up since... well, forever, and duty had really guided me for the rest of my life, for fear of losing everyone I know and love- including you."

Tears spill over your eyes, blurring your vision of Kuai Liang's face. However, unbeknownst to you, he too was holding tears back as he finished his confession.

"I love you, (y/n)," he whispers, "I love you more than anything. If you have me, my heart and duty is yours to command, yours to control, and for once I am okay with someone else taking control."

You nod happily, tears still streaming down as you bring him into a deep hug. The warmth of the evening and Kuai Liang's magic filled you with pure joy.

No, his fire did not waver. In fact, it burned brighter than any light in the entire universe.

=====================

Bi Han

"Thank you, Bi Han," you wince as wraps your bloody shoulder, "You did not have to do this." Bi Han grunts, but he does not halt any operations he has on you.

You had come back from a mission with Sektor across the world, in Japan to be specific. Sent to scope the possible locations of the Shirai Ryu base, you two were ambushed by a group of Shirai Ryu ninja and wounded pretty badly against the battle. There were losses, but you and Sektor came out victorious. Bi Han, though, was not pleased to see his second-in-command and familiar injured.

A cooling sensation came over your shoulder, and you sigh in relief when you realize it's Bi Han using his powers to relieve some of your pain. You lean backwards just a bit, your head hitting his lower abdomen area as you preen in the comfort. Bi Han flinches a bit, but it isn't unwelcome.

Bi Han was fascinated by you ever since you waited for him to wake up in the infirmary. In fact, you found him first while on watch duty, Bi Han's body sluggishly walking through the snow before passing out by the grand entrance. You were moved, the mighty grandmaster betrayed by his family and left alone. It angered you so much so that you began to train even harder than you already did, waking up early to get more reps in, more spars in, and more time to hone your deadly skills.

Bi Han saw your efforts, even offered to train with you (which was a big deal to your little heart). It was rare for him to spar with someone outside of his circle, even rarer for him to train with a simple soldier. He had you in his sights, though, ever since you waited for him in the infirmary. After his first spar with you, he concluded that maybe having you around would be nice.

Sometimes, you had breakfast with him after your spars. He would tell you all the places you needed to work n or improve in a scarily gentle tone. He would also send you on missions with people in his inner circle, your skills exceeding the expectation he held for his star pupil, Frost. But your favorite moments were when you two sat in comfortable silence, doing nothing but palace-temple chores, stretching, or walking around your home. This was something that solidified that he liked you too (although, delusions might have been taking over at this point).

As Bi Han kept alleviating your shoulder, your true feelings slipped out like buttery bread in a pan, "I love you, Bi Han."

The constant chill Bi Han's magic provided ceased immediately, and you don't realize the weight of your words until you feel the air grow chilly. You look at your crush's face and see a truly awful scowl on his face, his brows facing downward and the amount of lines that formed on his pale face.

You notice ice beginning to line his arms and growing around his feet as he grunts a command, "Explain. Now."

"I-It-It's, ah, uh," you stutter, his fear-mongering getting to you, "It was a mistake! I misspoke, Grandmaster, I was-," Bi Han wasn't buying it, though.

He barks the same order at you, so you give up and muster your courage to face your Grandmaster with a situation beyond his control.

"It wasn't a mistake, I apologize for trying to deceive you," you begin, "But what I am about to say is not a trick. I do love you, Bi Han, more than anything in the world, realms and universe combined. Your mentorship over me, and the little "friendship" we developed over the past couple of months has bubbled into this- I am in love with your firm leadership, quiet attentiveness to everyone within the palace..."

You looked in his eyes with unwavering confidence, finishing your last statement, "And I am especially in love with your comforting silence. The way your eyes spoke to me, the way we had mutual understanding while alone together, everything. I love it- I am in love with you."

You search his eyes for any sign of your feelings being reciprocated, but his pupils were small and his deep brown irises took over- there was no hope for any reciprocation. Your confidence shattered, and any pain you felt was gone as adrenaline forced you out of that room, sprinting away from the infirmary and somewhere else in the palace-compound. Bi Han, though, stood still and finally grasped the situation he was in.

Though Bi Han was no longer with his brothers, he recalled the memories of how he kept his heart so buried in ice and snow while he was living with them. Emotions were a liability, a weapon that could be used against him, and now that they were gone he thought he was safe- until you. You were his new liability, yet he wanted that risk, he wanted to have you because for the first time in a very, very, very long time, he was willing to put himself on the line for something, you.

The chilled air began to recede, and the ice that formed on and around him did the same. As he brought himself back to the real world, Sektor walked in on the scene. His cyborg-like helmet was off, revealing his aged face and hair wrapped in a tight bun in the back of his head. He carried tea, rice balls, and a content face, but it drops when he sees his leader.

"Grandmaster?" He asked carefully, "What in the realms happened here?"

Bi Han shakes off any remaining ice on his body, stretching his body in the process as he explains, "Nothing of your concern, Sektor. Leave."

He shrugs, not wanting to egg him on, but he departs with some useful information, "In case you were worried, (y/n) is in the training room. For what reason, I do not know, but she's been at it for roughly fifteen minutes now."

He immediately leaves the room, careful not to bump into his friend(?) and the treats he was holding. Quickly, he heads to the training room and finds you sparring with another assassin, completely obliterating them and sending them tumbling towards the wall. He huffs and jumps in the ring, watching your face morph into a foreign emotion he's never seen before- fury.

You taunt him, "I mean no disrespect, Grandmaster, but I am sparring. I never asked you to join."

He tuts his mouth, simply walking towards you to try and close the distance, "You are a strong-willed woman, that is certain."

Tears begin to well in your eyes, so you throw a punch at him to distract yourself, "Is that all, Grandmaster?"

The punch is easily caught by Bi Han's calloused hand, "Not yet, but let us see you work."

You grit your teeth, quickly letting go from his hand and throwing a roundhouse kick, which was caught again. He taunts you a bit more, "Closer, but you're close. One more, and I will speak."

Angered beyond compare, You unleash a fury of kicks, punches, and jabs to the grandmaster, all dodged by his years of experience. One of your punches was stopped, and he took you down on your back and pinned you to the floor. You wriggle and writhe under him, trying to get away.

"Will you allow me to speak? Or do you wish to cause more trouble?" Bi Han asks with a quizzical look and upturned brow.

You stay silent and turn away, the tears not stopping. He sighs, and beings to talk.

"You are strong, resilient in any task given. Kind, to everyone and not just me. But most importantly, you are a risk, and one I am willing to take," Bi Han says very softly, which differs from his usual demeanor, "One final risk, if you will take it with me, is that I do, truly, love you as well, (y/n)."

Your eyes widen and turn your head to him. The tears keep flowing as he gently pulls your head into his chest, raising you up with him as he cradled you in his arms. You hug him tightly, feeling his chill breath on your skin where it was exposed. He breathed softly, taking in this experience with all five senses.

The training room went eerily silent, the only sound being the footsteps in the distance and the gentle howl of the the winter wind. Yet, Bi Han kept you warm and safe with his embrace, perhaps another risk he didn't realize he was already taking.

=====================

if Bi Han didn't become an opp, maybe Harumi would help him bag a baddie too. also, when i described sektor, i used the mk9 version of him (best version of MK btw) to fill the gap. i discovered the power of the <s> button, and i will be using that to type my longer fics

i also understand the importance of tags and the specificity of them, so big ups and thanks to the accounts that told me!

thank you for reading, and i will see you in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #x reader #kuai liang #tomas vrbada #bi han #smoke #scorpion #sub zero #tomas x reader #bi han x reader #ask izza #izza answers #kuai liang x reader

163 notes · View notes

nyarumie · 1 month

Note

hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3

how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi

(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)

Food Impact! (Oneshot)

narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.

Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3

Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ id love to interact more too!

Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!

The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.

Stacked yamazon boxes, check.

Littered cans and bottles, check.

Neglected blankets and pillows, check.

An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.

Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.

His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?

“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.

Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?

“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”

“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”

“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”

Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.

Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”

In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.

He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”

Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.

Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”

Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.

Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”

And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.

“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”

What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.

He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.

Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.

His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.

Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”

“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”

“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.

A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.

‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’

But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!

He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.

You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”

“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.

The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.

“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”

Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.

He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.

“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”

He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”

Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”

“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.

Invigorating Kitty Meal.

Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.

He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!

“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.

“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.

Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.

He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”

After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.

He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)

Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.

You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!

You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”

“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”

“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.

“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.

After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.

You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.

“Let's cook again someday.” he said.

You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”

“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”

You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”

He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”

He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.

“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.

Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”

He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.

You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.

Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”

Wait. What?

“What arrives… tomorrow?”

“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.

You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!

Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”

“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”

“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.

You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”

He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”

And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.

Bonus:

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?

You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.

The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.

#kaiju no. 8 #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #gen narumi #kaiju number 8 #narumi gen x reader #narumi fluff #narumi x reader #narumi gen #narumi gen fluff

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ckret2 · 6 months

Text

Chapter 44 of human Bill Cipher wishing he was trapped in the Mystery Shack again:

The Eclipse: Part 2

Gravity is disappearing, and to find out why, Ford's inspecting the sites where the fabric of spacetime might have been damaged by Weirdmageddon. Dipper's glad to come along.

Bill really, really, really isn't.

"I am genuinely offering you helpful advice, that also happens to be self-serving because you idiots wouldn't trust me if I claimed I was being charitable anyway," Bill went on, as he'd been going on for the past five minutes. "This isn't a trick! I'm not running a con! I'm completely serious: being outside during an eclipse is the stupidest thing you could do. You don't want to watch it, I want to watch it even less, staying inside is mutually beneficial!"

"Do you think I should have brought my camera?" Dipper asked, determinedly ignoring Bill as he trailed behind them.

"What for?" Ford asked, also ignoring Bill.

"I've been trying to expand my Guide to the Unexplained series this summer—I've been doing longer episodes, a couple of them are ten minutes—but I wasn't sure if we'd see anything cool and my backpack was already heavy..."

"Hmm. I suspect either there won't be anything worth seeing—or, if there is, we'll be far too busy dealing with it to record footage."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, "I guess you're right."

"This is why my journals have more illustrations than photographs."

Bill let out a loud groan of frustration before jogging to catch up with the humans. He checked the trail ahead to make sure he wasn't about to trip, then turned to walk sideways, facing Dipper and Ford as they walked. "Okay, fine, you win. So, just to be clear—the only reason you two are dragging me out here is to check a few locations for these imaginary 'micro-rips' you think are shredding the fabric of reality apart. Right? As soon as we've checked the three places you want, it's over, you admit you were wrong, and we go back to the shack?"

"Yes, Cipher," Ford sighed. "Once we've checked those locations, if we can't find evidence that any of the areas of most concern are near the one hundred thousand micro-rip danger threshold, we'll go home. Since dimensional rips could pop up anywhere around Gravity Falls, there's a possibility there could be clusters over the danger threshold away from the three areas of concern, but with no way to guess where they might be—"

"Fine. Then let's get this over with," Bill said. "Totality is in two days, if we're back home by tomorrow night we'll still avoid it. But if you try to drag me outside again after we get back, I'm hitting everyone with the Amnesia Limina curse and nobody's going outside."

With that threat delivered, Bill cartwheeled ahead of the humans, landed on his feet, and bounded ahead in long moonwalking lopes.

"Any idea why gravity's going down faster for him than the rest of town?" Dipper asked.

"Only that, if there are rips opening between us and the Nightmare Realm, perhaps they're giving Bill back some of his powers," Ford said. "Perhaps his powers are stored in the Nightmare Realm. Although I don't know how that would work." It was a better explanation than Bill's claim that he could just float better than humans, anyway.

The bracelet around Dipper's wrist momentarily tightened as Bill reached the far end of his invisible tether, then loosened as Dipper continue forward; and then tightened a second time, and a third time. From up the trail, Bill shouted, "Would you hurry up!"

"You slow down! Some of us still have to walk!"

But even so, the slowly decreasing gravity was making the hike noticeably easier. Their backpacks sat lighter on their shoulders, and each stride seemed to carry them a little higher and farther than they expected. They startled a deer, and then the deer startled itself with how high it jumped.

"On second thought, it might not be a good idea to take him back to the shack while this is going on," Ford said. "Even if there aren't enough micro-rips in the basement, I'm not wholly convinced it won't end up the epicenter of whatever's about to happen. And if Bill wants so badly to be so close to it..."

From further up the trail, Bill shouted, "If you were any more paranoid, you'd be asking your own shadow why it's following you!"

"If you had access to any more of your powers, you'd be possessing my shadow!"

"Ha!" Bill had stopped to perch on a fallen tree that on any other day would have been far too slender to hold an adult's weight, balanced on it like a tightrope, and waited there for the others to catch up. "Fine, we don't need to go back to the shack, whatever makes you happy! As long as we get inside. Stanley's camper, a motel room, the old Corduroy cabin—hey, the Northwest place is pretty empty these days, isn't it? Is Specs renting out rooms, or...?"

"I am not taking you to Northwest Manor," Ford said. "Fiddleford's had enough trouble without letting you into his life again." Although that was only one of several reasons Ford wanted to keep them apart. For Fiddleford's safety, they couldn't risk Bill finding out that Fiddleford had been told his identity; and, now that Bill had confessed he could see through walls, they couldn't give him a chance to peer through the manor's walls and discover the ongoing paradox fuel synthesis project.

Bill laughed in disbelief. "Oh now you're concerned about somebody else's wellbeing, when it's his—fine! Fine, fine, fine! That's just fine! That's great! Terrific!" He hopped off his perch. "No evidence of self-preservation and let's not even think about respecting the triangle's wishes, but when the hillbilly might be in imaginary danger—!"

"That 'hillbilly' is one of the most brilliant men alive and the best friend I've ever known—"

"Ha!" Angrily, Bill yelled, "Some best friend, he erased you straight out of his head! You don't even know what a best friend is!"

Ford winced—he knew he'd never been much of a friend back to Fiddleford—but while he was gearing himself up to defend himself against whatever accusation Bill lobbed next, Bill turned away from the humans and stormed up the trail, leaving them behind as the weaving path took him behind several trees.

Every couple of steps, Dipper's bracelet twitched against his wrist as Bill tried to get even further ahead and was thwarted. He chuckled. "Do you think you touched a nerve?"

The corner of Ford's mouth quirked up; but he shook his head. "He's just mad he's not getting his way. As usual."

####

"I take it this is our first destination," Bill said, hands planted on his hips, looking around the forest. "This looks like the area where Shooting Star gave me the rift."

Dipper said, "You mean the place where you tricked—"

Bill shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes. "Anyway, that aside, all the glued-shut wormholes and this are a bigger hint." He tapped the tip of one dress shoe—dusty after a walk in the woods—at the start of a long crevasse in the ground weaving through the trees.

"Yes," Ford said distractedly, taking his micro-rip scanner out of his backpack and turning it on. "This is the place." He took an initial reading, frowned, and followed the crevasse deeper into the woods.

Bill trailed along after him, gesturing at the jagged lines of bending light hanging in the air. "You did a terrible repair job, by the way. Stretching the edges of the rips to meet like that puts more stress on the reality in between the rips. You should have sutured them and let them heal naturally," Bill said. "If there are a bunch of tiny rips in the area, your own shoddy work probably caused them."

"Mm-hm," Ford said, fully focused on the scanner.

Bill's shoulders slumped. He hopped to the other side of the crack in the earth from Ford and strode ahead purposefully, ignoring him.

He glanced at a wooden sign staked next to the crack, nearly passed it, and did a double take. The sign read "MABEL'S FAULT". Bill laughed in surprise. "Who did this?"

"What—?" Dipper caught up and saw the sign. "Oh."

####

2012

Mabel's smile faded as she entered the clearing. "Oh. I... think this is the place where—Bill tricked me in Blarblar's body."

"Guess that explains all the rips in this area," Dipper said. He patted Mabel's back.

She looked down—and spotted the new crack in the ground. She gasped, immediately latching on to the distraction. "Hey, what's that! That wasn't here before!" She knelt next to the crack and peered inside. "Whoa!"

"Huh. Maybe it opened up when the rift broke?"

"How deep do you think it goes?" Mabel hopped back up, straddled the gap, and yelled down into it, "Hello!"

"Careful," Dipper said. "What if it's unstable?"

"We should give it a name," Mabel said. "It's a new geographic feature! We can put it on maps and be famous! What'll we call it?"

"Huh." Dipper stroked his chin. "Well... it looks kind of like a miniature fault line... and you were here when it formed, so I guess that kinda means you discovered it... so maybe... 'Mabel's Fault'...?"

Mabel stared at him.

Dipper's eyes widened in horror. "Oh. Ohh no."

Mabel bit her lip.

"I didn't mean it that way! I swear I didn't mean it that way—"

"Dipper!" Mabel cracked up. "We're calling it that."

"No," Dipper said, mortified. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Please please don't—"

"Grunkle Staaan, Grunkle Fooord!" Mabel took off toward where they'd last seen their grunkles. "Did you hear what Dipper said—!"

"I'm sorryyy!"

####

2013

Dipper cringed. "Look, I didn't hear it until I said it out loud, okay—"

Bill burst out in shrill cackles.

"I didn't mean it!"

"Y-you're the worst brother ever!"

Dipper groaned, contemplated climbing down into the fault, and instead settled for pulling his hat down over his face again.

Ford passed by with the scanner, shot Bill a suspicious sideways look, and demanded, "What's so funny?"

Still laughing, Bill gestured at the "MABEL'S FAULT" sign.

"Oh." Ford glanced at Dipper, fought not to smile at the poor kid's embarrassment—he'd gotten enough teasing last summer—and said, "Right." He moved on.

"Hey," Bill called, "What's the score?"

Ford paused, but didn't reply.

"Well?" Bill pressed. "You're already past where the rift broke! Don't you figure that's where the most rips would be?"

Ford said, "The scanner's detecting about fourteen thousand."

Bill whistled. He meandered back to Ford's side of the fault. "Sounds like a lot. I'm telling you, the wormholes in this place should've been sutured, that's what your problem is."

"It is a lot," Ford said brusquely. He hesitated. "But."

"But?" Bill prompted.

"But... it's less than a fifth of what we'd expect to see if the fabric of reality were falling apart."

"Wow. Let me pretend to be surprised." Bill made zero effort to look surprised. "That's because the fabric of reality isn't falling apart. You idiot."

Ford glared at his scanner silently.

"You fool," Bill tried. "You buffoon."

Ford rounded furiously on him. "The more you say it's nothing, the more you just convince me that you're lying!"

"Which is stupid! If you always assume I'm lying, how do you know I'm not saying 'it's nothing' to trick you into thinking it's something when it isn't!"

"I don't know! There's no way to know with you! That's why I'm checking with a scanner!" Ford pointed aggressively at the scanner. "Because I'm a scientist!"

"You're a pretty pathetic scientist if you refuse to listen when the expert on a topic tells you what's—"

"—maybe if the self-proclaimed 'expert' weren't a mythomaniac—"

"Guys," Dipper said tiredly. "You've had this argument three times. Can we move on?"

Ford closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Right."

"No," Bill said. "Not until I win it."

"Can it, Bill." Ford glanced toward the sky to orient himself, looked around for the path through the trees, and started walking. "Come on. Next site—the place where the rift closed."

Bill clenched his jaw. Under his breath, he muttered, "As if I've ever done anything in my life to make me look untrustworthy..." He glanced up as well—and his gaze lingered on the sky much longer than Ford's.

####

"So I was thinking about what we could do after this," Dipper said, looking hopefully up at Ford.

It took a moment for Ford to drag himself out of his thoughts and look at Dipper. "Yes? You mean after..."

"After the ecl—" Dipper winced, "the... rips get sealed, or whatever's going on." He'd pulled out his journal and was holding it hopefully. "Maybe... I could show you the research I've been doing on the Fremont Nightwigglers? I think they've been stealing pants in town."

He gave Dipper a little more attention. "Is this one of their migration years?"

"Yeah, I think so! One was caught on a security camera—or at least what looks like one. Here." Dipper flipped open to the two-page spread he was currently working on and held it up for Ford to inspect.

He studied the pictures, smiling slightly. "Would you look at that. Very impressive research. I only experienced one migration during my time in Gravity Falls, and they'd all but moved on by the time I caught wind of it. Never even saw one—I had to interview the townspeople to get a description of them."

"Really? I don't remember seeing them in your journals."

"Ah, they never made it in. I was focused on compiling magical spells and artifacts for Journal 2 at the time. I took some notes with the thought of putting them in Journal 1, but never felt like I'd collected enough information to write about them—especially when I hadn't witnessed one myself," Ford said. "You've already collected more here than I ever did. I wasn't even sure they were real!"

Dipper's face lit up. "Really? It's not that much—I still haven't found one yet either, it's mostly interviews about the crime spree."

"It's more real investigative work than I did on them. I only got as far as asking a couple of people at the diner to describe the local stories. You've got the dates and times they've been hitting the stores."

"I guess so." Dipper beamed proudly. "I haven't heard any 'local stories' about them, though. I only recognized them from a documentary I saw on Californian cryptids."

"That might be the Blind Eye's handiwork. Everyone recognized the name when I lived here. I'll see if I can dig up the notes I took, you might find the information valuable," Ford said. "I'm not sure where I left them, but they're probably still somewhere in my study."

"Scrapbook in your study on the top right corner of your desk," Bill said. "Under the box of glue bottles. You're welcome."

Ford threw him an irritated look. Bill had gotten ahead of them while Ford was looking at Dipper's journal, and now he was crouched beside a creek, scooping up handfuls of water, momentarily inspecting them, and letting them spill back out. The eye on the hood stared balefully up at Ford from Bill's back.

Ford asked, "What in the world are you doing."

"Communing with the dread harbingers of the coming eclipse," Bill said flatly. "You can't see them of course, they're invisible to you."

"Of course." Ford muttered, "I don't know why I bother to ask."

Under his breath, Bill mumbled, "Don't know why he bothered to ask."

Ford studied the creek and checked his map. They were hiking east toward the lake, with the town to their south and the cliff to the north; the creek ran north to south in front of them. On the other side of the creek, southeast of them, was a thicker, overgrown part of the woods, the shadows between the trees darker and quieter. "This seems like a safe place to wait," Ford said. "Dipper, you stay here while I scan the next site. Keep him out of trouble."

Dipper nodded. Bill cast Ford a sullen look, then rolled his eye and looked back at the water.

"After I've checked the next spot, we'll follow the cliffside to the lake," Ford said, pointing northeast, away from the dark area of the forest. "If there's still daylight, we can take a boat behind Trembley Falls and set up camp inside the cave."

"Sounds good." Dipper looked at Bill's tiny borrowed backpack. "You... didn't bring a tent, did you."

"Sorry, do you think I have a tent to bring?" Bill asked. "Do you expect me to slide an entire tipi out of my—"

Ford interrupted, "Dipper, you brought a tent, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then that's sufficient. You can share my tent and we'll set up Bill's as far from ours as possible. We'll be safer that way."

Bill ignored the implicit accusation with silent dignity.

Dipper nodded. "Good idea."

"Now, let's see..." Ford studied the creek. It was much wider than he could usually jump, but under the current gravity conditions... He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times, testing how light he currently felt; then took a few steps back, got a running start, and with a "hup!" leaped across the creek. He cleared it by several feet and almost ran into a tree.

Dipper gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dipper! Just... don't know my own strength." How low was gravity now, he wondered? He could see grass swaying beneath the surface of the creek. It hadn't rained lately; without as much gravity, even water was being pulled down less, letting it rise higher and flood the creek's banks. He hoped they figured out how to reverse this before the lake flooded. When they made it into the cave, they'd have to camp on high ground. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dipper side-eyed Bill; but when he kept gazing into the water without a word, Dipper said suspiciously, "What, no complaints about camping?"

"What's there to complain about?" Bill asked.

"I don't know, you've complained about everything else so far."

"This is the only part of your expedition that isn't a terrible idea," Bill said. "I love camping! Hypothetically. The Nightmare Realm isn't known for picturesque campgrounds. But hey, I like being surrounded by trees. And a private tent? Deluxe accommodations! It's just too bad you'll be dragging the mood down."

"Hey."

Bill laughed. "You're too easy."

Dipper scowled. "You don't seem like the type to be into camping."

"Why not?"

Dipper thought about it. "Man, I dunno, you just—seem like a city person? You're always talking about how much you want to throw wild parties, that's basically the opposite of camping in the woods."

"Is it?" Bill asked. "Welcome to the cult of Dionysus."

Given what Dipper could remember about Dionysus from the book of Greek mythology he'd read in sixth grade, he supposed wild parties and hanging out in the woods weren't mutually exclusive. So what was it about Bill that made Dipper feel so strongly that he wouldn't be caught dead roughing it?

Finally, Dipper said, "I guess it's the top hat and bow tie."

"They're not a top hat and bow tie."

He gave Bill a perplexed look. "Really? What are they?"

"Did you ever read that horror story about the bride with a velvet ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, and when her new husband unties it, her head falls off her neck and bounces down the stairs—?"

Dipper shuddered. "I'm sorry I asked."

Bill laughed.

After a brief silence, he finally dragged his eyes away from the water and impressively flicked a couple of mosquitoes out of the air with a finger. (Dipper wished he could do that. His arms were coated in soothsquito bite messages. He wondered what "BURN TACK" was supposed to mean.) Bill took off his backpack, rummaged around in it, and muttered, "I should've brought a book." He looked around the bank of the creek for a patch of sunlight, pushed his sleeves and leggings up to expose as much skin as possible, and flopped down in the light, eyes shut and hands laced on his chest over the backpack.

Dipper supposed that meant he was being ignored. He took his journal back out and flipped to the section on the Nightwigglers. He'd need some empty space to add Ford's local folklore once they got home. Was there any open space in the next few pages?

"It really shouldn't be called 'Mabel's Fault,'" Bill said out of the blue. "It's not her fault. It should be called 'Bill's Fault.' I'm the one who made it, aren't I?"

Dipper lowered his journal. "Sorry, are you actually accepting blame for something? You're admitting you did something wrong?"

Bill didn't even open his eyes. "I'm not 'accepting blame,' I'm claiming credit. Weirdmageddon was great. Can't help that you're all too boring to see that."

"But you said 'Bill's Fault.' Not 'Bill's Triumph' or something."

"Sure, because we're talking about a geological fault. Don't read too deep into it, kid."

"Pff, no, you definitely said it was your fault. I can't believe Grunkle Ford missed that—"

Bill abruptly sat up. "Hey. What's the 'next site.'"

"What?"

Bill counted off on his fingers, "Six-Fingers said there are four sites you want to hit, right? The place where the rift formed, the place Weirdmageddon started, the place the rift was during Weirdmageddon, and the place Weirdmageddon ended. The rift formed at the portal—been there—Weirdmageddon started at the fault—been there—during Weirdmageddon it was in the sky—going there tomorrow—so where did Weirdmageddon end? Wasn't it in the sky too?"

"Oh," Dipper said. "It's just. Y'know. It's just a... place."

Bill gave him a sharp look.

Dipper swallowed hard. "No big deal. Just... trees and stuff."

Bill flipped up his eye patch, staring in the direction Ford had disappeared. Dipper could see the white of his eye turning red.

"Hey!" Dipper got in front of Bill, trying to block the view of the forest. "It's nothing important. You—you wouldn't even be interested. Really."

Bill just stared straight through Dipper. And then, before Dipper could react, Bill was on his feet and bolting past him. By the time Dipper turned around Bill was already across the creek, following the path Ford had taken.

"No no no, come back!" Dipper jumped the creek and sprinted after Bill, shouting, "Don't go that way, you can't go that way, Bill—"

There was a dark, quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest, as if no animals had dared visit the area for nearly a year, leaving it to choke itself on its own greenery. Bill was headed straight for the heart of it. He moved through the trees like a swimmer through underwater ruins, kicking off trunks to propel himself forward, grabbing branches to help twist his body around and between them without slowing down—more flying than running, gravity hardly seeming to touch him at all.

He barreled past Ford and his scanner without even acknowledging him. Ford gasped, "Wait—" He turned the direction Bill had come from.

Dipper was squeezing between two trees and tripped over a hidden root. "Grunkle Ford—!"

"Dipper! You still have the bracelet!" Ford pointed, "Run the other direction!"

"Right!" He turned around and squeezed back between the dense trees.

And Ford took off after Bill.

Wild brambles tore at Bill's skin and ripped at his hoodie; he ignored the pain, letting the prickles bite into him as he forced his way through the shrubs—

And then he stood in the clearing, gasping in unsteady breaths, his wide unblinking eyes staring.

In front of him, wide unblinking eye staring vacantly into the trees, was his corpse.

"Bill!" Ford fought against the brambles, trying to figure out how Bill had gotten through. "Don't touch it! We don't know what could happen—"

Bill lunged for the statue.

The bracelet snapped tight around his wrist. Bill's fingers were inches away from his corpse's outstretched hand.

Thirty feet away, Dipper's bracelet went tight while he was trying to scramble over an ancient log. He awkwardly tried to keep his balance on the log; rather than risk toppling back in Bill's direction, he flung his weight the other way, keeping the invisible thread between them taut by leaning so far over that if it weren't for the bracelet holding him up he'd fall to the forest floor.

Bill fell to his knees, clawing at the dirt and grass with his free hand and feet, desperate to drag himself closer in spite of the completely immovable bracelet.

It seemed impossible to Ford that the thin invisible thread wrenching Bill's arm back would hold him for long; Bill would sooner dislocate his own shoulder to gain those last few inches. Ford fell out of the brambles and seized one of Bill's legs. "Bill—"

Bill tried to kick Ford in the face. "You KNEW!" he shrieked. "You knew I was here this WHOLE TIME and you NEVER TOLD ME, you ANIMALS! I could have had my body back! I COULD BE HOME!"

That was exactly what Ford was afraid of. Gritting his teeth, Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and the other around his neck, struggling to get enough purchase on the torn-up ground to move Bill.

Wheezing for breath, Bill tried to kick out one of Ford's knees. Ford took advantage of the split second one of Bill's feet wasn't dug in to drag him back; he only managed to move him a few inches.

But a few inches of slack on the invisible thread was enough to throw off Dipper's balance. He instinctively tried to flail back upright, overcorrected, and tumbled off the log the wrong way. "No—!"

Bill lunged out of Ford's hold, scrabbled across the last few inches to his corpse, and planted his hand on his stone face.

He froze.

Ford froze.

Nothing happened.

"N..." Bill grabbed his arm, grabbed his hand, as though trying to shake on a deal with his own body; nothing. "No." He sounded more confused than anything. "No, no, nonono..."

He hung off the statue by his grip, pressed his forehead against their joined hands. And then he let go and slowly put his trembling hand on the dead face. And then he sat there, breathing shakily, every few seconds sucking in a hitching gasp that made his shoulders jerk.

Ford gingerly got to his feet, brushed his clothes off, and looked at Bill. He didn't move for a moment; then reached for Bill's shoulder; then stopped, curled his hand into a ball, clasped it behind his back, and turned away. "Dipper," he called. "You can come back. It's..." He cast one last glance at Bill, then forced himself to look away. "It's safe."

By the time Dipper caught up, Ford had made his way back into the overgrowth, leaving Bill alone in the clearing. Dipper started, "What...?" but fell silent when he saw Ford's face. He looked past him at Bill and winced.

Ford shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "We should give him..." Dipper nodded.

Bill remained kneeling for less than a minute. Then he leaned forward, used his sleeve to wipe some of the moss off of his dead eye and the bird crap off his hat and hand, and unsteadily heaved himself back to his feet. He moved like he was very, very old. He glanced over his shoulder at Ford and Dipper. "What're you two staring at." His voice sounded like somebody was attempting to strangle him and his smile looked like a zombie had pulled its skin back on wrong. "You should've said you were waiting on me. I was just..." His eyes briefly unfocused. He shook his head. "Just taking a break." His cheeks were dry. He hadn't even cried.

They stepped back as Bill wove around the brambles. Dipper swallowed hard and asked, "Are you alr—"

"Of course I am." Bill plodded mechanically toward the path out of the dense dark woods.

Ford asked, "Do you want t—"

"What I want is to get wherever we're pitching our tents before nightfall." Bill pulled his eyepatch back in place. "You're making us camp, right?"

They had no choice. If they wanted to get to the top of Trembley Falls, reach Gravity Peak, and get back down the same day, they had to be ready to ascend in the morning. They couldn't afford to go back to the shack tonight. "Are you s—"

"What were the readings like," Bill asked.

Ford hadn't even gotten as far as taking readings around the statue; he'd still been checking the perimeter of the overgrown zone when Bill ran past. He looked for where he'd dropped his scanner, picked it up, and checked. "215 micro-rips detected. Higher than baseline levels, but—not even as high as readings around the portal."

Voice thick with venom, Bill said, "What a surprise."

When the forest had brightened again and the creek was visible, Bill turned to travel upstream alongside it. Dipper pointed across the creek at Bill's backpack. "You forgot your..."

"Right," Bill said tiredly. He hopped across the creek.

And gasped in shock when, instead of floating across as before, he landed heavily in the middle of the creek. He squeezed his eye shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a long, silent inhale; and then he climbed out and grabbed his backpack. This time, he put enough force behind his jump to make it back across the creek.

Dipper and Ford exchanged a look. Ford said, "Do you need a minute to dry—?"

"No."

"You could catch a cold in those damp—"

"I knew how germ theory works on your planet when your gill-breathing ancestors were still swimming around in their own feces," Bill snapped. "When I say 'no,' it's not because I don't understand, it's because I don't care. Don't treat me like I'm ignorant and don't act like you care."

Ford's jaw tightened. No, he didn't care. Bill accepted basic human decency as easily as he offered it. "Fine. Catch pneumonia."

"Fine!"

Ford pushed past Bill to lead the way to the lake. He tried not to notice how Bill was trembling.

####

Maybe ten minutes passed in silence before Ford worked up the nerve to say, "You—know why we didn't tell you." It was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Bill was silent for a long moment. "Of course I do." It was the closest he'd get to accepting it. "When I get my power back, I'm going to invent a very clumsy, easily startled species of bird whose feathers are scalpel blades. And then I'm unleashing a million in the shack, barricading the doors, and blowing an air horn."

Dipper grimaced. Ford muttered, "Thanks for reminding us not to feel too bad for you."

Bill let out a raw, broken laugh.

It was a very quiet hike to the edge of the lake.

####

After spending the first half of the expedition trying to hurry Ford and Dipper up, now Bill was the anchor slowing them down. He trudged so slowly that Dipper kept having to stop to give his bracelet a little slack; but Bill kept moving, and Ford and Dipper agreed without speaking not to say anything about it.

By the time they reached the lake, the sun was just touching the rim of the mountain curling west around Gravity Falls. The water had risen so far, it flooded the roots of the trees nearest the shore. Far down the shore, distant dark dots, locals were doing cannonballs off the submerged pier, reveling in how high they could jump, how slowly they fell, and how their splashes hung suspended in the air.

Under the unusual conditions and with night coming on, Ford decided that it wasn't safe to try to set out for the cave under the falls. They'd camp on shore and start in the morning.

This, unsurprisingly, started another fight with Bill. "If we were falling behind, you should have said so, I'd have picked it up—!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to imply you were too ignorant to tell the time—"

"The time isn't the issue, I just didn't think you'd give up for the night before it's even civil twilight—!"

Dipper just found a low hill to pitch his tent on.

When Bill noticed, he broke off the argument, flung his hands in the air in defeat, and crouched by the lake to sulk and study the water. He reflexively scratched his arm, pushed up his sleeve with a frown, and read the soothsquitos' message. "'Deeth in the mourning,'" he muttered. "What's deeth? That's not a word."

Maybe they'd been trying to spell teeth, Ford thought. Why would they warn Bill about teeth?

Ford pitched his tent, he and Dipper made a fire, and they attempted to reconstitute some of Ford's dehydrated astronaut food to mixed success. Bill stayed by the lake and tried to eat the cereal he'd brought, but gagged on the second handful and decided dinner wasn't worth the effort.

As Ford cleaned up after dinner, Dipper rummaged through his backpack. "Hey, Grunkle Ford. So..." He pulled out a portable chess kit. "I brought this to Gravity Falls back when I thought this would be a normal summer and I thought we might go camping? And, well, here we are, and I guess things are kiiinda weird, but, I mean... might as well...?"

Fiord smiled wanly. "I think that's just what we need to unwind."

They unrolled Dipper's canvas chess board and took several tries to set up the pieces on the uneven surface. Ford let Dipper take white; he figured the younger and less experienced player could use the advantage of going first.

Bill wandered over with a can of cider early in the match and crouched at the edge of the firelight to watch. He had rolled his sleeves back down, tied his bow tie, and flipped up his hood, and in the dimming flickering light he looked disconcertingly like his real self. He hadn't bothered to stuff his hair into his hood, and it gave the impression that some strange golden internal organs were spilling out of a gash beneath Bill's eye.

After watching for several minutes, Bill said, "Dibs on playing the winner."

Ford and Dipper said, "No."

"Why not!"

"Because we don't like you," Dipper said.

"Oh, come on." Bill ignored Dipper, turning toward Ford. "Remember how much fun we used to have?"

"I remember that you're an incorrigible cheat and made every game miserable," Ford said.

Bill reeled back. His face was hidden under the shadow of his hood, yet somehow the shadow gave off the impression of fury. He chugged half his cider, unslung his backpack, and dug around inside it. "Who wants to play against humans anyway." He unscrewed a bottle of cold medicine, topped off his cider, and poured the concoction down his throat. "Ugh. You're not even any good. Black's got mate in three and I bet neither of you can see it."

Ford and Dipper stared at the board, trying to find the looming checkmate.

Bill stood. "I'm gonna go hallucinate, pass out, and hallucinate some more. More fun than hanging out with a couple of nerdy losers playing a stupid game of..." He trudged off toward his tent, muttering to himself.

Ford concluded that Bill was probably making up the mate in three—although not confidently—and returned to the game with a sigh. "It will be nice to drop him back in the shack," he muttered.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah."

Ford won—not in three moves—and they started a new game. Several minutes in, Dipper asked hesitantly, "Grunkle Ford? Do you really think the micro-rip theory...?"

Ford pursed his lips, but admitted, "Out of all the locations of concern, you could argue that the spot in the sky where the rift spent a week floating has the highest probability of sustaining lasting damage, so we still need to check. But..." He shook his head. "Based on the empirical evidence—I'm beginning to have my doubts."

Dipper's shoulders relaxed; part of him had worried questioning the Acceptable Theory would be taken as disloyalty. "Then, what do you think about Bill's...?"

Ford snorted. "'Gravitational eclipse' explanation?" He propped his chin in his hand, thinking. "I'm only certain of two things: Bill knows exactly what's going on; and he's hiding something he doesn't want us to know. Everything he's told us so far is what he wants us to think is the truth, and because of that, any of it could be lies. He hasn't given us anything we can independently verify in any way—just vague claims he expects us to take his word for and refuses to elaborate on. Even if he is telling the truth, it doesn't matter. We have to act like... not like he's lying, per se; but like what he says has no correlation with whether it's true."

And thus had been the case with everything Bill had said and done since his capture. Every power he claimed he still had, and every power he acted like he'd lost. Every bit of magical, historical, or interdimensional trivia he spouted off to make himself sound smarter. Every sweet thing he'd said to Mabel, every favor he'd offered Stan—and every time he'd told Ford he wanted to be "friends."

Dipper nodded. "Mabel says that's just how Bill talks. He doesn't care about whether what he's saying is true, he just tells you what he thinks should be true."

Ford would have to keep that in mind when talking to Bill in the future. "That girl's a wizard with Bill. Maybe she's right." Still—he had a hard time believing that figuring out what Bill was really saying had actually been that simple all along. (Maybe he just didn't want it to be that simple, after all the time he'd wasted.)

Ford glanced down at the ring the Hand Witch had gifted him. The first time she'd given it to him in the eighties, she'd told him that if the ring ever turned black, he'd chosen the wrong friends and doomed himself. He couldn't tell if it was just the firelight, but as he looked in the deep blue cabochon now, he swore he saw a swirl of black spiraling beneath the surface. He wished he knew what that meant—was he supposed to trust Bill more, or had he already absentmindedly taken something Bill had said on faith that he shouldn't have? Had that swirl first appeared only now during the eclipse, or when Ford had started studying the miniature grimoire Bill had gifted him? Was it even due to Bill? Ford hadn't studied mood-ring-o-mancy.

Dipper snuck a rook onto Ford's back row. "Checkmate."

Ford huffed. "Well done." He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even noticed Dipper lining his rook up.

Dipper pushed Ford's king over. It dramatically fell in slow motion.

They packed up the chess board, put out the campfire, and slept uneasily.

####

In spite of the sedative cold medicine, Bill couldn't get any decent sleep. It wasn't even a good trip. Every time he shut his eyes for a few minutes, he hallucinated/dreamed that he was locked back in the shack staring at the high attic ceiling, or staring silently at Soos's bedroom—or watching over the town graveyard from high above; or locked like a hunting trophy in a glass display case in some local hick's darkened den; kidnapped and tied up beneath Gideon's bed; closed in a dark airless leather box; preserved like an ancient relic in the museum; hovering above Gravity Falls' valley and trees in the still night sky —

—or petrified in the middle of a quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest.

Or still in the tent but with his head wrenched around wrong, unable to move or feel his limbs, staring out at an angle that should have been impossible—until he awoke with lungs heaving to find his body was right and he wasn't dead; only for the humanity of his shape to reassert itself and he envied the stone corpse.

He crawled out of his tent, threw up his ill-advised concoction of cider and cold medicine, and collapsed, slipping in and out of a delirious doze until morning.

####

(I have been so looking forward to inflicting this chapter on y'all. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think, and if you thought that was bad then stay tuned for things getting even worse for Bill!! 🎉)

#(there's another 2 pics I might later add at the top; but I don't wanna spoil it when the chapter's new. give folks a day to read or so lol)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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skiller0dani · 2 years

Text

Touch | Kaz Brekker

M A S T E R L I S T Other Masterlist Shadow and Bone Masterlist

smut | mutual masturbation requests info w.c | 4.4k summary | Kaz is convinced you're angry with him, angry enough to leave him. Despite Jesper's reassurance, Kaz is utterly convinced you're about to leave him. He sends Inej to spy on you, he needs to understand what he did wrong...so he can win you back.

I've only read half of Six of Crows and have seen Season 1 of the show (rewatching it before I watch Season 2). So I apologize if I get things wrong Lore-wise. If I do get something wrong, please feel free to help correct me so I don't get it wrong again. I don't know much about Ketterdam or about the correct terminology about how to describe Ketterdam, please be patient and bear with me while I'm learning.

Possible part 2? ;)

Song

You were angry with him, Kaz was sure of it.

He didn't know what he said or what he did, but he knew he did something. You had been avoiding him, tucking yourself away in the back corners of the Crow Club, or running off with Jesper. You usually spent most of the day wherever Kaz was, in his office, or lounging in your shared bedroom until Kaz needed you. The two of you had been together for about a year now, and he knew you better than you knew yourself. That's how he knew you were angry with him, and by the lack of attention you were giving him you must be really angry with him. It made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

Jesper, who happened to be your closest friend, tried to reassure Kaz that you weren't upset with him but Kaz didn't believe him. Surely if you weren't angry, you'd tell him that yourself. Yet you sent Jesper to talk to Kaz on your behalf, had he really screwed up to the point of receiving the silent treatment? What on Earth had he done? Was he spending too much time away from you? There was a rather complex job he had been swept up in recently, along with someone with sticky fingers skimming from the pot. Or worse, were you finally becoming impatient with his touch aversion? Despite being together for as long as you two have been, he has yet to touch you at all. Not even a light kiss, nothing.

Kaz has briefly opened up to you about Jordie, about the firepox, and of course about Pekka Rollins. You knew why Kaz couldn't bear the feel of skin, but maybe you finally had enough. He knew you had sexual needs not being met, knew you were quite promiscuous before you had begun dating him. He felt insecure about that sometimes, about how it felt like you were sacrificing something to be with him. What if the sacrifice wasn't worth it anymore? Were you cheating on him? No, you wouldn't do that. You were many things but cruel wasn't one of them, Kaz has never known you to do a single cruel thing to anybody.

Still the fear kept clawing at the inside of his head, is that why you were spending so much time away from him? Why you kept sneaking off with Jesper? Did Jesper know about this? Was he covering for you? Kaz knows that Jesper is quite promiscuous himself, in fact that's how you met Jesper. A exciting night on the town before you had joined the Crows, which led you to Jesper's bed. Of course, the two of you realized you had no romantic or sexual chemistry and opted instead to see what trouble you could get up to in Ketterdam. That's how you ended up meeting Kaz, Jesper had brought you to him when you were in need of work. You joined the Crows, and the rest is history.

Despite how hard he tried not to, Kaz fell in love with you. He didn't show it, or say it really other than the one time he did say it. But he thought you knew, that's how you two worked. Neither of you required words or actions to know how you felt, but maybe Kaz had been wrong. Was he neglecting your needs? Did you feel satisfied and loved by Kaz? Were you seeking companionship and affection elsewhere? He couldn't stop his mind from spiraling, it was beginning to impact his ability to run the Crow Club. He often found himself distracted when his eyes landed on the empty spot you usually occupied next to him. It's what led him to seek out Inej, and ask her to do something he wasn't particularly proud of.

"You want me to what?" Her voice was incredulous, you were also a close friend of Inej's. She didn't feel right spying on you, and the seriousness in Kaz's gaze unnerved her.

"I need to know if...if she's seeing somebody else." Kaz explained, his head hung low and his gloved palms pressed flat against his desk.

"She isn't." Inej states firmly, she knows you're head over heels for Kaz. You've been utterly enamored by Kaz since you first laid eyes on him.

"She's been distant. Is asleep before I come to bed and is gone before I wake up. Spends more time with Jesper than she used to, hardly looks me in the eye. Something is wrong. I've done something. I've driven her away somehow, I need you to tell me who she's been seeing." Kaz says, his teeth gritting at the thought of someone else touching you, seeing your bare skin. Kaz needs to know who he is... so they can talk. Inej can't help but admit that your behavior has been odd lately, though she still doesn't think you're cheating on Kaz.

"Kaz-"

"She's going to leave me. It's a matter of time. Can I count on you to do this for me?" Kaz interrupts, this isn't a discussion. It's not something he's keen on discussing in depth either. He just needs to know. Kaz knows he's being unfair, he can see the way Inej has always looked at him. He feels guilty for taking advantage of her affections for him to ensure she spies on you, but he can't last another second without knowing.

"Yes, of course. I'll report back to you once I've learned who he is." She's out the window before Kaz even hears her move. He sucks in a shaky breath, he loves you. More than he's comfortable with if he's being honest, and the thought of you leaving him for someone who's comfortable touching you makes him angry enough to kill whomever the man is on sight. Angry enough to beat him until he's bloody and damn near unrecognizable. Kaz is a bastard of the barrel after all, they don't call him Dirtyhands for no reason.

Inej has been shadowing you for most of the day. You spent most of the day with Jesper, gambling, having drinks, searching for trouble. You had spent a bit of time quietly talking with Jesper, but the two of you know better than to talk loudly. You know spies like Inej exist, Kaz made sure to teach you how to keep your voice hushed. There was a pained look on your face as you sat with Jesper outside a pub. He had one of his classic warm expressions on his face, the one he uses to coax the truth out of you. He'd been victim to Kaz's anxious pestering and had decided to confront you about it. Inej hugged one of the nearby roofs, and tried to get close enough to listen.

"You can't tell anybody this Jes, I'm not joking." You say seriously and he nods instantly, scooting closer to you as your voice drops. You'd been having a problem lately, one you desperately wanted Kaz to fix but knew he couldn't.

"C'mon you know I wouldn't blab your secrets." He says with a playful smile, doing his best to ease your nerves. Jesper has also noticed you were spending more time with him than usual, but never questioned it because you were practically his sister. He loved spending time with you, but had begun to wonder if your relationship with Kaz was struggling. His concerns only heightened once he noticed how wound up Kaz seems to be about it.

"Is...everything okay with Kaz?" Jesper asks carefully, watching the look of disdain cross onto your face. Inej strains her ears, only catching Kaz's name.

"Yes. No. I don't know. It's all my fault." You push your head into your hands, feeling your entire body flush. The reason you'd been spending so much time with Jesper wasn't because you're angry with Kaz, it's because you feel no sexual attraction to Jesper. You could finally relax around him, being with Kaz all day has slowly gotten more and more difficult. You find yourself following the lines of his body with your eyes, the space between your legs dampening when you see Kaz's jaw tense or his fingers curl around his cane. He was driving you mad, you needed him so badly it was hard to think about anything else. You craved Kaz but you know you can't ask him to help with this particular problem...he isn't ready yet. That's fine, you'll wait forever if that's what it takes, but you don't want him to feel like he's neglecting you. Which is why you'd been avoiding him.

"Talk. What's bugging you? You're really starting to freak Kaz out." Jesper says softly, tilting his bottle back to swallow the alcohol inside it. Your heart sinks.

"I am? Shit." You didn't think he noticed with how busy he's been lately. Clearly he paid more attention to you than you originally thought. "Nothing is wrong, really. I'm just...frustrated."

"Why? What has he done?"

"No Jes, I'm frusrtated." You say, cheeks heating once the look of realization crosses onto his face. He chuckles.

"Oh. A year of unexpected celibacy hasn't done you any good has it?" Jesper teases, and you reach over to shove him. Inej is only catching pieces of the conversation, but the word 'celibacy' stands out like it's been outlined in neon lights. Okay, so if Jesper is teasing you about being celibate, you're clearly not cheating on Kaz.

"The first thing you need to do is be honest with Kaz. He's starting to spiral, I think." Jesper says and you feel guilt surge through you like you'd been dumped in cold water. You didn't want to worry Kaz, you just didn't want him to feel guilty for something that isn't his fault.

"Second thing you need to do is figure out a way Kaz can help you get off without having to touch you." Jesper says, as if that's the easiest thing in the world. Your cheeks color red, and you take the bottle out of Jesper's hand to take a drink. Inej definitely heard that, the more drunk you two get the less careful you are. She slinks back over the roof, knowing that she no longer needs to follow you.

"How on Earth can Kaz make me cum without touching me?" You know you should probably feel more bashful talking to Jesper about this than you do, but the first time you met him you nearly had sex with him. He's seen your entire body bare and it was halfway through the evening that the two of you came to the conclusion that it just wasn't working for either of you. Thus is the reason why you're probably more comfortable with Jesper than you should be.

"Two words my naïve friend, mutual masturbation. That way both of you can get your rocks on without having to touch each other." Jesper says, sly smile making its way onto his face once he sees the gears turning in your head.

"I am not naïve." You complain, drawing a laugh from Jesper.

"You know if Kaz ever finds out we spoke about this, he'll kill you." You mention and Jesper rolls his eyes.

"I'd like to see him try, gonna go talk to him now?" Jesper asks and you stand with a sigh.

"Yeah, I can't make him worry any longer."

Kaz was pacing back and forth in his office the entire time Inej was gone. He barely heard her re-enter through the open window, and when he laid eyes on her the first thing he noticed was her flushed complexion.

"Well? Who is he?" He asked expectantly, his heart already sinking in his stomach. She caught you sleeping with another man, that's why she looks so bashful. Why she has a hard time meeting his eye. She caught you cheating on him.

"Kaz...she isn't cheating on you." Inej says finally, and Kaz feels his eyebrows pull together.

"No, that's the only logical explanation. She has to be. What did she do today?" He demands, not at all believing Inej.

"Went drinking with Jesper, and I overheard their conversation." She begins, and Kaz stays silent, urging her to continue. There's tension in his shoulders and on his face, though Inej doesn't really know how to explain what she heard.

"I think it would be better to let Y/N explain. Trust me when I say she isn't cheating, and she should be on her way here now." Inej says and as if on cue there's a knock on his office door. He turns to face Inej again, but she's already gone. Kaz turns to open the door, and is unsurprised when he sees you standing in the hallway with a guilty look on your face. He opens the door wider to let you in, and you enter his office quickly pacing in front of his desk. Kaz closes the door behind you, watching you with nervous eyes.

"My love, please talk to me." He hates pleading, hates how weak he sounds but he can't help it. He can see the distress on your face, can see the tension being held in your body. He wants to fix it, and for a second he goes to pull you against his chest. He wants to hold you, but he feels panic crawling up his neck at the thought of touching you. Curse Pekka Rollins for damaging him the way he has, for causing this rift in his relationship.

"Kaz I promise I didn't mean to make you worry. I still love you." You rush out, needing him to know that first. Some of the worry eases then, but the concern is still there.

"I love you too darling, what's wrong? Talk to me." Kaz pushes again, taking a step closer to you. His eyes study your face, your cheeks are flushed, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you nibble anxiously.

"I'm well...I just feel uh frustrated." You say, putting it the same way you described it to Jesper hoping that Kaz catches on as Jesper did.

"Are you angry with me, love?" Kaz asks and you want to kiss him all over his face when you notice the adorably confused look on his face.

"No, not that kind of frustrated." You try again, and Kaz's eyebrows pinch together. Finally you see a look of understanding dawn his features and your cheeks turn even darker. So he was partially right, your sexual needs are not being met and you've finally begun to feel wound up. Kaz knew this would happen eventually, he's been hoping you don't leave him because of it.

"B-But I have an idea... if you're up for it." You start carefully, and Kaz swallows thickly. He's not sure he's ready to touch you, he wants to, can feel the urge bubbling beneath his skin. But he isn't there yet.

"Sweetheart I'm not sure I can touch you just yet," Kaz begins gently, guilt on his face as his eyes soften.

"You don't have to, just hear me out...please?" You beg, and the needy look in your eyes nearly makes his knees buckle. You feel like you could combust at any moment, the heat coursing through you is suffocating. Kaz has seen you naked by now, but neither of you have ever done anything like this.

"You could make me feel good, b-but I'll be your hands. Your voice alone could make me cum Kaz." You say shyly, watching his eyebrows shoot up at your words.

"You could make yourself feel good too, w-we could do it together." You explain, watching warmth crawl up Kaz's neck. A look you don't recognize crosses onto Kaz's face, it makes your entire body feel boneless at the intensity in his eyes.

"My pretty girl wants me to help her masturbate? Is that it?" His voice is low, a near purr and it sends heat straight between your thighs. Kaz knows you need more from him, and if his voice is how he can help meet your sexual needs then he'll do it. He'll do damn near anything if you ask him to. You nod instantly, already feeling tingles going south.

"Sit on the couch." He says, his voice rough as he pulls his office chair out to sit down in front of his desk. Before he sits, he turns for his office door.

"Undress." His voice is commanding, as is his presence in the room. You feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as your shaky palms shed your clothing layer by layer. Kaz also closes and locks the window before he sits back in his office chair. His eyes drink up every inch of bare skin that is slowly being revealed to him. You sit back against the couch once your undergarments fall to the floor and you're naked before him. You feel nervous, but the heat in his gaze is enough to make arousal pool between your legs.

"Spread your legs for me my love, I want to see you." He says, his voice still holding its commanding tone. It was obvious that despite the fact that he isn't touching you he's still very much in charge here- totally in control of your pleasure. You do as he asks, shyly spreading your legs and revealing your glistening folds to him. Kaz feels his pants tighten at the sight of you, you're practically dripping onto his couch.

"My poor girl, look at you. Must have been in desperate need of release for days. You should have came to me sooner, love." Kaz says softly, his voice making your body heat up. You nod fervently, your skin buzzing and you haven't even begun touching yourself yet. Subconsciously you seem to have submit to him already, accepting that he's the one in control. That you can't do anything without his say so, you should have known that he would be domineering in bed.

"Show me how you touch yourself when I'm not around." Kaz instructs and you send him a bashful look. You've never had such a direct audience to such an intimate moment before, but there's nobody else you could imagine doing this for. You lean back comfortably against the couch, your eyes landing on Kaz and you seriously have to bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of him. He's lounging back in his office chair like a King sat upon his throne. His legs are spread, and there's an obvious bulge in his pants. His eyes are dark and lust blown, his gaze glued between your legs.

You snake a palm down your stomach, your fingers lightly teasing your clit causing you to throw your head back.

"Keep your eyes on me." Kaz demands and you can't help but obey. You lift your head to keep your eyes on him as your fingers swirl circles on your clit.

"Tell me what to do Kaz, please." You whine, and the desperation in your voice makes his dick twitch. You see him subtly adjust himself as your fingers continue to play with your clit and run down along your slit. Kaz swallows harshly, his mind feeling unfocused and all he can do is watch the way you play with yourself.

"Push one finger inside yourself love, just one." He says breathlessly, and you obey and push one lithe finger in. You moan softly, pumping your finger but it's not enough. Your hips wriggle against the couch and Kaz can see that you need more.

"Play with your clit darling, and keep pumping that finger." Kaz instructs and the smooth undertone of his voice is making shivers run down your spine. Your other hand rubs harsh circles on your clit, and you feel like the temperature in the room has risen at least 10 degrees.

"You are breathtaking my love, an absolute vision." Kaz praises softly, he can't take his eyes away from your beautiful cunt. Your finger is wet with your slick every time it leaves your heat, and your lips are parted as soft moans escape you. He learned a long time ago that you like to be praised, that you crave those words of affection. He isn't big on being affectionate in public, but he usually compliments you every so often. If only to watch your cheeks darken and the goosebumps raise along your skin. He watches a shiver run down your spine at his words.

"You're doing so good my love, add another finger for me." Kaz says, and you push 2 fingers into your soaked cunt. Kaz palms himself through his pants, he's beginning to strain painfully against his pants.

"Kaz touch yourself, please I want to watch." You beg and Kaz swears in that moment he's died and gone to heaven. How could someone as beautiful and perfect as you be spread out naked on his couch? And yet he's still too afraid to touch you. He swallows thickly as he continues to watch you thrust your fingers into your cunt, and he's scrambling to open his pants enough to pull himself free. As soon as his cock is freed he's releasing a sigh of relief.

"Go faster my love, I want to watch you ruin that tiny little cunt." Kaz nearly pleads and you instantly pick up the pace, slamming your fingers into yourself. You moan again once you feel that coil winding in your stomach and heat sears through your entire body when you watch Kaz wrap a gloved hand around himself. You watch with lidded eyes as he begins to pump his shaft slowly, a soft groan escaping his lips. This is by far the most erotic thing you've ever done, and you've had your fair share of lovers before you begun dating Kaz.

"I'm- I'm gonna cum Kaz, can I? Please?" You ask, needing his permission before you let yourself release. Kaz growls softly, his own hand speeding up and jerking himself faster. He can see how fucked out you looked, he could hardly fathom how you'd look once he actually works up the courage to touch you.

"Yes sweetheart, cum for me. Look me in the eyes darling." Kaz says, and your eyes lock onto his as you feel your orgasm wash over you. You cry out softly, your body convulsing as you gush all over your fingers. Kaz feels his own orgasm creeping up on him as he watches you cum, you've never looked more beautiful. You suddenly get an idea and pull yourself onto your knees before him, making sure to keep your hands to yourself. You sit between his spread legs and look up into his eyes, blinking your doe eyes up at him makes him groan softly.

"Cum on my face." You say it so casually Kaz almost doesn't hear you. He feels heat sear through him once he registers what you've said, and he keeps quickly pumping himself. His head tosses back as the pleasure builds, but he can't help but pull his gaze back to you. You're waiting with your mouth open, eyes fixed on his.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful on your knees before me. Don't move my love, let me cum on your face." Kaz gasps, feeling his orgasm hit him suddenly. His chest heaves as white ropes of cum land on your face, mostly in your mouth. You hum happily as you swallow it down, wiping it off your cheeks and licking it off your fingers. Kaz watches with hooded eyes as you smile up at him, and then he does something you don't expect.

He leans forward and briefly presses his lips against yours to give you a quick kiss. It's quick, but its the first skin to skin contact with Kaz you've ever had. You beam up at him, and he's never seen you look happier than you did in that moment. He feels guilt seeping into his mind, has he really deprived you so much that a simple kiss brings you so much joy? Do you feel satisfied with him or is he damning you to a lifetime of longing for more? Kaz feels his skin prickling uncomfortably, but he leans down and presses a more firm kiss to your lips. He wants you to feel fulfilled. His lips move softly against yours until he feels nausea turn in his stomach and he pulls away. His heart is racing and he has to repeat to himself that it's just you, just you sitting naked in his office. He's safe, everything is fine. He has to repeat this to himself to keep the oncoming panic attack away.

All because of a simple kiss.

"Don't push yourself my love." You remind him softly as you lift yourself from the floor. He wants to reach out and take you in his arms, wants to press his face against the soft skin of your tummy. But he can't and he hates himself for it. Hates that you have to baby him and deprive yourself of the intimacy he knows you crave.

"Was this good my love, was it enough?" Kaz asks softly, hating how vulnerable he sounds. You turn, surprise on your face as you look at him.

"It was perfect Kaz, what's wrong?" You ask softly, reaching down to start pulling your clothes on.

"Are you happy with me? Am I fulfilling your needs?" Kaz tucks himself back into his pants and watches as you put your clothes back on. You look like a Goddess as you do.

"Kaz being with you has made me the happiest I've ever been in my life. You always make sure I want for nothing, where is this coming from?" You ask sadly, and your heart is breaking. How could he ever think he isn't enough for you as he is?

"You were sexually frustrated but didn't feel comfortable telling me because...because I can't touch you. Doesn't that bother you?" Kaz asks, hesitantly meeting your eye when you move to stand in front of him.

"Kaz...I just didn't want to make you feel bad. I don't mind that you can't touch me, I love you as you are." You reassure him but he still holds so much tension in his shoulders.

"You say that now. But can you handle not being touched...forever? I don't think you'll feel the same way 10 years from now." Kaz says, already having made his mind up on the matter.

"Kaz-"

"I want to take that step with you Y/N, I will overcome my...aversion...to ensure I meet all of your needs. Especially your sexual needs. Just be patient with me, please." Kaz says softly and you feel your heart swell at his promise. You nod with a soft smile, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and inhale his scent.

"I love you Kaz, always." You promise and you finally see the tension ebbing away from his shoulders.

"I love you darling."

#shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #shadow and bone smut #kaz brekker #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows

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pb-dot · 1 year

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15 Questions 15 Mutuals

@kaiarchives tagged me in this game that I haven't had the pleasure of seeing before, so that's exciting. The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

1. Are you named after anyone?

No.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last Sunday. I don't think it was for any particular reason, I just had a headache and was feeling down.

3. Do you have kids?

No.

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I played a bit of a football as a kid and a bit of volleyball for school. I also did range shooting in my tween years.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Quite a lot. I've been trying to cut back and be a bit more genuine, but my habit for being sarcastic and my generally low moods have given me a bit of Resting Bitch Voice, so people don't always pick up on it.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Facial shape I think. Before I learn someone's name I generally remember them by the shape of their jaw and cheeks.

7. What's your eye color?

Blue, but it's a kinda greyish blue.

8. Scary movies or Happy endings

I like scary movies with happy endings. Give me protagonists who face down with the worst of humanity or the nasties of the world and come out alive and swinging, if not a bit traumatized.

9. Any talents?

I'm told I have a way with words. In general I don't believe in talent in the "innate skill" way though.

10. Where were you born?

Oslo, Norway.

11. What are your hobbies?

Writing, reading, movies, video games (mostly strategy and roguelikes,) I used to sing in a choir and I kind of want to get back into that.

12. Do you have any pets?

No. Haven't really had the opportunity to, but I'd like to get a dog someday.

13. How tall are you?

178 cm, so... what, 5'10?

14. Favorite subject in school

Language and it's not close at all. Social Sciences as a second place I suppose.

15. Dream Job?

Author. Give me a way to live from writing and I'll churn out books at a brazen clip. It might drive me crazy, but it'll be worth it.

As for the tags: @frostedlemonwriter @shay-puppitty @longwuzhere @indigostudies @an-elegant-void @mjjune @marlenadutch @fire-but-ashes-too @meerawrites @sparrowrising @silverslipstream @floweryprosegarden @the-secondborn-of-seven @chishiio @a-had-matter

#tag game

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kichiyosh1 · 1 year

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What gives you the right to ignore me?!

Modern au! Scaramouche x reader

w:// this takes place somewhere from grade school to high school, and valentines day will be mentioned later on

When he tells himself that you aren't worth his time, but then starts hoping you don't think the same for him.

(it gets good the more you read it, I swear)

Scara being transferred seats for the 5th time this month because he keeps on picking on his former seat mates because he thinks of them as 'lowly worms'. Oh well, at least he should have some new form of entertainment now that he's seated next to— whatever your name was.

Not even a proper greeting was spoken when all he did was tap your shoulder. "and your name?", he has no need for such pleasantries anyways.

Sure he'd make fun of you later then go back to minding his own business the second after, but he at least would want to put a name to this person which he'd be stuck with for the whole school year(if he were lucky enough not to transfer seats the next few days later)

It took you a while to reply to him, eyes stuck scanning the pages of your book, then you gave him a small glance, and reply before going back to reading. "It's y/n", he's offended by how short of an answer you gave in return, but it's not like he asked for anything else other than your name, but the way you said it with such disinterest makes a shiver run down his back.

"Well? You should feel honoured that i have graced you with my presence. Don't get used to it though, don't think so highly of yourself just beca-","Didn't miss Kusanali transfer you here because you were misbehaving like a total brat? You act all high and mighty yourself when you can't even remember the name of your classmate that you've been in the same class with for awhile now." No ones ever stood up to him like that before, heck, you've completely gotten him off his high horse and all he can do is burn his stare at the side of your face, because despite all that, you STILL aren't looking in his direction.

He's not gonna waste anymore words with you. You're not worth his time anyways. Just another worm in the mud for him to stomp on, but for now he'll allow you to wiggle around in the comforts of soft soil, until it hardens and you have no choice but to dry up and die. Quite the poet he was, if not for his foul mouth and scheming mind.

He made it his personal mission to just ignore you. The only times where he's begrudgingly acknowledging you exist is when he's paired up with you by the teacher or when he REALLY has no choice but to confront you about something.

This would have came off as satisfying to him, the natural reaction of a person in his presence would be them wanting him to notice them, but you did not give an f, any f, at f'ing all.

He would hate to admit it, but he sometimes felt comfort in the silence you two shared, as there are also times where you would acknowledge he exists, like when he'd grumble about his broken pencil tip and you'd pass him a sharpener, or when he's about to fall asleep in class and you'd gently nudge him awake, but what irritates him is that you do all these little things while not even looking at him.

He didn't understand why he was getting frustrated. This is what he wanted, right? He got it, but it didn't feel as fulfilling as he first thought it would. Was he admitting that he wasn't quite fond of this mutual silent treatment? That maybe he'd prefer if you talked to him more, interacted with him more, hung out with him more?

"Like I'd admit to that!" it was after he suddenly blurted that out while standing and slamming his hands down on the table, that he realized the whole class was looking at him, giving him weird looks. A few laughs and chuckles were surfing throughout the room, but his attention wasn't on any of those pesks annoying voices. Once again, you weren't looking at him, but the small giggle that left your mouth had him staring at you in awe. "You look pretty when you smile", those words were lodged in his throat, and he'd rather choke then have those words spoken out for you to hear.

You're so annoying! would it kill for you to at least look at him when laughing at his misery? At this point he might as well admit he'll accept anything you're willing to give him, but it's not enough. He was never one to settle for less, so why now was he acting so shy. Might as well throw what he's thinking straight at your face, while twisting his words just a tiny bit, to save what little pride he had left.

____

"What gives you the right to ignore me, huh?!" "What law would I be breaking for 'minding my own business'?" You're insufferable, you really are, you must be so out of sync with your brain to have forgotten it was valentines day today, and he's so mad he doesn't know how he's supposed to give you the box he's been hiding behind his back, so in the end he never does. He hadn't realized he was storming out of the empty classroom (save for you two there) when he bumped into his homeroom teacher. She had no time to react when Scara was already shoving the box into her arms. "Eat it, give it to someone, throw it away, I don't care! To think I had my mom help me make those for that- that idiot! A waste of time!" he was already far off, still shouting his complaints, leaving a confused Kusanali standing in the hallway.

He wanted to cry, a part of him never wanted to see you again, but he already had the bare minimum of what he could get from you, what more if he wasn't there to catch a glimpse of your rare moments? Oh, and would you look at that, he's already at school earlier than what he's used to but he's doing this all for the sake of not having to awkwardly have to sit down next to you.

The classroom was already half filled when he heard the scraping of the chair next to him. He had his head in his arms, only allowing a small gap for him to take a peek at what you were doing. To no one's surprise, you were already taking out that same book, the one you were reading on your guys' first ever interaction. It was like he was back to square one, an ongoing routine of silence if not then it would be his one sided bickering. Too bad he wasn't feeling it today, but unfortunately, or fortunately for him, it was you who made the first move to speak.

"Hey"

Scared the sleep right out of him, his back straightened and staring into your— eyes? you? him? eye contact? when? eh? one look was all he took and suddenly he forgot how to blink. Presented to him at the palm of your hands was the same box he so carelessly gave to his homeroom teacher. "How did that end up in your hands?","Mrs. Kusanali gave it to me right before I left the school, but from what it says here, you are sender."

He took ahold of the box, and pasted right at its side is a small card that had 'To: y/n♥︎' and 'From: Scaramouche♡' written on it, alongside a very cringy love quote that almost made him want to gag.

"That wench!" He didn't even realize that card was on the side of the box, and from the hand writing alone he could already tell it was from Ei. His face scrunched up further once noticing the heart at the end of your names, even just that was enough for scara to look away out of embarrassment. "N-Not that I care if you liked them or not, but just know that I am NOT responsible for whatever THAT is."

The silence after that was just eating up at him. How did it go from denying you exist to having him here. He was holding onto the box too tight with trembling hands, it slowly crumpling just a tad bit his grip softening when your hands took place on both sides of his. "I think it's cute."

You had such a neutral expression on your face, but unlike before, your voice flowed smoother than any melody he's ever heard. "And thank you. Sorry I didn't get you anything, to make up for it, I'm letting you decide where we'll work for our next project."

____

He still couldn't believe you were actually talking to him and holding eye contact as well, he sometimes forgets you're human and not some unreachable deity.

He really couldn't take his eyes off you, and wanting to answer to a past question of yours, yes, ignoring him was most certainly a crime, if he wasn't able to spend these moments with you, it would be criminal.

"Hey, don't go ignoring me at my own house will you? or do you plan to just leave me there to finish the whole project without you?"

" I doubt you can, with you stealing glances my way for the majority of the time you'll be spending. What? think I didn't notice? peripheral vision exists you know."

"Like there's anything worth looking at you for."

"..."

"You did not just start—"

#kunikuzushi #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #wanderer

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jq37 · 3 months

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Would it be possible for you to briefly outline the gist of the Bad Kid’s relationships to each other in terms of individual pairs (i.e. Fig and Kristen, Riz and Fabian, Adaine and Gorgug, etc)? And if that’s too much, maybe specifically the Fig ones (I’m trying to get a sense of her friendships because they are so important to her).

This is SOOOOO late but I didn't have the time to write it when you sent it and then I figured I might as well wait till the end of the season to get a full picture and give the best answer. Hope it was worth the wait!

-----------------

Fig and Fabian: Fig and Fabian are the two that most closely fit the classic "cool kid" archetype (though obviously we know Fig is mainly a big sweetheart and Fabian is a loser no matter how high he rolls). As far back as S1 they were playing the party faces and schmoozing Penelope together. I think their friendship now is exemplified by the fact that when Fabian wanted to threaten his banker, Fig was there as his first mate to help out, no questions asked and no payment required. They're each others, "I can count on you to do this bullshit with me," friends.

Fig and Riz: I think Fig knows she doesn't necessarily have as much in common with Riz naturally as she does with some of her other friends but she obviously respects and deeply cares for him. The main reason she started taking her classes seriously Junior Year is because the whole party passing together was really stressing him out and she spent some of her very limited downtime sending Riz a, "Thinking of you" not to lift his spirits (though she signed it from Gorgug because she can't help being chaotic). Similarly, I think Riz obviously cares a ton for Fig even though he finds 70% of what she does crazy. Think about him following behind her to clean things up as she pretended to be a doctor and had to do surgery in Freshman Year. But I think she's helped him lean into his chaotic side a bit more as well--I always think about their side mission to hell in Soph year and her going, "Hiss at her litigator!" And at the end of Junior Year, he comes to the conclusion of, "I gotta let her do her own thing and not pressure her to live by my standards." So lots of mutual respect.

Fig and Gorgug: Fig and Gorgug have been besties and bandmates since Freshman Year. I've always had the sense that Fig has some big sister style protective feelings towards Gorgug since he's often the gentle giant of the group and this season, she hyped him up a ton with his Barbificer stuff. I would argue that, besides his parents, Fig is Gorgug's biggest cheerleader.

Fig and Adaine: Fig ALSO has sister energy with Adaine but it's less "protective older sister" and more "odd couple playfully clashing". Think them burning spellslots to fight for the best rooms in Mordred in Soph year and Adaine foaming at the mouth to get info about her crush on Ayda. They're living under the same roof so we have to assume they have a lot more interactions that we don't see and I feel like Adaine probably really enjoys that she gets to have closer to a normal sibling relationship with Fig since her blood sister is Aelwyn and that relationship is intense and meaningful but nothing approaching normal. The teasing is there but so is the genuine love--remember how devastated Fig was when Adaine was taken to Falinel in Soph year despite their best efforts? And her long hug during the Baron fight this season even though they were VERY MUCH on the clock. And Fig was Wingwomaning hard (along with the rest of the Bad Kids) to help her notice Oisin. Also think about Fig having a whole crisis of self during The Last Stand and turning to Adaine for reassurance and Adaine just going, what? Girl, no you're awesome and painting an arcane bullseye on her target so she could smite like crazy. Despite the playful ribbing, they have very supportive sister energy. "Absolutely my king, whatever you want."

Fig and Kristen: I think Fig and Kristen have two big things is common. One is they're both very chaotic people and the other is they have both gone through kind of intense rebellious periods spurred by or resulting in family trauma. Because of that, I think they likely get each other a bit better than the others might (and we can see that Fig followed in Kristen's footsteps a ton this season god-wise). Fig also decided to take on the protective, German Shepherd role over Kristen this past season which I think is partially for the bit, partially about personal development, and partially about just how much she genuinely wants to help protect Kristen.

Fabian and Riz: Classic jock/nerd friendship. The original Bardy Boys. The kind of friendship that is made special by the absolute lack of obvious commonality between the two parties. "The Ball" is a friendly nickname now. Oh how the turns have tabled.

Fabian and Gorgug: Fabian started out the series by attacking Gorgug for no good reason while he was being gifted a tin flower and midway through this season he was like Gorgug, you're quitting Bloodrush? I'm gonna miss you :(((((( even though they're still fully in a party together and spend so much time together. The bro energy has completely solidified. It's also funny that Fabian texted Gorgug like, "Congrats on making it with Mary Ann!" and Gorgug was like, "You do know I've had sex before, right? I come from an extremely sex positive household and I had a steady girlfriend for two years who also came from an extremely sex positive household." Fabian has all the aesthetics of a cool kid but Gorgug is actually about that life, lol.

Fabian and Adaine: This is another pair that I think has serious sibling energy (and not just bc they both have posh high elf backgrounds). I'm thinking about Fabian yelling for Adaine's help during The Last Stand (even though she was like why am I the one you're calling for help right now???). I'm also thinking about Adaine being like Fabian hit me :( during the Baron encounter and Fabian being outraged at the thought that he would ever hit her. I think if you asked Fabian, he'd say his best friends are Riz and Adaine (which is really funny considering they're the nerds of the group).

Fabian and Kristen: Bad decision buddies with no game who are still somehow getting their kisses in.

Riz and Gorgug: I think that Riz was one of the Bad Kids who realized how smart Gorgug really is the fastest. He's always like, "Nice one Gorgug," when he offhandedly comes up with a connection that helps solve the mystery and I feel like they have to work on gear and gadgets together. I think the fact that Riz believed Fig's lie that Gorgug wrote him the encouraging note says a lot and the fact that Gorgug immediately made him a real present (the Medal of Wit) also says a lot.

Riz and Adaine: Party nerds, investigation buddies, voices of reason with specific things that get them unreasonably angry. They are the only ones who were excited that there was an academic portion of The Last Stand. Riz made Adaine a folder with nothing in it at the beginning of Junior Year to say, "I'm not worried about you but I want you to be included anyway." Adaine in a conversation to I don't remember who said that she knows that at the very least she and Riz are going to college together. When everyone was wasting questions questioning Bakur, Riz told everyone to shut up except for Adaine and himself. They are the braincells of the operation and they have party nerd solidarity.

Riz and Kristen: I think Riz has a similar relationship to Kristen that he does to Fig. This season he was her right hand man with campaign stuff but ended the season like hey, do you. I don't want to put pressure on you. And Kristen in turn I think appreciated his efforts a bit more by the end of the season. I feel like it's easy to feel like their relationship is unbalanced but I think Riz is a lot like his dad and he not only feels weird when he's not working but also shows his love by working so it's more symbiotic than it may seem at surface level.

Gorgug and Adaine: Gorgug and Adaine don't interact the most, but I feel in my heart that they have a lot of chill, lo-fi study time together. This is me extrapolating a bit but I think they kind of inherently balance each other out. Gorgug being mechanically big and full of rage but really sweet. Adaine being small and polite but full of so much rage. In-universe you know she spends a ton of time standing directly behind him and casting spells while he soaks damage. That's gotta give you a special kind of camaraderie.

Gorgug and Kristen: Whenever I think about Gorgug and Kristen, I always picture them in Sophomore Year, Going Through It with their girlfriends at the same time, lol.

Adaine and Kristen: I think Adaine and Kristen's whole relationship is best summed up by three actions. (1) Adaine casting Friends on her to make her go to school so she won't fail and then Kristen giving her the Help action to be charmed. (2) Kristen making the effort to be mean-nice to Aelwyn because presumably Adaine told her she likes that better. (3) K2 being sent way and Kristen being like, "I did enjoy having a sister" and Adaine immediately going, "I'm your sister." (Which, from her history, you know isn't something she'd say lightly). I think Adaine is often exasperated by the insane shit Kristen does (see eg: ribbon dancing) but she was also right there hyping her up and helping her cover during the "Passed the test to give me new spells" fiasco at the food trucks. At the end of the day, Kristen respects the hell out of Adaine and Adaine is ride or die for Kristen.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #the bad kids #fig faeth #adaine abernant #kristen applebees #fabian seacaster #gorgug thistlespring #riz gukgak #asks #anon #d20 #I wrote this in several sitting so apologies if the tenses get weird or anything is off #just need to get this off my plate lol

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ayyy-pee · 6 months

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Chapter 11 - Kickflip

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: You and Choso take things to the next level.

Genre: Skater AU

Chapter Warning: Smut,P in V Sexy Time, Cunnilingus, Phone Sex, Profanity, Mutual Masturbation?, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex (don't be like them - WRAP IT UP), Creampie (at least we're on bc), Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior

A/N: thanks for your patience on this one! i took my time because i REALLY wanted to do this chapter justice. it's been a LONG journey to get here. this chapter ended up being JUST under 12k words omg. I hope yall enjoy!

When Choso pulls back, you find yourself chasing him, a small whine falling from your lips before you can even try to stop it. It’s pathetic really, how eager you are to be close to him after just this short time apart. He’s traveled for competition longer than this and yet, now that you’ve gotten a small dose of what life would be like without Choso within your reach, you’re positive that you never want to experience it again.

He chuckles softly, thumb caressing your cheek as you stare up at him. Those beautiful brown eyes of his seem to almost glow in the dark, hypnotizing you. You're not sure if you’d ever gotten lost in anyone's eyes the way you do Choso's. You’re so lost in them you barely notice when his lips begin to move, calling your name quietly. You only snap out of your daze when Choso cups your jaw in his hand and leans forward to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

“So…” He looks away for a moment. Like he’s wondering if it’s worth asking. But it must be because he asks anyway, “how did the conversation go?”

Ah, right. With everything that had happened tonight, and the intensity of it all, you had forgotten you let Choso know you would be heading to Suguru’s to talk.

Earlier that evening…

You’d called Choso before texting Suguru that you were heading his way. He was a little taken aback since the first thing that had left your big mouth after Choso said “hello” was “I’m on my way to Suguru’s place”.

“Huh…” was all Choso could muster.

You quickly scrambled to recover. It probably wasn’t the best idea to start off your first conversation in days by telling him you were heading to the apartment of the man he despises.

“Sorry! What I meant to say is I’m heading over to Suguru’s…to end things. For good.”

“Oh.”

The silence hung heavily between the both of you and you wondered if maybe you’d gotten the wrong idea from the voice message Choso had left you. Perhaps when he said he wanted the chance to sit down and talk, he truly meant he simply wanted to talk, and maybe end this messy affair you had dragged him into. And if that were the case, could you really blame him?

“He’s here by the way,” Choso mutters, pulling you out of your anxious thoughts. “At the park…” It’s then that you can hear the distant sound of wheels on pavement, so familiar to you after all this time.

“Oh, that’s awkward.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, though it’s only been some days, you hear that cute little puff of air that you know as the sound of Choso trying to hold in a laugh. It makes you smile. You wonder if he’s smiling with you.

“Will you be okay going alone?” He asks.

Would you? You were nervous, of course. You’d become accustomed to having Suguru in your life regardless of how awful he was. But you had no doubt in your mind that this needed to happen. In order to secure your future, in order to show the man on the other end of this call that you were serious about him, you needed to do this – alone.

You inhale deeply, trying to steel your nerves. “Yeah. I– It’s gonna suck, but I’m ready to let this go…to let him go.”

You hear Choso hum distantly on the other end, followed by a light tapping noise just before you feel your phone vibrate. Oddly enough, it’s a text from Choso.

ChoCho: It’s getting weird. He thinks I don’t see him watching me from across the park.

ChoCho: I’m gonna hang up. Good luck over there. Come meet me here when you’re done? We can talk.

The line goes dead…

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the present. Choso’s question echoes in your thoughts. “How did the conversation go?”

“Not well,” you finally answer. “But that’s not my problem anymore.”

To this, Choso hums. “No, not anymore. Are you alright, though?”

Choso’s voice is gentle when he speaks, concern evident in his tone. He’s still holding your cheek, eyes scanning your face and your hand comes up to hold his wrist. You nod.

He is so perfect. You wish you had realized it sooner. You would have saved yourself, but more importantly Choso so much pain.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just…” Your words are failing you now, at the worst moment and you bite down on your lip as you try to gather your thoughts. Choso waits patiently for you, as always, and it makes you bite down just a bit harder. You know you don’t deserve him. You’re the lucky one here; the real winner between this fucked up love triangle you’ve been forcing everyone into over the last few months.

His dark, piercing eyes bore into yours, and the kindness and care you see in them makes you tear up. The tears prickle along your waterline and you almost want to throw your arms around his neck so you can bury your face and hide your tears there.

“I’m so sorry, Choso,” you breathe shakily. He holds your gaze steadily. He’s always steady. Never wavering. The security he provides you only makes you more emotional and you have to swallow down the sob that's threatening to come. “Really…I can’t even begin to tell you how fucking sorry I am.”

“You have no reason to be sorry.”

“Stop, I do!” You argue, voice rising. He always gives you grace, always finds a way to make it seem like you weren’t a piece of shit stringing him along. He’s only ever truly been upset with you once, that you know of - the day of the photoshoot. It was the first time you’d seen Choso lose his composure, really show how upset he was with you and this whole situation.

And while you want to tell him to yell at you, stop excusing your actions, to be angry with you – because honestly, he should be furious with you – you know better than anyone by now that Choso wears his heart on his sleeve. What he feels in the moment, you’ll see, without hesitation. So, you inhale deeply, calming yourself before you continue. The last thing you want to do is turn this into some big spectacle, although there’s no one around to actually witness it this late at night.

“I’ve been dragging you along all this time, Choso. And you…you’ve been so patient and so kind and understanding when you didn’t have to be. I’m just…so sorry.”

Choso purses his lips as he takes your hand in his and squeezes softly. “I chose to stick around because I wanted to.” He brings your hand up to his mouth, presses his lips gently to your palm with a sweet kiss. “Because you were worth it.” Another kiss to your hand. “I just needed you to realize you were worth it, too.”

Your vision blurs, hot tears falling from your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You don’t want to cry in front of Choso. You don’t deserve to cry in front of him, but when you left Suguru’s and rushed to the park, you didn’t have much hope. You fully expected Choso to tell you he was done with you, that this was over.

You’d expected a “thanks for ending it with that loser, but it’s too late”. And you would have had to swallow that and accept it. It would have simply been your karma. So to be sitting here with Choso who sprinkles kisses along your skin…Well, the overwhelming thought of the night ending very differently has your emotions running wild.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you meet Choso’s gaze. His eyes have hardly left yours for a moment, even as he places delicate little pecks to your wrist, up your forearm. He leans forward, lips continuing their path as he kisses your shoulder. You tilt your head to the side so he has the space to trail those sweet kisses up your neck. And then he’s running his lips along your jaw, up your cheek.

The skatepark is empty, the only evidence of anyone around being the soft sighs from Choso and your quiet gasps when his lips touch the spots he knows make your knees weak.

And even in this wide open space, the air inside the little bubble that you and Choso reside in already feels thick with desire. With the way Choso licks at the most sensitive areas of your neck, groans quietly against your skin, you have an idea of where this night is soon to be headed.

You’re ready.

“Cho–”

You don’t have the opportunity to finish, the sound of Choso’s broken name falling uselessly between you as Choso seals his mouth over yours. Every kiss is tender, almost hesitant. It’s careful.

Just so Choso.

And that’s all that’s on your mind; the incredible man before you – Choso…

…who cups your cheek so gently as he pulls away and he asks…

“Will you…” A whisper into the kiss, and your brain is still stuck on Choso…

…whose soft lips caress yours again, just for a moment before he speaks once more…

“Come…”

You’ll go anywhere with him. Anywhere with Choso…

…who kisses you again, more passionately this time.

“Back to my place?”

And you nod without delay, because you have only a single thought rattling around in that head of yours…and it’s Choso.

- - - - - -

The air seems to have only gotten thicker between the two of you.

Choso had offered to follow you home, waited for you to pack your things and take you back to his place. It was then that the mood truly began to shift. From the moment you’d slid into the passenger seat of Choso’s car, it became a matter of whether or not you and Choso would even make it through the threshold of his home without tearing the other’s clothes off, the unspoken anticipation slowly eating at both your patience.

After placing your bag in the back of his car, Choso leaned over to grab the seat belt and buckle you in.

It wasn’t as if that was the first time Choso had done that for you. He always made sure to get the door for you, strap you in, ensure your safety. But this time, as Choso pulled the belt around your body, hand lingering so close to your chest, there was this spark of electricity between you that felt so intense, you could swear you heard it buzzing throughout the vehicle, felt it tingling along your skin. You know Choso felt it, too. You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and how he was careful not to touch you when he quickly secured the belt around you and clicked you in before putting the car in gear and driving off.

It happened once more when you finally pulled up to Choso’s house. Too in your own head and not paying attention, you’d opened your car door without looking only to run straight into Choso’s hard chest. He caught you easily, both arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while your palms rested flat against his pecks.

And there was that buzz again, radiating heavily between the two of you. The spark had always been there between you and Choso. This low, constant hum that kept steady. But tonight…tonight, this electricity felt dangerous, in the most exciting way.

You watch Choso’s gaze drift to your mouth, watch how his tongue pokes in his cheek. He’s kissed you already tonight, but he seems hesitant now. His hands grip onto the fabric of your clothes like he wants to pull you into him but he’s resisting the urge.

Maybe he thinks you’re not ready to take the next step with him. Or maybe he’s trying to take things slow for his own sake. Knowing Choso, he probably doesn’t want to give you the wrong idea. Doesn’t want you to think he only asked you to stay over because he’s trying to sleep with you. Another thing you really like about him, but you don’t give a shit about that right now.

Your heart is racing, pounding against your ribcage in anticipation. You’ve only got eyes for this man and you want him to wreck you. And it’s apparent he wants to do the same. You see the desire in his eyes, the way his pupils are so dilated his eyes are practically black as he stares down at you.

Your pulse quickens the longer you match his gaze. Then you finally speak, a hushed “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” Choso asks. You feel his hands tracing up and down your spine and your skin ignites with goosebumps.

“Yes.”

“And what exactly were you thinking?” His voice comes out rougher, raspier than normal and it only sets the small fire in your core ablaze.

“That I couldn’t wait to be with you…be alone with you.”

“Hmm.” His tongue slides along his bottom lip and your eyes snap down to the motion.

You want to kiss him again, taste his tongue on yours and have him taste you.

“Do you want me?” He questions. His hand slowly slides down to rest on the small of your back and just his touch has you so turned on you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out into the night.

“So badly, Choso,” you confess. Choso watches you squirm beneath his touch, trying to contain yourself. He’s trying to do the same, but he’s slowly losing the battle.

Every time you speak, every time you peer up at him with those pretty eyes and even prettier lips, he’s that much closer to losing himself to you. And he knows he will lose himself in you once he has you completely. Your taste has haunted Choso since spending your first night together. The memory of your mouth on him has taken over his thoughts more times than he can count. He daydreams of you constantly.

He needs you.

Choso releases his hold on you, then reaches into the back seat of his car and grabs your overnight bag. “We should get inside then.” He tells you. He swiftly turns around and you practically run after him, following him towards the entrance.

When you reach the front door, Choso lays his hand on the doorknob. Instead of turning it, he pauses briefly, then turns to you. And his stare shoots straight to your core. It reminds you of the very first time you’d ever been intimate with each other. Your cheeks warm and your heart thrums excitedly in your chest. You don’t dare look away.

Time seems to stand still, even as Choso pushes the door to his home open. Even as he takes your hand in his and lifts it to his lips, eyes still locked onto yours.

And your head swims once again with nothing but thoughts of Choso…

…who has never been anything but patient, kind and gentle with you…

…which is why it shocks you just a bit when Choso roughly slams his bedroom door, pinning you between it and his large body. His lips capture yours hungrily, greedily, desperately. Like kissing you is what keeps his heart beating. Your thoughts are foggy, Choso the only thing on your mind. You feel lightheaded from the intoxicating way Choso kisses you right now. You think you’ll float away if he stops.

He breaks the kiss, groaning when you take his bottom lip in your teeth and suck lightly. “Can I ask you something?” He mutters when you release him. There’s a crimson hue that has now appeared on Choso’s cheeks and spread to the tips of his ears. It’s so cute.

You make a mental note that it seems when Choso is feeling shy or nervous, that’s where he blushes the hardest.

“Anything,” you answer easily.

Choso bites down on his lip, looking you over. When his eyes settle on yours again, there’s something different in them, something hungry. His gaze falls back to your mouth and your breath hitches in your throat when you feel Choso gently press his thumb to your lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, thumb gently caressing along your bottom lip.

Then he kisses you, his thumb still on your lips, like he’s so desperate to taste you that he couldn’t be bothered to move it. It’s quick, one or two pecks and then he’s back to absentmindedly watching his thumb stroke along your mouth again.

Every kiss is becoming more and more dizzying, has your heart beating so fast, and so hard that you think if Choso leans just an inch closer, he’ll be able to hear it.

And if only you knew that if you leaned just an inch closer, you would hear his own heart clawing at his ribcage as he asks, “Are you mine now?”

Your hands find Choso’s chest and you ball the fabric between your fists, confident when you answer him. “Yes.”

And it’s true; you’re his.

But your answer doesn’t satisfy the man before you just yet. You see it in the frown line that forms between his brows, in the way his eyes stare into yours, searching.

“I need you to say it,” he demands. His large hands grip your waist now, and he’s leaning forward to press his forehead to yours, eyes drifting shut as he inhales deeply. “I need to hear you say that you’re mine now…just mine. Nobody else’s…” Choso’s hold tightens, only slightly. “Because you have no idea how much I want you right now. I want…” He pauses, taking another deep breath. “No, I need you to be mine. I won’t share you again.”

Your pulse picks up, the need in Choso’s voice only making your heart slam faster, if that’s even possible. You loop your arms around Choso’s neck, pulling him down just enough for your lips to touch. You want him to hear it when you say it. You want him to feel it when you say it. Feel it against him, feel it in him. And know that you mean it.

“I’m yours, Choso,” you whisper against his lips, and you can feel him melt into your embrace, a heavy sigh leaving him as he presses himself into you. “Only yours.”

Choso’s mouth finds yours, lips slotting against you, greedily swallowing every moan you let out as his hands trace a path to your waistband. He toys with the fabric between his fingers for a while, his lips now busy kissing and sucking what you’re sure are marks into your neck. This is a side of possessiveness you haven’t seen in Choso before.

It’s so fucking arousing. The way Choso tugs at your waistband, how he nips at the skin on your neck just before he runs his tongue over the mark to soothe the sting. You’re whimpering with every bite. You’re so painfully turned on, you can’t help but to push your hips forward, meeting Choso’s hard length confined within his pants. Then it’s Choso’s turn to whimper, face buried in your neck as he meets your hips, pressing himself into your groin again and again.

Choso wants to have you so badly, he can’t think straight right now. All he knows is that he wants you, and you want him. That you told him you’re his, and he’s always been yours. His heart swells with this news. This type of happiness is foreign to him, but he wants to get used to it…with you.

He kisses his way down to your collarbone, where he sucks new marks as his hips continue to grind into yours, pressing you harder and harder against the door. Your skin, your sweat, your taste on his tongue is intoxicating, and he only wants to have more.

“There’s so many things I wanna do to you,” he rasps, as he tugs at your waistband again.

“Yeah? Like what?”

To this, Choso hums as he leans back to look at you. “Honestly?”

Your brow arches, a slow grin spreading along your face. “Have you ever been anything but honest?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I always say what I mean. I always mean what I say.” He’s kissing along your neck again, pulling moan after moan from you as he breathes into your skin, “I wanna taste you, love.”

Love.

It’s not like Choso is telling you he loves you. It’s simply a term of endearment. And yet, the pet name has your silly little head spinning.

“Wanna make you cum on my tongue again.” He trails kisses down your throat, your chest, talking to you along the way. “You know the first time you did it?” He scoffs to himself, like he can’t believe that happened. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. I still think about it.”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, watching Choso’s slow descent along your abdomen, where he leaves sweet smooches along the way.

“I’ve been thinking about doing it again…” He’s on his knees now, fingers still hooked into the waistband of your pants. He kisses your left hip and your mouth falls open with a quiet sigh, clearly a sensitive spot for you. “Been hoping to do it again. So please…” Choso leans over, kisses your right hip and you can’t help the broken whimper falling from your lips. He peers up at you, brown eyes blown out with lust as he asks, “Will you let me taste you?”

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a sexier thing. This man who has quickly become everything to you, on his knees, begging for you to let him have a taste of you…

Suddenly you’re very aware of the extreme wetness pooling between your legs. You feel self-conscious for all of a second before you meet Choso’s lustful stare again. How could you deny him when he so clearly craves you?

You place your hands on top of his, pushing down and letting Choso drag your pants and panties all the way to your ankles before you kick them off to the side.

“You can have all of me,” you breathe. “I’m yours.”

Choso feels his heart skip.

“I’m yours.”

The words echo in Choso’s head, over and over until he can think of nothing else but you. Which is not unusual for him, but it feels like now that you’ve confirmed you’re his and his alone, he has this strange urge to also claim all of you.

Choso sits back on his knees, admiring the view as he cards his fingers through his loose hair. Is that all it takes to make you putty like this? Have you absolutely drenched with arousal? A few kisses to your neck and your chest? Your panties were drenched when he pulled them down. And the apex of your thighs, your pretty lips…they’re all soaked with evidence of your desire for him.

It makes Choso think that Suguru must not have been that good to you. Which is a pity because you’re so fucking beautiful when you look so disheveled like this. But that’s okay. He’ll treat you right. He’ll worship you like you deserve to be worshiped.

But he needs to pull himself together first because he’s not much better off than you. Clearly, a few kisses to your neck and your chest are enough to make him putty as well because he’s so turned on by just the sight of you. His dick is screaming to be released. He can’t seem to pull his eyes from your core, and he’s not sure if he wants to. He wants to taste you desperately. Even more so when his eyes drift up to yours and find you already looking down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly with heavy breaths of anticipation.

You want him just as badly as he wants you. And he doesn’t want to keep you waiting for another fucking second.

Choso closes the distance, pressing a soft kiss to your bare pussy and you shiver, the coil forming low in your belly already getting tighter by the second. You blame it on all the teasing looks, and the building tension on the drive over. The coil only grows tighter when Choso fully dips his tongue between your folds and begins lapping at your core. Your head falls back against the door, eyes closed tight as you concentrate on simply trying to keep yourself from crashing to the floor the moment Choso’s tongue immediately finds your clit like it’s muscle memory for him, licking light circles.

“Ah, Choso–” Both your hands hold onto his brown locks.

He opens his mouth, presses his tongue flat against your clit, and places loud, wet kisses to your pussy. You quickly lose yourself to the incredible feeling of his tongue lapping at you. He’s as amazing as he was the last time he was between your legs. Just as skilled, just as attentive, finding any and all spots that make your legs tremble even in the slightest. And he enjoys every reaction you give him. Every cute little sigh, every broken moan of his name…Choso loves when you say his name.

Because it’s his name on your tongue, no one else’s. Because it meant you were only focused on him. His name falling from your lips was honest, gentle, and seductive. And each time you sighed it, moaned it, or whimpered it, it made Choso work harder to bring you closer to your peak.

A guttural groan comes from deep in Choso’s chest as he hooks an arm beneath your thigh and puts your leg over his shoulder and you gasp because now he’s somehow even deeper. His tongue teases at your entrance and you feel yourself clench around nothing, the light taps against your hole prompting it to seek for something to enter. Choso hums, the vibrations running straight through to your clit and you whimper softly.

His tongue is incredible, skilled as it runs flat across your cunt and sends shivers up your spine every time it rubs the bundle of nerves. Your mind is working overtime trying to keep up with your body. Every lick and smack of Choso’s mouth against you has your skin tingling.

Choso is attentive, carefully finding what spots make your breath hitch and staying there until you’re crying out his name. He wants to make a mess of you before the night is over and he’s going to be sure to do it. And by the way your back arches against the door, and your hands pull at his hair, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to take much anyway.

He pushes further into your pussy, seeking better access while his hands hold your ass.

“Fuck, fuck,” You gasp when Choso sucks hard on your clit just before he flicks that tongue of his over it.

“Shit,” Choso groans into your core. “Taste so…” he drags his tongue through your folds. “...fucking sweet, baby.” Choso’s cock is throbbing between his legs. Your fucking scent, your fucking taste. He’s so drunk on you. He never wants to stop devouring you.

You’re panting above him, soft moans rushing past your lips as your legs start to shake around Choso’s head. And while he doesn’t want you to cum yet, he wants to taste your release on his tongue again. Then he wants to feel your body wrapped around him when you cum again while he’s buried deep inside of you.

With his free hand, Choso runs his index finger between your folds, gathering your slick before he stops right above your hole. He teases at your entrance, reveling in the way you tug at his hair impatiently. You so clearly want him to fill you, stretch your walls in any way possible. He’s happy to oblige. He glances up to see you staring down at him again, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as your chest heaves. Your breaths come harshly. You look so beautiful, so ready to be fucked, so ready to be his.

He keeps his gaze on yours as he presses his finger forward, dick pulsing when your walls clench down on his thick finger immediately. God, he wants to feel you around him so badly. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Choso pushes into you until he’s knuckle deep. He’s grateful he’s been eating you out, the wetness adding to the ease in which he’s able to slip in.

“You’re so fucking tight. So tight, love,” he grits out, being met with a loud moan in response to his new pet name for you. Choso pulls his finger back, slowly pushing it back in and your grip on his hair tightens, making him increase the pace in which he fucks you with his finger. His mouth latches back onto you.

“M-more, baby,” you beg. “I need more.”

“Mmm,” Choso hums into you as he slips a second finger into your dripping cunt.

It’s like music to his ears. The way you cry out his name, the deliciously lewd squelch when you grind yourself against his hand, the slurping sounds from his mouth as he devours you.

You don’t want him to stop, don’t want this to be over, but you’re rapidly approaching your climax. And as much as you’re loving this feeling, you know you don’t have much longer until you reach your peak. Because the way Choso’s tongue runs over your heat, how his fingers somehow find the exact spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, how your heart races when you look down and see Choso staring back up at you, eyes full of all his desire for you, it’s enough to send you over the edge.

And it does, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm crashes over you without warning. You feel Choso’s free hand grip your thigh to keep you steady. It’s so intense, you don’t even realize you’ve bent forward, clutching desperately onto Choso’s shoulders. It’s so intense, you can’t even hear the garbled cry of Choso’s name leaving your lips over and over. All you can see is white behind your eyelids as you ride Choso’s fingers and tongue through absolute ecstasy.

When you straighten back up, Choso pulls back from your core, lazily pumping his fingers into you. You’re still squeezing down on him, so tight even as you’re catching your breath. And he wants to give you a moment to breathe, but there’s this primal part of him whose patience is wearing thin.

So he stands, pulling his fingers from inside of you, crashing his lips into yours and swallowing your whimpers. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue as he tangles the muscle with yours. The kiss is sloppy, a mix of both your saliva and release.

And it’s intoxicating.

It sets you right back at square one, a messy puddle with arousal dripping between your thighs.

All for Choso.

He places his hands beneath your thighs. Gently, he lifts you, carrying you to his bed where he lays you down on your back. Choso slowly crawls along your body, a hand coming up to brush his knuckles across your cheek. His eyes stare softly into yours, silently asking for your consent. Because he’s ready to take that next step if you are. To solidify what Choso intends to be a full on committed relationship.

And you nod, because you believe him. Because you trust him. With your body, but mostly importantly, with your heart.

“I’m going to take good care of you,” Choso promises, still gazing into your eyes before kissing you tenderly. “I’m never going to give you a reason to doubt me. Never going to break your heart.”

“I know,” you tell him. “I won’t ever break yours again.”

It’s a promise you intend to keep.

You cup your hand to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and bring him down for another kiss. Choso groans softly into your mouth and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue into his. Your tongues dance together as Choso slips his hand down the hem of your shirt and under, his fingers ghosting back up to your breasts.

A quiet gasp interrupts the kiss as Choso’s long fingers find your nipple, taking the soft bud and rolling it between his thumb and his index finger. He pulls back slightly, watching intently as your expression beneath him changes from tender and adoring to lustful, raw with desire as you arch your back to push your breast further into his touch.

Choso has seen this look on your face less than a handful of times. And each time, the look shoots straight to his dick. He releases you for the briefest of seconds before he’s reaching down to hurriedly lift your shirt over your head. He tosses your top to the floor, doing the same with his own shirt right after.

His eyes rake over you and your breasts, drinking in the way your nipples seem to further harden the longer he stares.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells you, now that he can see you in all your nude glory. Just perfection.

Choso dips down to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts before taking your right nipple in his mouth. With his free hand, he takes hold of your other breast, caressing gently as his tongue rolls over your nipple. He tries not to smirk too hard when your hands find their way into his hair again, which Choso is beginning to find to be his favorite part of making you come undone. He loves the feeling of you trying your damnedest to bring him impossibly closer to you.

Your head lolls back, Choso’s tongue flicking over your hardened bud only serving to intensify the pleasure already building up in your core again. At this point, there’s a nagging worry in the back of your head that you’re absolutely soaking Choso’s sheets with your arousal. But you can’t bring yourself to care when Choso releases your nipple from his mouth with an obnoxiously wet pop.

He adjusts himself between your thighs, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, along your jaw and back to your lips. You feel him roll his hips forward, his own arousal evident between you. A gasp rushes past your lips when you feel his hard erection pressing insistently against your center, hot, heavy and pulsing. It leaves you breathless.

“You like that?” Choso questions, grinding his hips into yours once again and only receiving your moan in response. “Like feeling how hard you make me?” He dips down to place a kiss beneath your jaw. “Do you?”

Another grind of his hips. And you’re sure you could cum just like this.

“God, yes,” you whine quietly. “I love feeling how hard I make you, baby.”

Choso groans, rolling his hips forward another time, please with your answer. You can feel the smirk on his lips when your grip in his hair tightens as you moan.

“Wanna feel you, Choso,” you whimper. “Please.”

And it’s all Choso needs to hear before he’s lifting his hips, pushing his pants down and kicking them off to the floor in what feels like one swift motion. You spread your legs wider for him, giving him room to fully settle back in. The feeling of his bare cock resting between your slick folds has you both shivering with pleasure.

“This okay?” He asks through gritted teeth. Because of course he does. He never wants you to be uncomfortable.

“It’s so good.”

Choso’s lips find yours and he kisses you hungrily. It feels like hours of you both making out, tongues tangling as you adjust to finally being a step closer to fully having each other.

But when your hands, already buried in Choso’s locks, tug just right, he can’t help the pathetic whine that falls from his lips. Nor can he help the way his hips stutter. And neither of you can help the loud moans that come when Choso’s length slides along your soaking pussy.

“Ah…” You hear Choso exhale shakily above you, jaw taut. You can feel his thighs trembling slightly between your legs, like he’s trying to resist moving.

But you want him to move. So you pull him down to you, crushing your lips to his as you move your hips, grinding his length between you. The ridges of his cock drag deliciously over your clit. You press your hips into Choso’s again and again. You don’t want to stop. And neither does Choso apparently, because he begins to meet every roll of your hips with his own until it’s just the both of you exchanging moans between you as you grind against each other.

“Fuck, babe. So damn wet,” Choso grunts.

“Just for you, Choso. You make me feel so good,” You kiss him sweetly, swallowing his whimper when you praise him.

He keeps fucking himself against you, pulling away from the kiss to hide his face in the crook of your neck.

The heat from your pussy engulfs his cock. And it’s dizzying. He wants to be inside of you, but he can’t seem to pull himself away from just the sensation of your sopping cunt slipping and sliding against him. It feels too amazing. So good, Choso’s afraid he’s not going to last much longer here.

He’s desperate for you, has been desperate for you for some time. And the buildup that he’s had to endure in the span of having his face buried between your thighs, swallowing every drop of your cum and now losing himself to your pussy before even getting to be inside of it has him ready to explode.

It’s almost embarrassing to ask, but he wants to do this with you. If you agree, of course. So before he loses himself, even as the heat rushes to his cheeks and the coil in his groin tightens and threatens to snap, he whimpers out a quiet, “are you on birth control?”

You almost miss it, because your brain is frazzled, overstimulated because you’ve only just recovered from your last release and your next is coming up quickly. But you still hear it.

“Y-yes,” you answer, moaning when you feel Choso’s cock throb between your legs. And he’s thrusting against you just a little faster now, breaths quickening.

“I need to cum in you,” Choso grits between thrusts. “Need to fill you up with me. Need to make you mine.”

Your eyes widen, not because you're offended or surprised at how blunt he's being. Choso has never been anything but honest. You’re more surprised at the immediate flood of arousal that's just seeped between you both, only making more of a mess because of the way he's speaking to you. Your moans only spur Choso on, your core tightening because this new possessiveness Choso has been revealing tonight turns you on to no end.

“Yes. God, please.” You hear his breath hitch against your skin when you moan your response.. “I want your cum, please. Fill me up, Choso.”

“Yeah, baby?” Choso hisses against your skin. “Want me to?”

“Please, please. Gimme your cum, Choso, please. I want it.”

Choso digs his hips into yours roughly, the pressure to your already sensitive nub suddenly pushing you over the edge sooner than you thought. Your cry echoes throughout Choso’s room as your legs wrap around his waist, squeezing shakily as your orgasm rips through you once more.

And Choso is still fucking himself against you, loving the way your pussy is practically screaming for something to fill it. And when the sudden feeling of his own release shoots up his spine in a rush, Choso is happy to do so. You need no time to adjust, Choso dipping a hand between you and guiding his tip to your entrance. He pushes his entire length in, bottoming out easily and groaning hoarsely when your sweet, slick walls wrap around him, convulsing hard. You feel better than he imagined. So hot, so tight, so wet.

Choso rears his hips back, then rolls them forward again, sinking into you, slowly, and your body's reaction is immediate. Goosebumps ignite along your skin. Your heart races and your breath hitches as you savor the incredible feeling of every ridge and vein stroking along your walls, every pulse of his length as you take more of him, stuffing you so full you can hardly breathe. You writhe beneath Choso, moaning when Choso pulls his hips back once more before he’s wasting no time slamming into you frantically as he chases his high.

“Gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum, baby,” he grunts, balls slapping messily against your ass. “Need to fill this pussy. Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Shit.”

You’ve never seen this side of Choso before. It’s a new feeling to him, too. Choso is certain he’s never felt this way about anyone else before. But he can’t help it. He feels some primal need to suddenly claim you now. Because he has to. Because he can.

He wants to be sure that everyone knows you’re his.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” Choso begs. Because even he’s still having a hard time believing it. He’s got his head between your breasts now, pounding into you desperately. “P– please. Say it, baby. Tell me you’re mine.”

Your back arches, hands leaving Choso’s hair to grip at his sheets when the tip of his cock taps your sweet spot. It almost makes you cum all over again.

“Oh my god,” you gasp as your eyes roll back. “F–fuck!” You can barely form a thought with the way Choso splits you open. “I’m…ah– I’m yours, baby. Only yours.”

It’s exactly what he needs to hear. Every rough drive of Choso’s hips has you crying out for him, has you clenching down on him so hard that it’s impossible for Choso to not be overcome with the sensation of his climax violently washing over him. His mouth falls open, loud groans mixing with your cries as he bottoms out once more, pushing himself as deep as he can go before he’s spilling into you, pumping you so full of his seed that he’s sure it’s dripping onto his sheets. But he can’t be bothered to care. Not when your pussy hugs his cock so tight, milks him for all he’s worth.

Choso kisses between your breasts, up your chest, your neck, all the way up until he reaches your lips. His dick twitches with every spurt of his cum. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop. Even as you both catch your breath, and he’s quietly moaning sweet words to you, he can still feel himself pulsing with the shockwaves of his release.

He kisses a trail down to what he’s now discovered may be his new favorite spot – the crook of your neck – and moans lowly against you, still fucking into you slowly, draining himself of everything he has to offer. “God, your pussy is so perfect. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Choso breathes.

You laugh weakly, unable to do anything but attempt to catch your breath. Your chest rapidly rises and falls as you come down from your second release. Choso presses one last kiss to your neck as he pulls his finally softening length from you with a hiss. He climbs off of you, laying on your side and pulling you into his arms where he buries his nose in your hair.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, almost like he’s embarrassed about the way he acted a few moments ago.

You wrap an arm around him, hand finding his back and rubbing light circles. “I’m great.” You gaze up at the man, and he gazes back down at you, a small smirk curling on one side of his lips. You stay like that for a long while, your feelings for each other, and all the words left unspoken finally being seen in each other’s eyes.

It’s Choso who breaks the silence.

“We should shower,” he suggests. He knows there’s a mess to be taken care of before either of you can relax comfortably. “I’ll start it and get this cleaned up.”

You nod, glad you thought to grab a bag before coming over. It’s easy to agree to a shower when you’ve got everything you need right here. You reluctantly pull yourself from Choso’s embrace. You sit up, about to get up to go find where you’d tossed your things when you’d fumbled in together, but you feel Choso’s large hand grab your wrist.

“Hey…” he calls to you.

You turn back to him, brows arched in surprise. “Yes?”

But Choso doesn’t say anything. He just…stares at you. And there’s a tenderness in his eyes that you’re certain you’ve seen before. It’s the same look he had when he met you at the park earlier that night, like he wants to say something, but can’t bring himself to just yet.

Instead, he sits up, presses one last soft peck to your lips. And then he’s out of bed, in the bathroom before you can blink and running a shower for you.

- - - - - -

After your showers, you and Choso lay in each other’s arms in his now clean bed. Choso hasn’t let you go since you’d crawled under the covers. It’s cute, the way he clings onto you like you’ll disappear if he loosens his grip for even a second. But you’re not going anywhere anymore. You’re content here, where you were always meant to be it seems.

“When do you go back to work?” Choso questions suddenly. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice. You know he must be tired. It’s the late hours of the night now, and the next day is slowly creeping in.

“I’ll be off next week and then I’ll go back.”

“So you can spend the week with me, then.” It’s not really a suggestion. Choso says it as if he’s noting that you’ll be with him for the week.

You giggle, and Choso snuggles even closer to you if that were possible. “Oh yeah? What are we going to be doing?”

Choso hums in thought. “I have a competition a few cities away. You could come with me.” You try not to be too surprised by this offer. Because you’ve never received it before. And it’s nice to finally get it. Choso’s hand holds the back of your neck, thumb slowly stroking back and forth along your skin. “I’ll only be there for a couple of days. You can come with me, watch me skate without the looming pressure of getting a good shot. We’ll hang out and come back.” He presses a small kiss to your forehead. “Like a long date sort of thing.”

You think about Yaga’s advice to take the next week off and get your shit together. Breaking things off with Suguru for good was the first step, and you and Choso just spent the entire night taking your relationship to the next level. Now he’s asking you if you want to spend more time taking things further. It’s a no brainer for you.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

- - - - - -

After your night with Choso, you’d spent the week with him as planned. You turned your phone off, resisting the temptation to check on work or see what your friends may be up to. You wanted to be fully focused on Choso and your new relationship. And you were glad you did. It gave you two a chance to truly spend uninterrupted time with only each other.

Choso had won his competition, of course, and despite the little promise you made to leave your camera at home, you couldn’t resist turning your phone back on for a few minutes while he skated. You couldn’t help it. You loved your job, you loved being behind the camera. And there was something just so majestic about the way Choso skated. It would be such a shame to not capture those moments. And surprisingly, you’d managed to get some incredible shots of him on your phone, which you promptly set as your screensaver.

Admittedly, you loved the way Choso’s ears practically glowed bright red when you showed him your screen.

But the week came and went in a rush and now you’re back at work. You thought your return would be awkward, your team having not seen you since the incident at the cover shoot. And yet, everyone was warm and welcoming upon your return. Funnily enough, quite a few of your team members had stopped you in the halls to quietly thank you. For what, you’re not sure, but you guessed it may have something to do with giving them front row seats to watch Naoya Zenin get pummeled.

You made a mental note to pass their thanks along to Choso, who shyly admitted to you one day that he loved the feeling of knocking him on his ass.

It was about three weeks after your return to work that the higher ups switched up your routine. You went from taking on assignments for the skating department of the magazine to researching up and coming athletes for a new department that was being built. This meant you were busier now than ever. It also meant you were traveling more. It started as small trips. You were never gone for more than a day and you’d be back at Choso’s as soon as you were in town again. But the constant travel still meant seeing less of your boyfriend. Thankfully, he was understanding of this. Work came first, but you still felt guilty.

Just when things were starting to become stable between the two of you, work soon became the new third wheel. But you both made it work. When you traveled, it was Choso dropping you off at the airport. And it was Choso picking you up from the airport. You talked so often that you never truly felt like you were away from him.

Until now.

The higher ups set their sights on a new, rising talent and apparently, it had to be you out there getting the winning shot. So they’d sent you out of town. Well, out of the country. Apparently, it's the peak of the season right now and with so many other talents popping up around the world, your higher ups are eager to be the first to capture this particular talent in action.

So here you are, outside of the country, posted up in some fancy hotel room by the beach. It’s pitch black outside, but you can still just barely make out the ripples of the waves on the dark, moonlit water. It’s the reason you’re here, and the reason there’s a rush to get this new department up and running back home. Your higher ups want to start honing in on the surf world the talented athletes, and they are hoping you can be the one to capture the perfect photo for their next cover to introduce the surf segment.

There's a surf competition tomorrow that will be happening midday, but if surfers are anything like skaters, you want to be there in the early hours of the morning. Thanks to the hotel staff, who are local to the area and some even involved in the surf scene here, you had a lead on your target. And if your sources were correct, the person you were hoping to capture in action before the crowd arrived would be there. After much research, you'd discovered the best time to get in the water was right around sunrise, so you planned on trying to beat the crowd.

But for now, you find yourself on your phone on a video call with Choso. Freshly out of the shower, you throw yourself down face first onto your hotel bed. The sheets feel like a warm hug, reminding you of Choso. So soft, so comfortable, and you feel the jetlag begin to seep into your bones. You may even fall asleep like this. Who cares if you're still in your robe?

"Oh my god, this feels like a cloud," you groan into the blankets. Choso's deep chuckle reverberates through the phone and fills the space in your lonely room, fills the space in your once lonely heart and you can't help the goofy grin on your face now.

You miss him.

"Should I be jealous?" Choso jokes, watching as you prop your phone up next to your bed before getting comfortable and snuggling beneath the blankets. "You never cuddle with me like that." He pokes his bottom lip out in a cute pout and your heart leaps. Choso has really started showing his sense of humor. It’s adorable.

You roll your eyes playfully, grinning. "That's hilarious seeing as how you always want to be the little spoon in this relationship. I'm almost never not cuddling you."

To this, Choso shrugs, still laughing when he mutters, "Well, maybe when you get back you can hold me the same way you apparently hold hotel duvets."

"And how is that?"

"Like you lov–" He cuts himself off, lips pursing like he just caught himself about to say something he shouldn’t. But you're not stupid. You know exactly where that was headed. And you’d be lying if you said that word didn’t try to claw its way up your throat on occasion.

But you're not sure if now is the right time. Things are still so new with Choso, so fresh. Because while you've been with each other for awhile now, there's always been one other person lingering. Now that they're gone, it's a fresh start on the story that is just you and Choso. This time around you're not going to fuck it up.

You can't rush to say those words. They need to come when the time is right.

"I miss you so much," Choso breathes quietly on the other side of the phone. He's looking away from the camera and you notice now that he's also propped his phone up next to his bed. He's in a black tank top and pajama pants, sitting up against his headboard. You can just make out that the sun is beginning to peek through his curtains. Suddenly you're reminded of your time difference. While the stars paint the deep blue of the night sky for you, they fade away for Choso as the sun rises.

"I miss you, too, babe."

So bad it hurts.

“When do you come back?”

You sit up in the bed, propping yourself up against the headboard to match Choso’s posture. “In a few days. I’m kind of following this guy through the next few towns to try and get the perfect picture. The sun was already setting when I got to the hotel, so I didn’t have time to check out the beach and find where the best shot would be. I’m hoping he’ll be out there during the sunrise tomorrow.”

Choso nods quietly, eyeing you through the camera. “Watching the sunrise with another man? Romantic.”

You roll your eyes at his little joke. “Jealous?”

He nods immediately. “Of course I am. You’ll be at the beach, watching the sunrise with someone who isn't me, your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the word. You know it’s not coming from a place of true jealousy. He simply loves bringing up the fact that there’s no other man as important as him in your life anymore. Another little sign of possessiveness Choso shows now that you actually really like and find to be very sexy.

If you were with him, you would have crawled into his lap and shown him there was absolutely nothing to be jealous of. Instead, you pout. Because you hate that he’s so close, and still out of your reach. You want to be able to touch him, kiss him, please him.

And then a little lightbulb is going off in your head, an idea forming. You shift around, smirking when your robe loosens and the shoulder droops down, exposing your collarbone and Choso’s favorite little hiding spot. The one place he loves to bury his face in aside from between your thighs.

You watch as his gaze drifts down to your skin and he inhales sharply. One thing about Choso is that on the night you’d made things official and he told you he would never get enough of you, he meant it. Just like he meant everything he’d ever told you. Choso was insatiable, always hungry for you. There was hardly a day when you were in each other’s presence that you didn’t somehow end up tangled in the sheets, hidden away in the bathroom or whatever dark room you could find where you could completely devour each other. All of this time spent apart between both of your travels must have been eating away at him. It was definitely taking its toll on you.

“I really miss you,” Choso repeats. His eyes are still stuck on your bare shoulder, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Wish I was there with you.”

You hum, gripping the fabric of your robe and sliding it back up to cover your shoulder, grinning when you hear Choso huff. It’s fun to get a rise out of him sometimes. You slide the robe down again, just a little further, a little wider so that more of your chest is exposed. “I wish you were here with me, too, babe.”

You see Choso shift, a hand coming down to palm at his crotch and you can just barely make out the outline of his erection beginning to form beneath the thin fabric of his pajamas. You watch, almost in a trance as he adjusts the bulge in his pants. So unashamed, not even trying to hide the fact that simply seeing your shoulder has him hard. And seeing the effect you have on him makes your own body react, makes your breath hitch your core throb.

“I wanna see you,” Choso states. His eyes settle on the swell of your breasts. You hadn’t even noticed that your robe had begun to slip further.

Your fingers deftly undo the knot that holds your robe together and you let it fall from your shoulders, leaving your nude form fully exposed for Choso. Your boyfriend licks his lips, fist now gripping his fully erect cock through his pants, stroking slowly over the fabric as his eyes rake over you.

You suddenly feel shy, awkward. It’s just you here even though Choso is on the other end of the line. It doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re alone in this room, sitting naked on the phone. You feel a little silly doing this. You reach for your robe again, but freeze when you hear Choso’s voice come from the device, a rough “Don’t” stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes follow his movements when he reaches to pull his shirt over his head. Then he lifts his hips, hands tugging his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, already glistening with precum. Now you’re licking your lips, wishing so badly that you were there to take his pretty, tan cock down your throat just the way he likes.

“Baby…” Choso moans as he wraps his hand around his dick.

“What do you want me to do?” You ask, breathily. You can feel your center wet with your arousal as your eyes lock onto Choso’s motions.

“Touch your tits for me.”

You do as you’re told immediately, sliding your hands up to your chest, teasing yourself while Choso watches you. Cupping your breasts, you whimper as you run your fingers over your hardening nipples. You roll the sensitive buds between your fingers, pinching them gently, moaning in response to the grunt you hear from Choso on the other end.

“Feel good, baby?” He asks. Through drooping eyelids, you can see him lean forward slightly in bed just before he spits on the tip of his cock and uses his hand to spread the slick fluid. His head falls back against his headboard as he groans. Then his eyes are back on you through the screen, hot and filled with desire. “Does it?” He asks again.

“Ahh…yes,” you sigh, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches against your headboard as you imagine it’s Choso who is touching you, caressing you, squeezing you like this. You want him to be here, pleasuring you like this. The thought alone has more arousal dripping from your cunt and you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

“Fuck– so damn beautiful.” Choso’s hips buck up into his fist, mouth slightly agape while he watches you tease yourself. “Open your legs, baby. Let me see you play with that pretty pussy.”

“I wish I could touch you,” You whine as you spread your legs for him. “I wish you could touch me.” Choso’s stare follows your hand as it slides between your thighs. He bites his lip, gaze stuck on the way your fingers spread your glistening folds and find your clit, gently rubbing the little nub and he tightens his grip as he pumps his hand up and down his length. Your eyes flutter closed as you pleasure yourself.

“Doing s-so good, baby,” Choso praises you through gritted teeth, stroking himself slowly. “So pretty. So…ah…so perfect like this.” He brings his free hand down to his balls, gripping the two orbs in his palm and gently squeezing. “Watch me.”

And you do, knowing that there’s just something so fucking arousing about what you’re doing right now that you don’t stand a chance of lasting much longer. You watch as Choso spits messily on his cock again. You watch as he strokes himself faster. You watch as his face scrunches with pleasure and how that tattooed line across his face crinkles every time he squeezes his eyes shut to focus on staving off his release when he gets too close.

“So hot,” you tell him. “I want your cock so bad, baby.”

“It’s yours,” Choso groans, hands tugging at his balls. “Fuuuck, it’s yours any fucking time you want it.”

Your pussy is soaked, begging for Choso to fill it. You moan as you play with yourself, your other hand coming down to rub light circles around your entrance. And you can feel how tight of a fit it will be even with your own fingers because you so desperately clench with need for Choso.

On the other end of the line, you see the thin line of precum dripping from Choso’s tip and onto his hard abdomen. Every thick vein running along his cock has your mouth watering. God, he’s gorgeous, losing himself to you by just watching you lose yourself to him. The image is so sexy, you want to burn it into your mind so you never forget it.

“Use your fingers,” Choso pants, moans and whimpers falling freely from his lips now. You love it when he becomes a whiny mess like this.

Hurriedly, you bring two fingers to your lips and slip them into your mouth. You suck your fingers, getting them nice and wet. Then you bring them back down to your entrance, the earlier wetness helping when you push your fingers in. You clench around the digits immediately and your eyes close for just a moment.

“Watch me.”

You remember Choso’s earlier request and you open your eyes to find Choso staring back at you. Jaw clenched, nostrils flared. His chest rises and falls with every harsh breath as he fucks himself into his fist. And now you’re a writhing mess, knuckles deep in your own cunt, trying to hide the way your thighs are twitching and how your head is spinning with each movement through your walls.

“Can’t wait to see you,” you tell Choso who can only reply with a low groan.

You’re so close to your end. You feel your thighs trembling with every pump of your fingers, with every tight circle rubbed along your clit. Your fingers just feel too good. Especially when Choso is encouraging you on the other end of the phone, and getting off to you at the same time..

Choso doesn’t seem to be much better off. He’s got his head back against his headboard, hips moving frantically while he drinks in the way you moan for him.

“God, I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy of yours so good when you come back home to me.”

It’s a promise from him. Because Choso never says anything to you that he doesn’t mean.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask, curling your fingers in your walls to find the spot that takes you over the edge. A quiet gasp rushing past your lips when you reach it, legs quivering at the incredible sensation.

“Fuck yeah.” Choso’s breathing turns ragged, hips slamming into his fist. “Gonna fuck your –” He pumps himself faster, squeezes his balls harder, brows knitting together as his hips come up. “shit…gonna…ah– fucking…shit–” He doesn’t get to finish his thought, hands gripping his balls as they tighten, and he paints his abdomen with thick ropes of cum. The moan that leaves Choso is low, guttural, arousing.

And as you watch Choso’s cum leave his tip and land on his bare skin with a loud slap, you’re sent to your own peak, walls clamping down on your fingers and convulsing as your orgasm takes over. Your eyes roll back, spine arching away from the headboard and it takes everything to not close your legs and stop. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, the intensity of your release making you cry out for your boyfriend.

He’s watching you as you cum, slowly stroking his softening cock while he tries to catch his breath. And he’s never looked more beautiful. Cheeks dusted a rosy pink, chest flushed with a sheen of sweat, loose hair sticking to his forehead.

He’s perfect.

He’s yours.

- - - - - -

In the morning, the chilly ocean breeze greets you. The earliest rays of sunlight are just beginning to peek above the horizon. The waters are fairly calm right now. Not at all what you were expecting. And it makes you a little uneasy. It almost feels like something is waiting just around the corner for you. You’re not sure if you should be worried.

But you don’t have time to give to this feeling.. Not when your eyes land on your target, right where you’d been told he would be. He fits the description you were given to a tee – tall, deep tan skin with what appeared to be purple hair braided back into cornrows. He doesn’t have the look of a typical surfer.

No wetsuit, but instead baggy shorts and a baggy t-shirt, which you weren’t sure would hold up well in the water. Perhaps he only wore it when practicing. But what would you know? Your speciality is skateboarding.

He hasn’t seen you yet. His eyes are glued to the small waves of the water while his board lies discarded next to him. You’re thankful he hasn’t seen you. You’d hate to get an earful this early in the morning if he sees you skulking around. From what you’ve heard, the man is a bit elusive and not a huge fan of getting his picture taken. Which only made him all the more appealing for your company. They were desperate to get this guy featured on the cover.

You take a few steps towards the stranger before you feel your phone buzzing incessantly in your pocket. You couldn’t be more grateful that the gentle roar of the water covers the sound. Quickly, you fish your phone out and check your messages. The most important one lies at the top.

Yaga: Check your email for the next assignment ASAP. Big event for your department, so I’m trusting you with this one.

Yaga: Don’t make me regret it.

Your thumb swipes through your apps until you find your email. You open the body of the email to find the details Yaga was telling you to review. The competition header is the first thing you lay eyes on:

TOKYO SKATE LEAGUE COMPETITION OF THE SEASON

Okay, so it’s for a skate competition taking place in a couple of weeks. You don’t pay it much mind. It’s the list of competitors that catch your eye.

Choso Kamo

Momo Nishimiya

Naoya Zenin

Suguru Geto

Noritoshi Kamo

Junpei Yoshino

There are other competitors on the list, but you’re not familiar with them.

Competition summary: Individual skaters will go head to head in a tournament style competition with scores being graded by judges. The last one standing will receive a five year contract with the sports magazine of their choosing.

You wonder if Choso has seen this list. You’re sure he has. He’s a part of it, so he would have had to sign up to enter. But, your stomach twists. It feels like the photoshoot all over again. No wonder Yaga gave you that warning in his text. No wonder something felt off today. No wonder the sea was so calm this morning. The storm had yet to come.

You inhale deeply, making a mental note to call Choso later about this.

Then you see movement from the corner of your eye, your target moving to pick up his board and leave towards the other end of the beach. So much for your plan of quietly sneaking up and talking with him. You rush forward, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you call after him.

“Excuse me! Mr. Hakari!”

And in your hurry to catch the man, you miss the new text message coming in.

Unknown Number: Looks like I’ll be seeing you and your boyfriend soon. Looking forward to wiping the floor with pigtails

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