#because drew just so happened to die the night before

[cornertheculprit]

i think i've managed to wrap my head around how the mason system functions which is an accomplishment in and of itself

[satorusugurugurl]

Buzzed

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t drink. He’s a lightweight, never saw the appeal, and, well, it makes him horny.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Whiny super whiny Gojo, handjob, public play, Gojo is just buzzed, not drunk consent is key, there are several reasons he doesn't like alcohol

Word Count: 2,307

A/N: this popped into my head at work. The need for Gojo to whimper and whine is intense.

Gojo didn't drink. He had nothing against people who liked to drink; by all means, to each their own. He never liked the taste; he was a lightweight, and he'd rather spend his money on sweets. There, however, was another reason he didn't drink. One that was far too embarrassing to mention.

Whenever Satoru would drink, he'd get horny, like super horny.

So, it was safer for him to avoid alcohol altogether, which was pretty easy. That was until you both went to one of your co-workers' birthday party. You casually conversed with some friends while Gojo headed into the kitchen. He was in search of cake, but he found punch instead. He filled his glass, tentatively giving it a sip.

It didn't taste like there was alcohol in it, so he drank a full red solo cup. And he was working on his third in the living room when he felt like his blood was on fire. The room was hot, sweltering, and you, god, you looked even hotter. The tight-fitted shirt you wore emphasized the curves of your perfect body and breasts. Your ass looked amazing in your jeans, and your smile was to die for. God, why did you look like a goddess tonight?

There was a certain glow about you that drew him in like a moth to a light. He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder, his body pressed firmly against your backside. Not only did you look good, but you smelt fucking delectable.

You turned your head, kissing his cheek before turning back to your friends, joining in with their conversation, leaning back into Satoru when you both felt it. The huge and very hard bulge in his pants had you choking on your words as Satoru straightened, glancing at you in sheer panic.

“Toru?” He grimaced at the tone of your voice. “Please tell me that's your phone.”

“It’s not,” he confirmed your fear.

“Can you get outside to the balcony?” A glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was remotely close to his sanctuary.

“Yeah.” His voice was so gravely as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Good, go on. I'll be out in a sec.”

The second Gojo stepped into the cool night air, he groaned, looking down at his pants. What the fuck? Why was he sporting the world's biggest boner of all time? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He slowly sank into the dark corner, resting his back against the window where the curtain was still drawn, waiting for you to join him.

A second later, the sliding glass door opened and shut. Gojo’s hands flew towards his crotch, shielding his erection from any prying eyes. When he saw you turn the corner, he released the breath he'd been holding, dropping his hands to his sides. Satoru shut his eyes tight, biting back a pained whine. All you could do was knit your eyebrows together as you watched.

“Satoru? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nngh, fuck, I don't know.” His cock throbbed hard at the sound of your voice. “I'm so goddamn hard.”

“Aren't you always hard?” The teasing tone in your voice attempted to lighten the mood.

“Yes, but your point is irrelevant. Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I only get surprise boners like this when I drink!”

Satoru was panting as you tilted your head slightly to the side. “But you did. Mina’s punch has a fuck-ton of alcohol in it.” Your boyfriend's face was contorted in pained pleasure and confusion. “People can’t taste the alcohol because of the liter of Lemon-Lime soda and the whole ass pint of sherbet.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Glancing back down at his erection, he sighed in frustration. “I-It’s going to be awhile for this bitch to go down. I’ll stay out here; you go inside and enjoy the party.”

Right now, in this embarrassing moment, Satoru could barely look at you. During the entirety of your relations, Gojo never drank, leaving that up to you if you were in the mood. You understood he particularly wasn’t too keen on drinking; it was his personal preference. Seeing him now, sulking in a corner, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing. It made a little more sense.

Laughter and loud music blared inside the apartment, drawing your attention to the door. Mina’s special punch was getting to everyone, it seemed like. They were so immersed in their current conversations and food would they even notice your absence?

Satoru was in physical pain. His teeth were clenched as he hissed out in frustration. You took notice of his hands, how they twitched, drawing closer to his crotch before pulling away. The man was fighting against every instinct in his buzzed horny brain. You could tell by his expression that he wanted to do nothing more than stroke his fat cock until he came all over his fist. Satoru, however, was also one not to let his lust overtake him.

He wasn’t some horny freak that would pull his dick out and stroke it until he jizzed all over your friend's balcony railing. You, however, weren’t as collected as he was. Seeing your boyfriend's cock twitching in his pants, the tiny wet spot forming over his leaking tip, made you fucking feral.

“I don’t want to go back.” Closing the distance between you, Gojo watched with bated breath as your pretty hands unbuttoned his pants.

“Tsk!” Your boyfriend hissed, crystal blue eyes darting towards the door. “Y-Y/N, what if someone comes out?!”

“I guess you’ll need to stay quiet. That way, if someone does come.” You whispered, your fingers slowly tugging his zipped down. “Can you do that for me?”

Satoru didn’t have time to think of a response because his dick did all the talking for him. It throbbed hard in the confines of his boxers. He whined and watched more pre-cum seep through the fabric of his boxers.

You cooed, running the bed of your thumb over the growing wet spot. “I’ll take that as a yes?” A nod and a tiny whimper was all you needed.

Slowly, you slid your hand down the band of his boxers, immediately coming into contact with his hot cock. His velvety shaft twitched as you tugged his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The tip was a furiously red shade; his slit dribbled pre-cum. Seeing his fat cock this hard has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ahh, fuck, fuuuck,” Satoru whispered through a hiss as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You slowly stroked your hands up and down. Squeezing it, trying to mimic how your pussy would pulsate around him when he would fuck you. “Y-Y/N~”

Using his pre-cum as lube, you smeared it up and down his length. Watching the pretty tip twitch madly each time you collected your makeshift lubricant. Satoru groaned, eyes half-lidded, watching you, the way you shifted, pressing your thighs together, how you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it, as you jerked him off.

“I-I’m, haaa, I’m the one g-getting jerked off here. B-But you, holy fuck!” He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Your teasing jerks, changed, your wrist twisting with every move. “Nnngh, f-fuck but y-yo—ooooh shit, you're the one e-enjoying yourself.”

“Of course, I’m enjoying myself. Satoru, I love feeling your dick get hard in my hand. It's so fat, hot, god, it makes me wet.”

Satoru flushed, head tilting back, the veins in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw. He was the one that would normally talk to you like this. Having it turned the other way around, he had his head spinning. The dizziness was so intense your boyfriend tilted his head back before he began thrusting into your tight-fitted fist.

“Fuuck, Haa, ooh fuck sweetheart, feels so good.” you bit back a moan of your own, watching as he ducked your hands, stinks of pre-cum running over your fingers, as he slammed the palm of his Hans against the railing. “D-Dont stop baby~ fuck Y-Y/N don't fuckin’ stop.”

Watching him desperately fuck your hand was so fucking pretty. From the thin sheen of sweat on his beautiful face to the throbbing shaft in your hand, everything about Gojo had panties soaked. Right now, you wanted to drag him out of the cramped apartment and back to your place where you would fuck his brains out.

But getting him through the apartment right now was out of the question.to get what you wanted, you had to get him off first! The faster he came, the faster you'd get to have him inside of you.

“You're doing such a good job, Toru~” Your hand moved faster. “I love feeling your cock sliding into my hand. But I love it so much more when you’re sliding into me, stretching me with your cock.”

Satoru was a hundred present, certain you were responsible for his hot blood and the hazy gaze that lingered over his eyes. You were the source of his buzz, and it had him jerking like a virgin into your first. You tried matching his thrusts with your hand. The whines that left his mouth were all the confirmation you needed to know that it felt good.

“F-Feels so good.” Satoru cried out, head dipping down to watch you jerk him off. “Holy fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“Mmhm~ just think about how good my pussy will feel when I get you home.” A grunt sounded from him. “Yeah~ you like knowing that you’re going to fuck me when we get home~? You going to reward me for helping you~?”

“Y-Yes, p-please don’t stop Y/N, I can feel it coming. God, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Hearing the pleasure that paved his voice had you pressing your thighs together. “Yeah~ are you going to cum~? Do it; I want you to cum, baby~ I want you to feel so good~ Like the good you are.”

“Y/N?” Gojo jerked, his head searching for the source of your voice. “Hey, is Gojo okay?”

Without missing a beat, you pulled Satoru down with your free hand. Your hand pushed the back of his head into the crook of your neck. Gojo didn’t know what you were doing at first, but as your hand left to join the other stroking his throbbing cock, he picked up on what to do. He whimpered and moaned softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh yeah, he’s just a bit buzzed right now.” You stroked him harder, squeezing his shaft. “He doesn’t like drinking and thought the punch was safe.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His breathing whines were hot against your skin as his balls started to clench. He was so close to cumming, his eyes shutting tight, losing himself in the cooling sensation in his abdomen. So close, he was so close.

“Aww, poor guy, did you need anything?”

Gojo needed whoever the fuck this was to get out of here. He whined out your name into your neck. Hot breath having you shifting.”Y//N c-close.” He whispered as softly as he could as you jerked him faster, both hands working in tandem.

“Nope! We’ll be back inside in a second; I gotta get him home.”

“Okay!”

You waited until the door shut when you moaned with him. “Good boy, good boy~” his fingers dug into your back. “Go on, Toru~ cum for me~ give me it all.”

Satoru cried out into your neck in a nearly silent cry. “Y-/N oooh~ god fuck~ holy fuckin’ shit! C-Cummin’ I-I’m cumming.” You suddenly understood why he loved you, scratching up his back when you came around his cock. It felt good, so good, as he spurted thick ropes of cum all over your hand. “Nnngh oh fuck~! Fuck! Fuck!” His whines were shaky and nearly breathless as his cock weakly twitched in your hand. “Y-Y/NN~”

Gently you let go of his softening cock, bring your cum coated hand to your mouth. Satoru watched you closely, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He had half expectantly thought you were going to wipe his cup off on the inside of his jacket. What he hadn’t been anticipating was for you to flatten your tongue and lick it off. His sensitive cock twitched back to life at the lewd sight.

“Mmm~” You hummed in delight as if you just finished a meal. “So sweet and salty, Satoru~ I wanna taste it first hand when we get home.”

A switch flipped in Satoru’s head, be it post-nut clarity. He grabbed you by the face, turning you so you were pressed against the sliding glass door. The sudden flip had your breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend bent down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“The only one who is doing any sort of tasting when we get home will be me. If you don’t get us out of here fast, I’ll be sampling that soaking cunt right here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you dragged Satoru out of the party, shouting out brash goodbyes. Satoru might be buzzed from the punch. But you were buzzed off of him, and you needed to turn that buzz into a love-drunken affair.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 28] || [Chapter 30]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: they're very sick... poor babies

Chapter 29: Taking Turns

The next couple of days were rough. 

Between:

Kyle unable to bend down or stand straight for too long before his hip protested;

John unable to stretch himself in any direction due to his lower back hurting;

Johnny limping from his knee and with an arm on a sling;

and Simon having… not quite the flu but something? and getting dizziness spells every time he moved…

You haven’t gotten any proper rest either and have been running back and forth trying to help care for all of them.

They try their best to help, really… But the amount of groans, winces, and strained voices you hear whenever Kyle tries to make you all food, John tries to bend down to help with laundry, Simon tries to sweep, or Johnny tries to do anything two-handed… It’s hard.

Your flat suddenly feels too small for them, for you. 

Haven’t slept in your bed the whole weekend… But hey, at least you get to cuddle Simon all night every night. He’s like your own heater…

It comes to a head on Monday morning. You’ve gotta get to work… It hurts you to leave them like that, all alone, all day, in the state they’re in.

“So… there’s the spare key-” You handed the spare to John who had tried his best to be up with you for breakfast, leaning himself on the wall by the front door as you talk in hushed tones, Simon sleeping barely a couple feet away on the couch, actually getting rest.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine-”

“John…” You murmured as you looked up at him, your face showing nothing if not a deadpan inquiry. “You’re all dying.”

“We’re not dying. We were but we’re doing so much better after having you dote on us all weekend, darling.” He replied with a playful smile, which was cut through by a little wince that made his blue eyes press shut.

“Right.” You retorted and rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve gotten so much better, huh?” You taunted and shook your head.

“It’s fine… we’ve got… 3 or so functioning pairs of legs, 2 spines, 3 and a half pairs of arms and 3 working heads…” He trailed off, humourously listing the unaffected parts of their ailments.

“Ah yes… And somehow none of you are functional at all.” You teased again, smiling playfully, receiving a sigh and a conceding in the shape of an eye roll from him.

“Anyways,” You told him as you cupped his face. “You get back to bed… And try not to die, all of you. This flat isn’t mine, I don’t think you should die in here.” You added.

“Copy that.” John nodded with a chuckle which drew another wince from him. He kissed your forehead lightly then limped his way back to bed.

-

You had just gone on your lunch break when you shot the lads a message to check on their state:

you: how r u all doing? 👀

By the time you came back from lunch, you hadn’t gotten a reply to your text… And normally that wouldn’t worry you…

If it weren’t for the fact they’re bunked down in your flat because they’re all injured or sick.

You went back to work with your phone in your pocket, patiently waiting a text from them… 

you: pls tell me ur alive

Even with that message, it still took another hour and a half for an answer to come.

You were about to jump ship and go home early by then, when Johnny answered you.

Johnny: souo you: what? Johnny: soup Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

The video you got was not one you expected. 

Firstly, it was a very zoomed in 10 seconds of one of your metal pots with a heeping quantity of chicken noodle soup boiling in it.

Then, the camera panned over to display Kyle, John and Simon sprawled on the couch, head’s dangling back over the edge, snoring away.

“We made soup… bonnie.” Johnny said from behind the camera, his voice groggy and dragging, a consequence of the strong painkillers he had been taking for the last 3 days after his gunshot.

“Gonna have seconds… it’s so good…” He announced in a conspiratory tone and shushed the video before he finished the video.

How they managed to force themselves to stand up and stay awake long enough to cook a whole pot worth of soup, you have no idea. 

But, hey, at least they were alive. And that eased your worries.

And so, you got back to work, finishing your work day.

Coming back to work, you were surprised to find the flat in a similar state as when you left, which was surprising considering you expected a mess of dishes and food left for you to clean.

The boys had also moved from the couch and to the bedroom, their snores and heavy breaths coming from down the hall, as well as the sound of the shower running.

You closed the door carefully behind yourself, took off your shoes and padded over to the kitchen with the little shopping bag worth of things you bought after work.

Just as you’re about to start putting things in the fridge and cupboards, a figure show up at the kitchen door, making you jump a bit and huff a breath of surprise.

Turning to look at him, eyes wide and startled, you come face-to-face with a glistening wet Kyle wrapped in your last clean towel. There you go, needing to do more laundry again.

“Hi, Kyle… Didn’t hear you come in.” You admitted with a smile as you looked at him.

“Hey, lovie… How was work?” He murmured as he approached you and kissed you softly on the forehead. He certainly seemed a bit more mobile than yesterday when you put him to bed.

“It was good… I see you boys made yourselves right at home, huh?” You gestured vaguely to the pot of soup on the back of the stove, lidded to keep for later.

“Yeah… John had the idea… Sent Soap to the shops to get the chicken and the carrot and all…” He trailed off as he nuzzled himself against you, an arm wrapped around your waist as he rubbed his nose against the crown of your head.

“I see… He was able to carry everything one handed?” You asked playfully, earning a chuckle from Kyle. 

“Surprisingly yes…” He trailed off and smiled as he lowered his head to steal a soft peck from your lips.

“What about cooking? Who did that?” You asked playfully as you returned the kiss, then, slipped away from his arm wrapped around you. You resumed putting things away in the cupboards and fridge.

“We took turns…” Kyle admitted a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Every 10 minutes we’d switch spots with each other and sit on the couch…” He trailed off and chuckled. 

“I see… I can imagine how that went… the four of you lot wobbling back and forth between the kitchen and the sofa… leaning your head on the cupboard because of the pain while you TRIED to shred chicken and stir the soup and all?” You joked.

“It was miserable… But the soup’s really good…” Kyle admitted.

“Yeah, bet it is… Johnny sent me a text about it…” You added with a chuckle. “Now how about you dry yourself up and get dressed before you catch something, hm?”

“Or you could warm me up instead…” Kyle quipped and winked at you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

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[gyuwoncheol]

Worth It

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: Smut smut smut. Pwp. Fiancé!Mingyu, established relationship. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Basically what happens when you tell Mingyu you’re his for the whole night.

Warnings: Mingyu in a white button down (this deserves a warning, yes), pwp, slight soft dom!Mingyu, very brief mention of dying but more as an expression, marking, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe, children), wall sex, fingering, hand job, multiple orgasms, cum eating, brief light spanking, biting (it's actually just nipping), light anal rimming, squirting, overstimulation, use of color system, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names (good girl, greedy girl, baby), Gyu actually being really sweet if you look at the tiny details, mention of a married Jeonghan, speeding while driving (do NOT do this). Please let me know if I missed something!

WC: 3.5k

Author’s Note: I was working on 2 other wips when Mingyu just wouldn’t leave me alone. This is the result of that. Not my best work and not thoroughly proofread. But it is what it is. I just really needed to get this out of my system because the man is killing me. My inbox is very much open if you wanna thirst on Gyu with me!

Smut directly under the cut

“Gyu, if you keep touching me like that, i’m gonna wanna suck you off” you warned, swatting your fiancé’s hand away from your thigh

“I don’t see why that’s a problem” He shrugged happily, knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel tighter, excited at your proposition

“It’s a problem because you always close your eyes when you cum. You’re going to crash the car. I’d like to get fucked tonight, not die in an accident”

Mingyu laughed at your statement, not even disagreeing in the slightest bit. Yes you were both horny, but safety always came first, especially when it came to you. He wasn’t so sure what came over you. One moment you were both happily celebrating the wedding of your friends, and the next, you were whispering the dirtiest things in his ear during what he thought would be a romantic slow dance with you on the dancefloor.

Who could blame you though? Your fiancé looked every bit of scrumptious in his white button down today, plus he perfectly played his role of doting fiancé through the night: always holding your hand, always keeping you in his line of sight in the rare moments you two were separated, and always whispering 'i love you's'. He tried to be nice and not rush out the wedding venue right after the dance, and he succeeded for a while, but as the party drew on, it was getting more difficult to hide his boner so he practically dragged you to the car whilst waving a quick goodbye to your friends. 

"It's not my fault you're getting me riled up the whole night" he reasoned 

"It's also not my fault I'm engaged to the sexiest man in the world" 

Mingyu raised his brow at you whilst stopped at a red light, "it kinda is though... You did say yes when I proposed" 

"Then you better show me it was worth it" You challenged 

Just as the lights turned green, Mingyu could feel his dick twitch in his pants and he swore he never pressed on that gas pedal faster than he did. 

He couldn't even wait for you to unlock your doors before he was already kissing down your neck, his whole body pressed onto your back so you could feel his hard on. The feeling of his wet tongue on your burning skin had you fiddling for the wrong keys "Gyu! Slow down! I need to get us in" You pleaded with your source of distraction, "I'm yours the whole night, just let me get our keys right" 

"That's funny, you definitely weren't telling me to slow down or wait longer while you whispered all those things on the dance floor... But I will take you up on the offer of having you all night. That is noted" he said the last sentence in a low growl, sending chills down your spine.

Thankfully, the right key finally clicked and your door flew wide open. Mingyu drove you to the closest wall, your head lightly thumping against the hard surface. 

"shit! sorry baby" Mingyu's eyes grew wide, his hand immediately reaching over to the back of your head, worried he had just hurt you. 

You couldn't even care less, pushing your lips back on his for another kiss but Mingyu stopped you with his free hand, keeping you at half an arm's length. "No, no. I need to know. Are you okay?"

You saw just how quickly his eyes went from horny to caring and it got you even more turned on. 

"I'm okay baby, hardly even felt it" You rushed out, reaching for his neck to draw you closer to his lips again. This time, with his full cooperation.

It was everything but calm and collected. Mingyu didn't even leave you any room to fight for dominance as his tongue explored your mouth feverishly. 

He groaned when he felt your nails scratch lightly at his chest, his buttons now all undone and giving you access to his tanned skin. You slowly made your way through his chest, leaving love bites where you could and stripping him off the shirt. When your knees hit the floor, you excitedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his black slacks, exposing his very hard cock that was fighting for release from the confines of his boxers which you eventually freed.

His angry tip momentarily brushed your lips as it sprang up against his stomach and Mingyu let out a moan from the brief contact. He just about died when you gently held his shaft, your tongue sticking out and just centimeters away from where he wanted you. It was as if time stopped for Mingyu. If he just knew where his phone was, he would have definitely memorialized this in a photo. 

Mingyu's precum was right there and you just needed to taste it, swiping your tongue fully on his tip before swirling it around him. You heard him curse which only prodded you even more, your thumb gently pressing down on where your tongue was just a few seconds ago as you slowly started to pump him up and down with both hands. The harder you worked him up, the more precum oozed out of him and everytime it did, you repeated the motion of pressing down on his tip before twisting your hands on his length. 

"Fuck baby, pleaseee" His voice strained. There was something about seeing that diamond ring on your finger as it wrapped around his cock that always got him in a mess

"Hm?" you blinked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes

"Mouth.. Tongue.. Please, I—" He stuttered and that was all you needed to finally get your lips wrapped around him, sucking with a fervor that had your fiance's eyes rolling to the back of his head. The taste of him sending a gush of wetness between your legs. 

Mingyu's mouth hung wide open, letting every whimper and moan come out in full volume as you slowly took more of his length with every bob of your head. You retracted when you were half way through, making sure your tongue was dragging on the underside of his cock to add to the sensation. A string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick.

"Been wanting this the whole night" you mumbled before letting more of your saliva drool onto his cock, earning a groan from your fiancé

You pumped him several more times with your hand before your mouth took him in again. This time, you took your time swirling your tongue and sucking him in, slowly making sure you were able to stuff as much of him down your throat. 

"Babyy— fuck, k-keep going" He encouraged. His large hand still behind your head, not pushing but also not letting you move away. 

You relaxed your jaw more and willed yourself to breathe through your nose. You moaned when he hit the back of your throat and it set goosebumps all over his body, a strained call of your name reverberating through the walls of your house. Your fingers covered what the rest of your mouth couldn’t and you synced your movements enough to have Mingyu jerking in no time 

"So fucking good. Swallowing me so well" 

Your tongue continued to move back and forth on the underside of his cock while your throat continued to spasm and your hand played with his balls. When you had adjusted well enough, you squeezed his right thigh to indicate you were good to go and he could fuck your face. 

And fuck your face, he did. 

With your mouth open wide and tongue sticking out, your fiancé went to town. His hand now fisted your hair in a ponytail as his cock continuously rammed through your throat, hitting the back every single time. You thanked yourself for wearing your toughest waterproof makeup and setting spray because at the rate Mingyu was going, you were definitely tearing up and drooling. As his movements stuttered, you held tightly to the back of his thighs so you could swallow as much of him as you can.

Mingyu closed his eyes shut at the feeling of your tight throat squeezing his cock, "Shit, baby I- I'm so c-close" 

You moaned one more time, setting him off as his pelvis jerked and you saw his head fall back.with a groan. Thick spurts of his cum coated your throat and it only made you moan against him harder, fully adding onto the stimulation your fiancé was feeling. You swallowed thickly with all he had to give you, milking out Mingyu to the very last drop. 

"FUCK" He exhaled, finally stilling you by the shoulders and slipping out. You gasped for air and wiped your face with the back of your hand, a tantalizing smile staring up at Mingyu

He noted how you swallowed him dry and wiped the tears that stained your cheek.

"My good girl.”

You smiled at him, proud of the work you've done and the praise you got. "Your good girl" you repeated 

"Cmere" he called, helping you up hastily and trapping you against the wall for the second time that night

His hand found its place again behind your head, cushioning it from the wall, while the other was hiking up your long silky dress. 

"Gyu..." You inhaled sharply when his mouth latched onto your collar bone, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Just then you felt his fingers cup your pussy and you both moaned at the feeling 

"Fuck baby, no panties?" 

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to contain the cheeky smile forming 

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've gone home as soon as Jeonghan said 'I Do'… y/n, you're leaking" Your fiance stated the obvious when he brushed your thighs, not even giving you the chance to answer his question

“All you, Gyu”

You saw his pupils blow out at your statement, a cocky smirk written all over his face, two thick fingers immediately slipping into your wet hole “What’s that?”

“S-shit..” you gasped, “it’s you. All cause of you.” you repeated, body jerking at the way his fingers hooked on your insides

“My good girl already so wet just sucking me off huh? Didn’t even need to touch you to have your sweet pussy soaking" 

"oh my go— Oh god" 

If the squelching sounds you could hear weren’t enough an indication to how wet you were, surely the slippery sensation in your pussy and thighs were

"Jump" you heard Mingyu demand and you lifted your feet off in no time. His strong arms supporting you by the thighs, his hands just below your pussy where he definitely felt some of your juices dripping. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you were now perfectly sandwiched between the concrete wall and your human wall. 

"Mingyu" you mewled, forehead dropping to his shoulder when you felt the tip of his cock slip right into your cunt. Your body involuntarily moved higher but Mingyu was quick enough to pull you down, sheathing a few more inches of his length inside you

"Look at you, so wet, you don't even need prep to take me" He praised, pushing another inch further into you as another strangled moan ripped through your throat 

Soon enough, your pussy was contracting against Mingyu's dick, the slight pain present awhile ago was now coming in waves of pleasure for you. 

"S'good thing you're soaking baby 'case you're tight pussy's sucking me in so well" 

Mingyu couldn't stop whispering dirty things in your ear, prodding you enough until you were exerting all your upper body strength to bounce on his cock. A couple times he would completely slip out with how wet you were but he was always quick enough to sheath himself back into your hole before you could fully whine. 

"babyyyy" You moaned, the orgasm suddenly appearing hot in your heels already. "m'close. Please.."

"Please what, m' love?" Mingyu thrusted deeply, hitting your gspot with perfect accuracy. If he hadn't held you so tightly, you were sure you would’ve fallen out 

"Cum... P-please. Please let me cu--" the last word dying in your throat when he fully withdrew his cock only to push it right in with double the force of the last. You were seeing stars and the knot in your stomach was holding on for dear life.

"My good girl wants to cum?" 

"YES!" You cried out, "Please.. was good. I w-was good" 

Mingyu chuckled, thoroughly enjoying how broken you sounded when begging for release. With a low whisper to your ear, he let you have what you asked for "Let go, baby" 

If Mingyu wasn't back to being fully erect awhile ago, then he is now with the way your gummy walls clamped so tightly around him, your orgasm flowing through you as your fiancé moved his body against yours in soft body rolls to help you ride out your orgasm. 

"so good, Gyu. So good.. so good" you chanted with hushed tones

When he felt you calm down, Mingyu planted a kiss on your temple telling you to 'hang tight' when he suddenly lifted you off the wall and made large strides to the stairwell of your home, all while still being inside you. In a moment, he opened your bedroom door, stopping at the light switch for you to flick it on. 

"Y/n" he called you in a tone that sent shivers down your spine. He was now standing at the edge of your king sized bed, eyes staring deep into your soul. "Dress off" he demanded.

It was only then you realised how he had been fully naked since forever ago while you were still definitely covered in silk and cotton. You threw the material on the floor at the same time Mingyu slipped out of you and threw you to the bed, your body lightly bouncing on the mattress sending you into a giggles

"I love you" you declared to the man still standing tall with his arms crossed at the edge of your bed. Your eyes glanced at his cock that stood against his stomach, still glistening with your slick, before raking up his toned abs and then back to his face. 

"I love you baby" Mingyu replied with a smile that boasted his canines

It was romantic really, but only for a few seconds, because when Mingyu saw your cum drip out of your hole, his pointer finger made quick work to scoop it up and plug it back in your hole. The gasp you let out had him flashing you a devilish grin, one you knew all too well.

He lifted your legs slowly, placing them over his shoulders while he maintained eye contact with you, his face inching closer and closer. The smell of your sex just making his dick twitch for the nth time that night. When he deemed himself close enough, he blew cold air on your pussy, enough to make your hips buck up, immediately latching his mouth onto your wet folds. A strangled moan of his name was the first thing he heard, followed by the lewd squelches his mouth made against your cunt. 

"Ooohhh my goooood, Mingyuuuuu" you drawled out when his tongue entered your hole, slurping all the cum he had just caught a few seconds ago

He beamed when he finished swallowing your juices, his face lifting up with a toothy grin, "So sweet. All mine" he declared, before licking a fat stripe from your hole to your clit.

Your moans got louder the more he controlled your writhing in bed, not at all caring that you were about to get wrecked with another orgasm with the way his mouth was making out with your pussy: licking through your folds, sucking and swirling on your clit, pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. He felt your fingers run through his hair before harshly pulling at the strands but it only prodded him more. Taking hold of your legs, he raised them forward so you were now folded in half. A growl rumbled through his chest when he saw just how puffy your pussy got from what he did. 

Mingyu delivered two light spanks on your ass before he dove back in to nip and suck at your skin before soothing it with his tongue. The feeling of his teeth grazing your inner thigh was a welcomed addition to every sensation you were feeling down there. 

"Keep going, Gyu" You panted, "Please" 

Your fiancé didn't need to be told twice, making sure he didn't leave any area of your pussy uncovered. Between the light spanking, sucking and nipping, the skin on your thighs were now blooming a bright shade of pink. 

He knew you were close when your right leg trembled with a jerk.

"Cmon, baby. Be my good girl and cum for me.." 

Your eyes met his briefly before pushing his head down to meet your hip. Your orgasm was right there, you could feel it wanting to fall, to break, but you needed something more you couldn't exactly pin point. You squeezed your breasts with your free hand but to no avail. Your fiance's tongue was slurping from your hole, his nose stimulating your clit, yet it wasn't enough. 

"Gyuuu.... So c-close, pleaaase! N-need mo-oore" 

It's a good thing Mingyu knew your body more than you did, because the moment you felt his thumb tease the tight rim of your ass, you didn't only cum, you squirted.

“FUCK, YES” Mingyu celebrated

A silent scream racked through your chest, knocking all air out of your lungs. If your ears weren't just ringing so loudly, you would've heard Mingyu moan out more curse words before diving into your cunt to lap up everything he could. In just a few seconds, your back was arching again as you fought to push his mouth off you. Your whole body was shaking from that earth shattering orgasm, your pussy feeling like it was on fire as overstimulation crept in. 

Mingyu laced his fingers through your hand but his attempt to ground you was contradicting the words that came out of his mouth. 

"Don’t push me away, baby. Thought you needed more? didn't think my good girl was gonna be a greedy one tonight" 

He was chuckling at how far gone you were, mumbling incoherent words to him. All he could really make out was the occasional call of his name. 

"Baby.." you groaned desperately when you felt him leave light kisses on the knuckles of your hand that he was holding 

"Hmm?"

"I—" you stammered, between the wetness of your sheets and your insides still trembling, you weren't really sure how to string words together

"Does my greedy girl want more?" Mingyu's brow raised, the tone in his voice suggesting that he was not done with you yet. You felt his whole body hover over you, a comforting warmth that made you feel safe and loved despite every single dirty thing he was just doing to you.

"You can give me more, right baby?" Your fiancé asked while one hand pumped his hard cock languidly

"you did say I could have you the whole night… you meant that, right?" 

Mingyu saw you look at him in a daze, nodding eagerly even though he knew his words were still registering in your brain

"Y/n, baby… color." He cleared out, wanting to make sure you really did want this. He could read you well in moments like this, but even if he did, Mingyu always made sure he heard the words from you.

He saw you pause and he was ready to drop everything, ready to scoop you in a cuddle then run you a warm bath while he changed the sheets. He could care less if he didn't get to cum a second time tonight, at least he had his fair share awhile ago. But he waited patiently for your words. 

The silence lingered long enough that he felt like asking the question again, just in case you didn't hear him. 

"G-green, Gyu" you choked out, your throat feeling dry as the desert "But... could I get some water, please?" You asked, your face wincing at how difficult it was to form that one sentence alone.

You were sure it had only been two seconds since you asked, yet your fiancé was already helping you sit up, a jug of water with a straw in hand so you could quench your thirst. Mingyu gently cupped your cheek as you drank, his thumb caressing your skin before planting a soft kiss on your forehead

You smiled gratefully at him after drinking probably half the jug, "Thank you, babe" 

He drank some water too before settling it down on the floor, and then facing you. The crinkles on his eyes were showing and despite having his hair stick out in odd places, he still was the most handsome man you've laid your eyes on.

"I love you, y/n" 

You closed the gap between you, a chaste kiss on his lips despite getting a slight taste of yourself. "I love you, Gyu"

Your hand held the back of his neck, the mischievous glint in your eyes making a reappearance after that necessary water break. Mingyu's devilish grin followed suit too when you uttered your next words, a redeclaration of how this all began. 

"I'm yours the whole night." 

[mikobeautifulheart]

JJK men "pretending" to be your boyfriend.

INCLUDING: Yuji, Megumi

TW: it's a stalker kind of situation and people being creeps.

Each person is like 500 words each.

◇Megumi◇

You were on a snack run during your "games night" that Yuji insisted you guys do.

It was the height of your Friday night, absolutely winning Monopoly. But the snacks started to run low during your Just dance sessions.

Everyone stopped for the night and decided to put on a movie. The TV turned out to be helpless; it would only play DVDS.

So you, Yuji, Megumi and Nobora drew straws on who was going where.

It was decided that you and Megumi would go get drinks and snacks, leaving Yuji and Nobora to pick out a movie before the store closed.

You all put on sweaters and hoodies before heading out.

"Okay we'll all meet back here at 10:00 okay?" Nobora said

You all nodded in agreement.

Then you all split into your respective directions. You and Megumi walk together down dark streets, sure you were a sorcerer and all but you were also human, you couldn't help but feel nervous walking at this time of night, especially past so many bars. But all you needed was to hear Megumi strike up a conversation and forget all about the dangers.

"Are you sure? I can be quick?"

"We'll be back in no time" He said, giving a little grin, sensing how uncomfortable you felt.

"Yeah don't worry Megumi were just picking up snacks" you said with a slight quiver in your voice.

"Oh here we are," Megumi said, suddenly coming to a stop.

Megumi looked at you with a slight frown.

"I guess I'll go to the next store to save time" You said knowing that this store wouldn't have all you're looking for.

"It's fine, the quicker we can go the better." You said.

"Okay, I'll meet you…?"

"Yeah, actually I'll meet you here" you said”

He headed into the store still watching you until you began to walk down the path, the street lights were barely bright enough for you to feel safe, every time you walked past an alley you heard shuffles that made the hairs on the end of your neck stand up. The footstep shuffling sound was so close to you, you could have swarn they were trying to walk past you, but they didn’t.

Finally you made it to the brightly lit convenient store, no one else was in there but the cashier. As you walked inside a beep rang throughout the store, and right after another one did too. You turned around the corner of a shelf slightly catching a glimpse of a stranger in a hoodie, face was hard to make out when they were wearing a mask. The cashier suddenly left into the back behind the counter. It made you a little more nervous but all you had to do was be quick.

You brushed it off as another person looking for something to. You grabbed a basket and started putting items into it but you could feel eyes glaring into the back of your head. No this isn't happening. Just as you got to the back of the store you pulled out your phone and tried to unlock it to text Megumi but a hand grabbed your wrist suddenly. 

“HEY!” you harshly whispered shocked at the sudden action

“Let go!” you said out loud with more confusion than confidence trying to pull your wrist away.

Another beep rang through the store and hurried foot steps headed your way. What if it was another person? What if this was a set up? You might die here tonight.  The footsteps reached you and you felt a hard chest pressed against your back. You squeezed your eyes shut wishing you weren't here and stayed with Megumi instead.

“Let go of her” a familiar voice said intimidatingly.

It was Megumi, he grabbed your wrist back pulling the other person's hand off and holding it.

“Look man this girl is my little sister, she just ran away and our parents sent me to bring her back- '' The stranger suddenly said hurriedly not expecting this complication.

“She's not going with you, go tell your ‘parents’ she's fine because she's with her boyfriend” he said

The man's face went white and he wordlessly hurried out of the store.

“You should have come with me,” he said. He let you go and you turned to him, almost shaking.

You bring your wrist up to your eyes to inspect the stinging pain, it's red. Megumi's attention is drawn to your wrist too. Gently he takes it and presses it to his lips.

“Im sorry that happened” He sighed a cold breath against your skin

“Let’s just go home, I'm tired" you sighed.

☆Yuji☆

You and Yuji were doing some afternoon studying together. Eventually, before it got dark Yuji wanted to do something different.

“Hey Y/N lets go watch a movie as a celebration for finishing”

“Yuji we have a whole other test.”

“But thats next week and we’re already ready for tomorrow” He smiled

It was so pure, you couldn’t say no. You both got up and started to walk out of the library with your things. After a quick stop at your respective dorms and dropped off your things with a quick outfit change and you guys began to walk together.

It was getting dark now and the cinema was a few minutes away, you had an off feeling deep down in your gut like someone was watching you. But Yuji was with you, nothing could possibly happen. And if something did Yuji would be there to protect you right?

You guys get into the cinema and the feeling still bothers you. To be quick Yuji said he would go buy all the snacks while you picked a movie and bought tickets. You watched as he walked off and waved, you smiled back at him, it was just a weird feeling, no reason to get Yuji paranoid, plus you had no hard evidence it would be weird to mention. You stood in line when you felt someone stand behind you strangely close. Maybe it was Yuji who came back to ask what you wanted, but when you turned around  there was someone else, a complete stranger looming over you. You froze in shock when you realised who it was. An old classmate, before you even came to Jujutsu high, but you left all that in the past. He always stuck out to you, doing strange things when you were around until one day in school you found him going through your bag. He was a real creep.

“You” you hissed at him through gritted teeth. He made your life miserable for the longest time, you were extremely paranoid for that part of your life and the only time you forget about him he comes back to haunt you.

“You need to come with me” he said in a low voice, you could tell he didn't want to make a scene.

Honestly neither did you, so you'd have to find your way out of it without gaining too much attention. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, about to call Yuji to meet you urgently but the guy snatched the phone from you. 

“Hey! Give that back!” you tried to stay calm but he was getting on your nerves. You reached out to get it back before he put a pocket knife close to your stomach. It was in his sleeve so no one could see it, but you could feel it.

“Come outside with me” he said and not knowing what to do you complied hoping that someone would notice the trouble you were in. He stood behind you making you walk out the door. Just as you stepped out a hand grabbed your arm. You flinched at the sudden contact.

“Hey don’t leave me now” Yuji looked at you with his eyes dead set on you. 

“Hey buddy back off can’t you see we’re busy here?” the creep said

“Actually we’re the ones busy here, so if you don't mind, do your business and leave us alone.” Yuji said, wrapping his arm around your waist and glaring at the guy coldly.

“Look Who do you even think you are pal?” The creep asked demanding for an answer

You held your breath. 

“Please help me Yuji” you mumbled softly that only he could hear. He looked down at you seeing how bad this was. 

“Im her boyfriend so you better not touch her again or I'll have to punch your face in. I sure as hell know for a fact that she wants nothing to do with you so I'd tread lightly” Yuji said without hesitating. He turned around with you and walked into the cinema leaving the guy frozen there.

“Thanks” you whispered leaning into his side. He squeezed you closer to buy the tickets with you this time.

When you got into the room you guys sat down and Yuji said

“I’m sorry I didn't notice you sooner” His hand going under your shirt feeling a scratch the knife left. You didn’t even notice your senses were too heightened. Your face turned red, luckily the room was too dark to notice. You leaned onto his shoulder as the movie started and planted a small kiss on your head.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: I probably should have mentioned this in the other posts but re-blogs are welcomed if you were wondering. Also I tried to keep it short and sweet but all the events would be to much to rush and it wouldn't make sense. Also thanks for reading.

EDIT: HERES PART 2 WITH GOJO AND GETO

[tendermiasma]

Anonymous asked: Did Clover help Halsin with the shadow curse etc, or is their story divergent from the game?

He did, in time. In the Shadowlands he felt exposed and vulnerable with nowhere to run. When the party started ordering him down from taking extra watches he exhausted himself with concealment spells. Halsin in particular seemed concerned with his welfare, encouraging him to rest, which made Clover vow never to close both eyes again. Halsin's entanglement with the Fey made him, in his eyes, his greatest threat. Halsin's want to keep him close felt like

a hound guarding his master's kill, waiting for his return. He'd walked in darkness before and braved the Shadowfell when the little thing inside him that his whole life kept him alive, that screamed and screamed to run or die, reached a fever pitch. It ended poorly.

It pained Halsin more and more that Clover looked at him with such confused mistrust, that he shrank from him. He should let someone alone who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. A sting was natural, but knowing that it was what one wanted had always made it easier to part ways in the end. It made him restless. A pit opened in his stomach when he'd reach to relieve Clover of the heavy water pail to douse the fire and watch his gaze immediately struggle to find its sharpness under a bleary sleeplessness thick with nights spent holding up wards while the Weave frayed around him. Halsin's eyes roamed the treeline but he only thought of how Clover froze at his approaching footfalls at the change of watch. Halsin felt childish, selfish even. Why couldn't he just let this be? He knew why. Something was deeply wrong-- he was a healer and saw in Clover an injury of a different kind. He wished he could convince himself it was the only reason. He had never been a good liar, but this was the first time he cursed himself for it.

It was he who carried Clover back to the firelight and kept him in his own tent to recover. As kind as Halsin was, it was unwise for anyone to keep Clover from him then.

In its unfamiliar warmth was the first time Clover ever spoke of what happened to him. He spoke in the weight of forests holding lost years and spells and a man in the bones of an owl. It all lay about in a half-light, a moonlight throwing long shadows on what he could not say, what he could not remember, what choked him from fear to even whisper.

While he was unable to leave-- due to his physical state and later Halsin's strong insistence-- they had many hushed hours to spend together. It was the first time Clover noticed the heaviness in Halsin's eyes that would part like clouds for the sun when there was something to be done. Clover softened under Halsin's murmured conversation and learned not to pull from his hands. He was only able to stand so much though; Halsin's intentioned touch was overwhelming. It was gentle and mindful and consumed his entire senses and made him want to bolt for the Shadowfell once more. He wanted to cut out every part of him that Halsin's hands had touched because he wanted to think of anything else besides the memory of them lingering on his skin. He wanted Halsin to never stop touching him. He wanted to set the tent on fire.

The warm and deep scent of the blankets and furs that Halsin piled around him was intoxicating and dangerously comforting to Clover. He put nettles under his cheek to keep himself from falling asleep. It sometimes wasn't enough. When Halsin drew close, Clover was enveloped in the same scent.

It took a great amount of trust for Clover to finally help Halsin lift the Shadow Curse and rescue Thaniel. He began to see Halsin's true heart when he very nearly made the whole world stop for him, just by giving him a place to be and a little bit of care without Clover having to look over his shoulder. Even if he still watched, he watched him differently. He defended the gateway with a ferocity and sense of purpose he could never remember feeling before; that something had meaning now. He knew the thing that Halsin would carry back with him. He did not know what he would do. But the little animal that lived in him that always told him to run was waiting for him, too.

[aboutcustardcreams]

I truly love your agathrio x reader stories 💕, is there anyway to get a continuation after motherhood. To see what happens with Nicky and how they all manage to keep going on with their lives together or separate. Again really love your work❤️❤️❤️❤️

Action and Reaction (1)

Summary: The ritual of resurrection begins. Everything seems to be going smoothly, but will it last?

Enjoy it witches, and happy New Year <3

previous chapter

Agatha slowly lifted her face from Nicky’s chest to look at you. Her eyes were so red and puffy, she struggled to see through. “Please, hurry– please–” the desperation in her tone shattered your already broken heart. 

Swallowing, you nodded shakingly, “I-I’m doing it as fast as I can, Agatha.” 

You haven’t let yourself grieve for a second, working restlessly instead, with your fingers tracing runes meant to bless your spell, and act as protection, too. 

Your lover bit the inside of her cheek, glancing between you and Nicky. A whirlwind of thoughts going on inside her head. This was it, the moment of truth. 

Rio had taken the boy, just as she had promised she would. Yet, even with the warning, the moment struck like a thief in the night. None of you were truly prepared for it, despite having known from the day he was born, Nicky was destined to die. When Rio reversed the incantation and her magic hurled you and Agatha back into your bodies, both of you fell into a heavy, dreamless, cursed sleep. It was during that span of time that Lady Death claimed your son, slipping away into the shadows before you could awaken. 

You sniffled and wiped at your tear-streaked face with the back of your hand. You felt guilty, incredibly so. Had Nicky been scared? Had he tried to call out for you and Agatha, when Rio showed up? Had he cried? Only a couple of hours prior, when you met Rio, she had assured you that her intentions were to talk to you and Agatha only. Nicky didn’t have much longer to live, but she hadn’t shown up to take him away. That’s what she said. And like a fool, you’d believed her. How stupid had you been. Rio had had the audacity to meet your gaze and Agatha’s and feed you lies with such disarming ease that it made you want to double over and retch. 

“I can’t believe she did that–” you choked on an angry sob. Agatha lifted her chin to meet your gaze. Big tears were streaming down your face without rest. There was dirt in your fingers as you scraped through the soil; some on your face too as you kept wiping at it. “Fuck— we knew it was meant to happen, but she said–” you exhaled shakingly and shook your head in disbelief. “She said she only wanted to talk. That she wouldn’t take him tonight.”

Agatha’s jaw tightened, a shadow passed through her once bright blue eyes. Her brows furrowed as she wondered if you hated Rio now, if you were capable of feeling such hatred for a woman that for centuries, you loved so deeply. 

“She made her choice,” her voice came out in a low, raspy whisper. 

Narrowing your eyes at her, your hands stilled on your knees. Chest rising and falling heavily, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in your lungs. 

“And I made mine. She is dead to me.” 

You blinked away more tears, biting down on your trembling lip as you nodded to yourself. There was no justifying Rio’s actions, not this time. She had lied to you. She made you believe Nicky still had time, but instead, she took him away. And what’s worse, she deprived you and Agatha of the chance to stay with him, to hold him and tell him to not be afraid, because you’d have saved him. In the end, you’d have brought him back, despite Rio’s warning. 

“What are these for?–” Agatha began, eyes trying to decipher the meaning of the runes, you so meticulously drew around her and Nicky. “It’s the first time you use runes to perform the ritual.” 

You hummed with a nod, moving a strand of hair from your face. “You’re right. Consider this as a little upgrade,” despite the slight waver in your voice, it didn’t lack playful determination. “I mean to contact my lineage to gather as much power as possible,” you continued. Agatha’s brows furrowed. You meant ‘gather’ as in.. ‘take’? “Not that mine isn’t enough. But I’m not taking any chances tonight. I need all the help I can get.”

Agatha’s hands tightened around Nicky’s body, as she processed your words. In her eyes you spotted a silent warning, though. She knew better than anyone else what came with turning into a succubus. You weren’t one, but she was. And while she was used to the feeling, you weren’t. And that could be overwhelming if not handled wisely. Dangerous, too. 

“I beg you to be careful, my love.” 

You nodded, a gentle smile crossing your lips, as you reached out to cup her damp, pale cheek, “I’ll only take what they offer. Not a touch beyond that.”

She leaned into your touch and tried to reciprocate your smile. 

She couldn’t shake off the fear caused by Rio’s words from earlier. If you pursued this pact, your life would be the one at the stake. And though she thought of you as one of the strongest witches ever encountered, one that could easily overcome any challenges thrown at you, a part of her still wondered if your power could ever outmatch Rio’s, or that of the Fates themselves. She took a silent vow, a witch vow, exactly on that full moon night, of which you knew nothing about, but in all honestly you didn’t need to. From that moment on, it was her job to make sure you would be protected from whatever curse or evil would come your way once the ritual was completed. 

“Tell me about the passages,” she demanded, concern lacing her tone. “Everything. I need to know everything.”

Gently, you placed a hand behind Agatha’s neck, drawing her closer until the warmth of her skin and the familiar, comforting scent of her surrounded your senses. You breathed her in, then soothed the panicked frame of mind she was in, with a tender kiss on the tip of her nose. 

“Here’s the plan,” you began, in a soft and calming tone. “You know, Nicky is part of us, but due to his unfortunate condition at birth, he never managed to develop any powers as he should have-”, you pointed out. Agatha’s lashes fluttered, as she mirrored your exact sense of guilt. “It was his right, as the son of witches to be born with magic, whether it came from me, you or…Rio.”

A pause followed. You bowed your head and glanced over at your son. When you reached out to touch his cheekbone, your breath hitched at how unnaturally cold it felt. 

Your voice wavered, “I’m not going to just bring him back as a mortal. No, that wouldn’t be enough,” you angrily wiped at your eyes again. “That would have been enough once, but now–” a humourless scoff slipped from your lips. “Now I want more. More for him, for you and for me.”

Agatha held her breath as she listened to you. The way your demeanor had changed since your last encounter with Rio was something she imagined could happen to her but never to you. And that could only fuel her hatred for Rio for the things she did and how deeply they affected you. 

“I’m done doing what it’s expected of me. My power is mine and mine alone to control. Nobody will dictate how I use it anymore. So, here’s what I’m gonna do– I’ll seal this ritual with blood magic, and when I’m done, Nicky will rise stronger than ever before.”

Agatha appeared conflicted, her gaze dropped to Nicky. You meant to perform a kind of magic among the most dangerous. She knew where you had read of it: the Darkhold, but she never thought your intention was that of using it for Nicky someday. If the spell succeeded, the child would inherit your power and the lifespan of a true witch. But all magic demanded a price, and the cost of this spell… even Agatha, with all her knowledge, couldn’t foresee it. 

Your breath hitched, your chest tightened as you muttered, “please, tell me you’re okay with that–” 

Agatha’s eyes met yours again. She exhaled softly through her nose, her shoulders easing ever so slightly. “I won’t tell you how to use your power. Not that I ever did,” she began, a faint glimmer of amusement flickering in her eyes, a spark you couldn’t help but mirror despite the tension. Her voice softened as she continued, a raw honesty breaking through. “All I want is you and Nicky by my side. Both healthy and happy and�� if by doing this, I get that, so be it,” she reached for your hand, before squeezing it, while the other was still tangled in Nicky’s hair. “Save our son.”

You nodded quietly, then. Nothing would stop you now. Agatha’s blessing was all you needed  So screw the Fates, and screw Rio, 

Agatha’s eyes landed on you as you let go of her hand, to press both palms over the soil, fingertips scraping a bit, as if to grab onto something. 

Taking in a long breath, you bowed your head and started your invocation. 

I call upon Drusilla, Lysandra and Talìa, keepers of forbidden knowledge, and therefore hanged by the ignorant. I call upon Elara, Calysta and Fenra, whose visions guided their coven, and bend the veil between life and death. 

The spirits of your ancestors channeled their energy, the earth beneath you trembling with their power, while a gentle wind swept through your hair. The silver hue of your magic mingled with the black of your sisters’, blending seamlessly as if it was meant to be. At that point, magic crawled out of your digits, flowing like a viscous substance towards the runes you carved in the dirt. 

Agatha’s breath hitched, her arms instinctively tightening around Nicky. 

The circle surrounding her flared to life, each rune glowing brighter as the names you summoned answered your plea. But her focus shifted when she noticed the glow wasn’t limited to the runes, you were glowing too.

“You look…” Agatha began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Gorgeous.” 

Your eyes snapped open, and glazed down at your hands, then back at Agatha. 

“Woah this… this feels good.” Flexing your fingers, you let out a breathless, almost disbelieving chuckle. 

“Are you really okay?” 

You scooted closer to them, nodding promptly. “Yeah– it feels like nothing can stop me now that I’ve got my sisters’ blessing,” you explained with a smile. “I can feel them. They– they want to help me save our son.” 

Agatha reciprocated your smile. “What are you gonna do now?”

Glancing down at your son, your brows furrowed slightly, “I need to make a small cut over his palm.”

Agatha’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, her protective instincts flaring, as she guarded you. “Okay, yeah–”

“It’s gonna be over soon,” you reassured her. 

She nodded her head, without adding another word. 

You reached down, pulling the blade from its hidden sheath in your boot, its cool metal settling heavily in your right hand. Agatha gently lifted Nicky’s palm then, holding it steady despite her own shaking. 

The knife felt impossibly heavy in your grip. 

When the blade met his tender, unblemished skin, a sharp pain lanced through you, as though the cut was your own. 

Agatha clenched her eyes shut, her shoulders trembling as new tears streaked her face, falling as quickly as Nicky’s fresh droplets of blood. 

“Okay,” you sniffled, your voice cracking as you tutted as if Nicky could hear you. “Now it’s mama’s turn.” 

Less gently, as if you wanted to punish yourself for what happened, you sliced your own palm, and hissed at the pain it unfolded. 

Blood dripped from your wound, but along with it, there was something else too, your magic, both black and silver pouring down like summer rain. You took in a deep breath before pressing that same palm against Nicky’s injured one. 

Fili mi, redi ad me. Renuntia morti et vitam a me accipe. Repere ex tenebris et proditione. Ut magia sanguinis sit benedictio et non maledictio. 

Agatha’s eyes snapped wide open the moment she realized something. Nicky’s lifeless form remained heavy in her arms, but something was changing. 

His once cold body now felt warmer—

 “Yes-” She breathed out. “I think it’s working. Keep going! Keep going!”  

The air around him seemed to shift, a faint, gentle breeze stirring his long, tousled brown hair. Your breath quickened, your entire body tingled. 

“He’s coming back to us,” you answered, his skin matching yours as it glowed. “I can feel him…,” you glanced down at him, hope flickering in your orbs. 

Agatha watched you lower yourself, your lips brushing against the tip of his nose, then to each of his cheeks, no longer cold.  

When you cupped his face, his mouth parted a bit, as if his lungs were claiming the first, second breath of air. You’d be the one giving him that. Nicky flinched in Agatha’s arms, the moment you -ever so gently- blew into his mouth, and then whispered one last spell. 

Vitalum, vitalis.

*

Present Time

“Impressing, isn’t it?” Teen asked as he guarded your side profile. 

You nodded weakly, an expression of pure stupor settled on your face, as you kept your chin up in awe, “yeah, definitely.”

Agatha was a couple of steps ahead of you, her face unreadable, as she studied the trees, the leaves, and the path stretching before you. On a silver lining, you outrun the Salem Seven, and had an entire coven as back up just in case, they would show up again. Which was very likely, all things considered. The downside was that Agatha had still no magic and was probably going to be pretty grumpy for the time being. 

“Is it how you remember it, Agatha?” Lilia asked her. 

She looked at you, and then at the older witch, with a hum that sounded rather indecisive. A fake smile stretched on her lips. “More or less. Quite a bit chillier, though.”

“I can light a fire,” Alice suggested casually. 

Agatha scrunched up her nose as first response. “No, we should get going. We can take a break further on.”

You dew closer, your fingers brushed against hers, “going where?”

“Well, down the Road, silly–” she quipped, her voice light, definitely fake. If you didn’t know Agatha, you might think she wasn’t worried at all—that she even had some grand plan to get over every trial. But you knew better.

Sighing, you cocked an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, silly me indeed.” You trailed off, with your fingers tapping playfully at her arm, you caught the way her tongue pressed against her cheek. A tell that she was trying to keep her nerves in check. So like Agatha. 

Glancing around, you noted the others were too preoccupied with observing the surroundings to pay attention. Taking the chance, you gently pulled Agatha aside, against an ancient tree. 

“Do you think this is really the Road?” 

“How would I know that?” she snapped, though her tone was hushed. “It appeared out of nowhere–” 

You flinched at her sharpness. You scoffed. “Well, I’m sorry if I’m worried,” you averted your gaze from her and crossed your arms over your chest, defensively. 

Agatha sighed at the sight of you. Her gaze softened and a pout formed to her lips. “No, don’t apologize–” her arm draped around your middle. The movement unraveled you, your arms falling to your sides like thawing ice. You’d always melt for her, it wasn’t even a question. “I am sorry,” she said quietly, but sincerely, her head tilting to meet your eyes. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m worried too, but I cannot let it show…”

You followed her gaze as she motioned at the other witches with her eyes. “They think I have all the answers, that I know where this road leads and how to get them to the end in one piece. If we break the act now, it’ll all fall apart. We can’t let that happen.”

You nodded your head, exhaling softly. “You’re right–” a sheepish smile crossed your lips. “I freaked out for a minute, but I’m all good now. I promise.”

A hum slipped from your lover’s lips, both thoughtful and amused, as she pulled you closer. With her front pressed against hers, she brushed her lips to your forehead. Her eyes fell shut, as she inhaled in your scent, silently praying to whoever was listening to keep you safe. “It’s okay. None of us expected such a thing.” 

If this was really the Witches’ Road, it meant that there was a trial waiting for each of them, and there was no guarantee of surviving. Agatha remembered Teen’s words, regarding the road. At its end– if you survive, the thing you most desire awaits for you. Such a simple premise: all you had to do was make it through. As if survival were child’s play. Agatha’s frustration clawed at her throat, threatening to erupt in a scream, but she swallowed it down and smiled instead. 

“Don’t wander off.” Her thumb traced soothing circles against your side. “Stay close to me. Always.”

You chuckled to yourself, then clicked your tongue in a teasing way. “I should be the one saying that to you.”

She dropped her eyes, the angles of her lips curled down. You sighed, immediately regretting your wording choice. “Hey– you’ll get it back. One way or another. I’ll make sure of it.” 

She nodded reluctantly, “I know. I just hate feeling this useless. ” Depending on other witches for her safety was a bitter pill to swallow. She didn’t mind you, obviously, considering all the things you went through, together. 

Your eyes rolled dramatically, “you’re not useless, Aggie. Don’t say that.” 

“Right now, I am,” her voice was laced with bitterness and annoyance. 

You shook your head again and poked at her chest. “No,” you insisted. “Don’t make me blast you.”

An amused grin tugged at her lips. matching yours, “don’t threaten me with a good time, love.”

You chuckled again, Agatha’s fingers drummed over your hips teasingly, “you love it.” 

“I love you ,” her answer was so prompt, it made your stomach flip. Hadn’t it been for her hands steading you, your knees would have given in. 

You reached out, your fingers playing with the tips of her long curly hair. “I love you too,” you whispered, pressing a small, delicate kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“Are you two done with the flirting?” Jen asked, interrupting your moment. 

Agatha rolled her eyes with a grunt. 

You turned around, tongue darted over your lips as you tutted teasingly, “why, Kale? Feeling left out?” Agatha still had one arm wrapped around your waist. Her possessiveness was driving you wild. In the best way possible, obviously. However, this was absolutely the wrong place and the worst possible time for your thoughts to wander in that direction.

Jen’s face turned crimson, “Pfft- don’t be ridiculous!”

Agatha’s amusement flickered away, the moment you slipped out of her grasp. “Hey!” she snapped, her tone halfway between a scold and a whine.

You shot her a cheeky grin and winked. “Before you two start another round of bickering, I suggest we get moving.” 

Without waiting for a response, you strode up the Road, taking the lead as the other witches exchanged glances before trailing after you. 

Agatha hesitated for only a moment, before quickening her pace to catch up and be next to you. Leaning in close, her breath tickled your ear as she whispered, “What part of ‘stay close to me’ wasn’t clear?” 

You glanced at her with playful affection, “feeling clingy, Aggie?” 

“Clingy?” She scoffed, blowing a raspberry. “What’s that? I’m not clingy.” 

A soft laugh slipped from your lips that only served to quicken Agatha’s heartbeat. “I’m protecting you. There’s a difference,” she insisted, matter of factly. 

You rolled your tongue, before adding, “protect me all you want, my love. And oh, while you’re at it, don’t forget to hold my hand.” 

Agatha rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. With a huff that was far too soft to be genuine, she grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly, “only because it makes Jen uncomfortable.”

You nodded, unconvinced. “It’s surely the only reason,” you hummed, with a smile.

[genshin-impact-unofficial]

Danced With You Once Upon A Dream 🌠

Headcannons of Genshin boys seeing you in a ball gown and asking you to dance.

Ft: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe, Thoma, Ayato, and Alhaitham

Tags: Fem!Reader, crushes everywhere, jealousy, fluff, PG, GOOD VIBES ONLY, i chose a lot of smug men please spare me, no beta we die like men Notes: I JUST REALLY WANTED TO MATCH PRETTY BOYS TO PRETTY DRESSES! SUE ME! (Another repost!)

Diluc

Diluc is a known hermit. After his father's death, it was a rare sight to see him at any large social event. He preferred to keep it that way, but tonight's banquet is an exception. The masked vigilante accepted the invitation for an opportunity to eavesdrop on a fatui officer in attendance. Unfortunately, his person of interest appeared to be a complete no-show. The whole night was already a total bust.

Perhaps if he left right then, he could still do a patrol around Mondstadt before dawn. It was the enjoyable option compared to being approached again by another person seeking his attention. Idle chit-chat was never something he enjoyed much anyway and he was in no mood to talk business.   

Diluc contemplated his exit strategy that would avoid being stopped by anyone. An eruption of chatter drew everyone's attention to the main doors. There was a late arrival being announced. It was nice timing, he would just need to slip out during the commotion. How odd for one guest to kick up this much of a fuss... Diluc's curious gaze followed up to the large entry doors and inevitably fixated onto the beautiful figure, onto you. 

His plans to leave vanished with each step you descended down the grand staircase. Your flowing dress moved in such an entrancing way that he could swear you plucked it straight out of fairy tale. Diluc has been so busy with the winery and his investigations... he couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to you. Perhaps he should stay a little longer, if only just to catch up at least.

The red haired man was utterly enchanted by your movements. It explained why he was drawn in like a magnet, moving as if under your spell. He strode smoothly through the crowd to meet you at the foot of the stairs. His hand extended to guide you down the last couple steps, down to earth, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When you finally glance up from your hands to meet Diluc's gaze, adoration is already clear across his features.

"Y/N" He greeted you, bowing to place a small peck on the back of your hand. "Its lovely to see you tonight." Diluc spoke slow and earnestly, as if channeling every ounce of his princely charm into that sentiment. You felt like butter melting into his warmth, becoming pliant in his hands. “May I?” Diluc gestured forward, asking if he could accompany you in. 

The presence of the elusive owner of Dawn Winery did little to quell the whispers and eyes on you. Now awoken from your dreamy haze, you became aware of just how much attention you've managed to garner. You looked yourself over. Had there been a stain that you missed? Were you not on theme? How embarrassing... Your panic was interrupted by Diluc's fond chuckle. It almost annoyed you how amused he seemed by your antics.

“There’s no need to worry. They’re staring because they can't bare to look away. You are simply captivating.” Diluc stated as if it were an obvious fact. “If you are still feeling nervous, how about a dance to get your mind off it?” 

Kaeya

Kaeya spent most of the ball like a fly on the wall, listening in on conversations here and there. To his dismay, there was nothing interesting happening tonight. The juciest thing he managed so far were the two Fatui delegates discussing their distaste of the liquor served. “Honestly! Can’t they provide anything stronger? It’s practically disrespect to serve-” A pause. “Hmm... well at least there’s plenty of eye candy to eat up.” The man changed topics in favor of discussing the newest arrival to his comrade.

From his vantage point, Kaeya discreetly surveyed the crowd. His sweep abruptly stopped when he spotted you in such an elegant gown. “My, my don’t you clean up well.” The captain chuckled quietly to himself. He smirked slyly down at you and thought of a couple ways to make you be the one to approach him.

His plans changed rapidly when he noticed how swarmed you were. You hadn’t even taken five steps before multiple men stopped you, a half circle was already beginning to form. Confusion and an awkward politeness were loud and clear on your features yet no one took the hint. 

The look of the situation bubbled up something in the pit of Kaeya's stomach. He would sooner cut off his silver tongue before ever calling it jealousy. It was accompanied by a feeling of annoyance. Do those men not have eyes? Couldn’t they see they were making you uncomfortable? They don’t even have the decency to let you greet your friends first before bombarding you.

He simply could not let this stand. As a knight, he is upheld to a code of chivalry after all. It was easy to weave his way through the other guests to get to you. “My dear Y/N, you made it!” Kaeya addressed you, loud enough to make a couple of the men turn to look. Without hesitation, he took the opening to wedge himself between the half turned bodies.

He made the maneuver look easy, like he had done this exact thing a million times over. The Calvary Caption smoothly took your hand in his and gazed into your eyes like there wasn’t a dozen people staring. He flash of a small smirk, with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glint in his eye before, he continuing his theatrics.

“You look simply heavenly.” Kaeya said in a sickeningly sweet tone, playing it up slightly for listening ears. “Now that you’ve arrived, you can do me the honors of bestowing me your first dance of the night. You did promise it to me after all.” 

You caught on quickly, nodding in agreement. That's all it took for Kaeya to lead you out of the corner you were trapped in and into the rest of the festivities. Once you both were out of earshot, you quietly thanked him. 

“There’s no need, Y/N. Those men were being simply unmannerly.” He laughed, a smug look creeping back onto his face. “Although, it would also be quite rude to make a liar out of me. So how about that dance?”  

Zhongli

Zhongli was familiar to with the formal banquets held on the Pearl Gallery. He did not always attend, but when he felt the desire to people watch the consultant accepted the invitation. The harbor is a beautiful heart of Liyue and the its people are the blood that pumps through her veins. To the being who laid its foundation, Rex Lapis viewed it like art to see the continued flow of life unfold before him.

He participated as the role an average guest. Someone may strike up a conversation now and again, in response he would chat idly about nothing at all. The visitor would then move on to their next conversation and Zhongli was perfectly content sipping his drink and taking in the evolving atmosphere.

The next shift in energy accompanied your arrival and his ember eyes watched the scene change before him once again. The former archon was fascinated by the buzz that rippled outward from where you stood. When you approached, people excitedly began chatting, smiling, and laughing. Knowing you well, he could tell you were radiating delight effortlessly, even while just greeting other guests. He no longer observed the gathering as a whole, his gaze instead followed the intricate detailing leading up your bodice. It was entrancing to watch each graceful step while you made your way around the ship’s deck.

Zhongli contemplated the notion of approaching you. Doing so would actively shift the trajectory of the evening. Taking your time for himself disrupts the organic flow of art he admired just moments prior. Would that be fair to you? You, who was someone he respected and admired. You, who looked so divine that it demanded all of his attention in that very moment. You, who Morax would willingly give all of it to.

The answer to his dilemma came simply while watching your eyes meet. Zhongli no longer felt content with his self assigned role of bystander. He had a deep desire to partake. Thus, the stubborn rock uprooted himself. 

“Hello again Y/N, you look blindingly radiant tonight.” Zhongli approached you with a graceful bow The lightest kiss is placed upon the back of your hand like a whisper. Your glowing smile and warm greeting prompts yet another decision. “It would be heavenly if you allowed me your company tonight. Would you care for a dance?”

The old archon had already inserted himself into this occasion's flow, it would be foolish not enjoy it in full. 

Childe

Jealousy. Jealousy. Jealousy. You were his guest after all. 

Tartaglia invited you, along with a few others, to a ball thrown by the Snezhnayan embassy. You weren't EXACTLY asked to be his date. Heck, the redhead even emphasized that you were invited as a good friend. But nonetheless, an honored guest of a Fatui Harbinger should be assumed off-limits. It shouldn't matter how stunning you look. Those men lingering around you will just need to be reminded. Politely of course.... 

Childe insisted on your attendance, even going as far as offering to buy you any dress you wanted for the occasion. You were still unsure, since you were aware of how bad the Fatui's reputation had tanked in Liyue recently. During back and forth with him, you jokingly pointed at an outrageously expensive dress in a shop display. There is no way, even someone with money, would drop that much on such a frivolous dress. It was double your rent for archon’s sake. 

Inevitably, when the dress was delivered on your step, you had to sit down to keep from falling over. You begged him to return it. There’s no way you could accept such an outragous gift. HE WAS BEING UNREASONABLE PLEASE! Like always, Tartaglia only laughed at you and teased how great you'll look in it.

The redhead didn’t expect just how great that was.

Some last minute Fatui conflicts allowed you to arrive before him. The party was in full swing and lively as ever. Guests were having enthusiastic discussions sometimes in a tongue you didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t long before you were pulled into a conversation, and then another. 

You already had five drinks lined up waiting for you by the time Childe arrived to the event. The fiery exchanges died down and a few peeled off rub elbows with the harbinger. Unfortunately, you were not able to go greet your friend. Three men blocked your path, insisting you finish your drink so you could dance with them. Any declination was laughed at and brushed over.

“Ah, you must be hard of hearing. My lovely guest here doesn’t wish to dance with you.” The polite words held a chilling edge to them. The men turned to face the instigator with puffed chests and annoyed glares. The Eleventh Fatui Harbringer stood behind them, a malicious smile staring directly back at them. Blood drained from the frozen men's faces and one by one they excused themselves with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Now this isn’t fair.” Tartaglia sighed, his features relaxing now that is attention was on you. “You weren’t supposed to look this amazing in that dress Y/N.” He teased while also taking your hand and guiding you into a spin. “I may have to buy you a few more, so that I can see you like this more often.” You relaxed when you heard his playful tone return. You tell him to quit it while lightly slapping his shoulder. “Hm? I’ll stop if you agree to dance with me. How about it beautiful?”

Thoma

Thoma knew his way around a party. With so many connections to maintain, he fluttered from guest to guest like the social butterfly he was. When the Kamisatos throw a banquet, he’s usually busy with everything that goes on behind of the scenes. As a show of appreciation, Thoma was told to simply enjoy himself tonight. He was sure to take advantage of such an opportunity. The blond even invited you. Since he had no obligations, he could be the one showing you a good time for once. 

It was comical how obvious his double-take was when you arrive. The boy's green eyes sparkled and his mouth hung slightly ajar in awe. He catches himself, remembering his manners. Surely, it couldn't be proper to gawk at your friend so openly. 

Some habits die hard. The Kamisato Clan’s resident housekeeper is the first to greet you and guide you in. “Y/N you look....! Hah, I don't even know how to describe how beautiful you look. I'm utterly speechless." Thoma's charming smile was blinding when he looked at you. For someone rendered speechless, he didn't stop there. "That dress is perfect on you and the color just make your eyes... wow.”

You are showered in compliments. How he is doing it with a straight face? Thoma tone was so earnest and genuinely delighted to behold you, but each word made your face burn in embarrassment. You had to insist that he to stop to prevent your incoming heart attack.

“Ah, sorry Y/N. I must have gotten carried away.” He chuckled, only then finally showing an inkling of bashfulness. “Here, allow me to show you around, I have some people I’d love you to meet.” 

Thoma offered his arm and guided you around the festivities, while also subtly showing you off to everyone and anyone. Like two peas in a pod, you laughed and talked while you mingled around. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were a fresh couple struck with puppy love. But in Thoma's oblivious mind, he saw himself as only your attendant for the evening. He was simply there to ensure you’re a great time. He was happy with this.

The blond noticed your eyes drift over to the dance floor. It's then that he toed a line of where a servant should stay. It would be selfish for him to take you from the party and be the one to dance the night away with you. Sure, he wanted to..... he really wanted to. Would that be ok? Well... what was life without risks? If this was not proper, he'd happily accept whatever consequences.

“Y/N, would you like to dance with me? It would hands down make me the luckiest guy here.”

Ayato

Ayato was bored of the banquet too soon after it begun. As Yashiro Commissioner, he hardly had a moment of peace. There was a multitude of important people in attendance and out of courtesy he exchanged pleasantries and discussed light politics. His lines were well rehearsed, polite and non-confrontational on any one matter. 

 He didn’t know you were on the guest list until your arrival. It didn't go unnoticed how you dress style and color pallet correlated perfectly with the Kamisato Clan's traditional attire. He deduced that Ayaka must of had a hand in both of those happenstances.

As if confirming Ayato's suspicions, Ayaka was the first to greet you. He watched the two of you excitedly talk amongst yourselves. She gestured toward your dress with a not-so-subtle two thumbs up from her. There was a growing chatter amongst the the guests. In less than five minutes you managed to become the center of talk. Not just anyone was warranted to wear Kamisato colors to their events, and so extravagantly at that too. Even with Ayaka’s clear public approval, people will imagine drama where there is none. 

Ayato had to admit, he couldn't tare his eyes from you. The clan head he was speaking to, continued going on and on about business dealings. Meanwhile in the commissioner's head, he began to map out how to speed run through the rest of the interactions he was obligated to have tonight. If he played his cards just right, he may have a moment to chat with you. If time allowed, he may even be able to squeeze in a single dance.

 Ayaka inevitably was pulled away to attend to her other duties, but she encouraged you to feel free to mingle and have fun. Once she left, the eyes on you and the quiet murmurs became much more apparent. 

Ayato noticed your previous excitement shift into anxiety. Left like this, you would be eaten alive by these ruthless socialites. You might even leave before he had a chance to make his way to you. This definitely won’t do. Ayato politely excused himself from the mind numbing pleasantries and briskly made his way across the banquet hall. Others who approached him received a similar kind but firm dismissal.

“These kinds of people always find something to gossip about, trust me.” You jumped, not expecting the sudden company. Least of all, you weren't expecting the head of the Kamisatio Clan to be the one to approach you. You look around at all the prying eyes and quickly compose yourself. You deeply bow to the man in front of you and state your name and status as a formal greeting. It felt strange since you were both so well acquainted as good friends. It was better to be safe than sorry in your opinion. You waited to be greeted back in a similar manner so that you could be released from your bow.... but there was only silence.

“Hah! There’s no need for that Y/N. You shouldn't feel the need to speak so formally to me for their sake.” Ayato's hand was slightly covering his mouth to stifle a few stray chuckles. You stood up properly and frowned at your friend in more embarrassment. Ayato sighed, amused, and leaned down to meet your eye level. “Really, there's no need for that. Besides, with how exquisite you look tonight, I should be the one honored.” The commissioner took a knee and placed a princely kiss upon your knuckles. Voices began to erupt around you two.

“Hm... Since everyone is going to be gossiping anyway, how about we give them something to talk about?” Ayato asked smoothly, his hand already leading you toward dance floor by the small of your back. 

Alhaitham

Alhaitham was only there because he was FORMALLY WARNED that he would be reprimanded if he missed another mandatory Akademiya event. 

The scribe was the definition of a party pooper. He sat in the corner with the best lighting and cracked open the book he had brought along. (This is the equivalent to being forced to go to an office Christmas party for this guy.) Any attempts to talk to him were either ignored or efficiently rudely turned away. 

The book became front once he finished it twice over. Alhaitham knew he should have brought a spare. To pass the time, he turned off his noise cancelling headphones and waited. People tended to say more when they thought you weren't listening. To his dismay... some conversations were just not worth listening to. The scribe became so bored he actually began his third re-read at some point. 

“Is it even allowed to wear something so....... adverse to an Akedemiya function? That has to be some sort of dress code violation.” Two scholars whispered to one another just within earshot. Ah, finally something interesting. 

Alhaitham spared a discreet glance from behind his book to the controversy of the hour. It was you... how unexpected. And how you were dressed, also unexpected. A quick glace had become more akin to appreciation. You stood defiantly confident in your body conforming emerald gown, meanwhile scholars were bending over backwards to avoid getting close at all costs. As if being associated with you would also get them a violation too.

The scribe shut his book since he had become interested enough in the situation to give his full attention. He had an idea what this was all about but this was definitely not the outcome he would have bet on. 

You had mentioned your annoyance with the Akedemiya’s dress code to him. You even submitted a few applications for an appeal. A couple even got approved through him before ultimately being rejected by the grand sage. It made no sense! Why were you being dress code on the exact shade of green you wore? Or that your attire had to be floor length? For archon’s sake you were even told your comfortable shoes were too dirty to be acceptable. And you definitely showed them. Alhaitham didn't bother hiding the way he eyed you over. And recalling the rules and regulation.... there’s technically nothing wrong with your outfit. Although, you were guaranteed to get an earful tomorrow by the sages. He decided with that alone that congratulations were in order.

“I must say, this a wonderfully scandalous way to prove your point.” Alhaitham mused while approaching you. You rolled your eyes at his comment and both relief and stress washed over your person. While thankful for some sort of company tonight, your antisocial colleague was the last person you expected to run into here. You greeted him stiffly while preparing yourself for the endless teasing sure to follow. Alhaitham had just enough respect for your efforts to hold his tongue for now. He instead held out his hand in an invitation, the hint of a smirk emerging across his features.

“You know, dancing is technically only 'frowned upon' at these kind of events. Care to piss off a few more old men?”

You guys were about to be in so much trouble...

<A/N: Another repost from my old blog!!! I love this one! The only things I changes were made for the better I think. I really gotta stop writing these at like 3Am and calling it a day. SOME OF THESE WERE SO CONFUSING BEFORE EDITING IT. Anyway thanks for the follows and likes I'mma keep on trucking these out. This was was particularly long so the rest should be faster. "should">

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII

Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: @weakling-grace did some fanart for the series that I absolutely adore! And I want you all to look at it. It’s on her blog, or reposted on mine under the tag How about a nuke? Summary: The wound’s infected. It shouldn’t be, but here you are anyway, barely holding on to life. You make it as far as you can and then it’s up to him to decide whether you get to live or die.

“Have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous woman in this room?” You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face even if you tried. 

“Only about a dozen times.” His hand reaches for yours across the table and you take it eagerly, linking your fingers together and enjoying the way his hazel eyes linger on yours. You could get lost in them, as cliche as it sounds. You and about every other woman in the world fell in love when you first saw those smiling eyes on the silver screen. 

“I’ll just have to tell you a dozen more.”

God, you would swoon if you could. But, unfortunately, you are in the middle of a very nice restaurant and you’re sure they wouldn’t enjoy your fainting spell. It’s not like you could help it, he was so effortlessly charming, everything he said with that rasping accent of his sounded like music to you. 

Your smile slipped slightly when you caught two women staring at you both. They weren’t even trying to hide it, pointing and whispering behind their hands. You clenched your jaw, trying your best not to let the anger show on your face. But he caught it anyway. 

Cooper dropped your hand and tucked his back in his lap. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, they caught his eye and gasped, stopping their cruel whispers. You opened your mouth to try and make him feel better but he interrupted you, “Hey-”

“I told you this was gonna happen sweetheart.” You hated how sad he sounded, how resigned he was to his new place in life. It was no secret that most of your fellow actors despised him now just because he did a few ad campaigns for Vault-Tec. But that didn’t mean the rest of the world did. There were still plenty of people who adored Cooper and asked for his autograph. 

Granted, those ladies clearly weren’t fans, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got spotted together in public and rumors started up again. You didn’t care what that meant about future roles. “I want to be with you, Coop, but I can’t keep having this same conversation over and over again.” You sighed and finally drew your hand back to yourself, he tracked the movement like a hawk. 

“If this is too much,” you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and put on a stilted smile. “If being with me in the public eye is too much then maybe we should-”

“Enough,” he reached back over and forced his hand into yours. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you.” He stopped you before you could interrupt him, giving you a knowing smile. “I know that you don’t care what being around me does to your career, but I do. There’s no reason for the both of us to be washed up celebrities.”

“Hey, you’re not washed up, plenty of people still want to see you on the silver screen.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and picking up his fork, “Let’s just enjoy our meal, sweetheart.”

“Pick up the pace! I’m not gonna wait for you forever, sweetheart.”

You glared at him and leaned on a tree for support. You’re not sure what’s going on. You feel hot under your skin but also like you’re freezing, you’d thrown up twice during night watch and you’re about five seconds away from keeling over. 

Your sweaty palm slips against the bark and you go sliding over. You hear his boots stomping through the grass before they stop in front of you. Rough hands steady your shoulders and shove you upright again. His eyes rove across your face, the muscles above his eyes turning down in concern. 

“Shit, you look like,” he trailed off, “well, to be perfectly honest you look like shit.”

You laughed but it came out strangled and he flinched back in disgust when you started coughing. “Good to know you’re still a gentleman, Cooper.” 

He sighed and led you over to a rotted log. You threw yourself down on it, wincing as it jarred your sensitive stomach. The gash was aching a lot more than it should. 

When you’d been shot, you could barely even feel it by this point. Now the wound was burning, itching so bad you just wanted to rip the stitches out with your bare hands. Your head rolls back and you clench your eyes shut as another wave of nausea goes through you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, rattling like a hummingbird in a cage. 

He kneels in front of you and reaches for your shirt. You lean back on your hands to give him better access. “Stimpak should have worked by now,” he mutters. He pulls your shirt higher up on your abdomen and hisses through his teeth. 

“What is it?” Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words come out garbled. 

“Shit!” He yanks your shirt down and reaches for your bag, digging through it until he finds another one of the Stimpaks you’d taken. 

You’d be more panicked if your head wasn’t floating right now. “What is it?” He doesn’t answer you, he hovers the injector over his mouth and lets the medicine shoot in. You wince when he immediately turns to spit it into the grass. 

He wipes the back of his mouth and chuckles. “Should’ve fucking known,” he mutters. He goes through the rest of the supplies you’d grabbed and starts chucking them further into the forest. 

You’re getting pissed off now. Pissed off and worried, you just needed him to talk to you, tell you what’s going on. “Cooper!” You snap, hand clutched over the burning wound on your stomach. He sighs and looks up at you. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“Fakes,” he says, mouth set in a firm line and eyes hard against your worried gaze. “See, darlin’, some people like the men we met last night hand out fake supplies.” If you weren’t so worried you’d be mad about how condescending he sounds. 

“They take empty injectors and fill ‘em with chems to keep people sick and coming back to them. It’s a steady income,” he says, like it’s a respectable career. “Your wound is infected, probably only worsened by whatever chem they put in the Stimpak I stuck you with.”

Your eyes are wide with horror. You can’t decide what’s worse, that you’ve essentially been poisoned and are probably experiencing sepsis right now. Or that people were capable of being so cruel and profited off of it. He pulls your canteen out of your bag and unscrews the cap. He holds the water up to your nose, “Sniff.” You do and he waves his hand, prompting you to tell him what exactly you smelled. 

“Smells like metal,” you shrug, not sure what that means. 

“Infected and you’ve got rad poisoning.” At your confused glance he continues, “Water’s not purified either, sweetheart. Whatever you got is about to get a hundred times worse.” When he turns his back to put the water back in your bag you finally risk a glance down at your stomach. 

You wished you hadn’t because you’re immediately bending over to throw up what was left of your rations. The skin has swelled over the stitches, practically swallowing the black thread. The place the knife went in is red and puckered, pus forming at the corners. The sides of your stomach have an odd green tint that you’re trying not to think about too hard, most likely a side effect of whatever chem you’d been dosed with. 

He presses the canteen into your hand and you shake your head from where it is between your knees. “Can’t, radiation.”

He laughs, the sound unkind, “It’s a bit late for that, honey.” You snatch the water out of his hand and gulp down as much as you can stomach. It’s not much, the taste of the water is too metallic and bitter for you. “The place we’re going, they’ve got medicine. We get you there and I’m sure I can work something out with them.”

You know what that really means. He’ll get paid for his bounty and then he’ll get what he wants, whether they offer it freely or not. “If I get there,” you mutter, still holding back the rest of your breakfast. 

“Enough,” he snaps. His hand wraps around your elbow and he yanks you to your feet. “We need to get a move on, power through.” If you had the strength, you’d slap him again. 

“Here you go,” he placed a bowl down on the coffee table, steam still wisping over the edge. He sat down beside you on your couch and brushed some hair away from your face and you leaned into the warmth of his palm. You were freezing but he seemed to think you were burning up. 

“Did you make me soup?” Your voice is groggy with sleep. He helps you into a sitting position and hands you the bowl. 

“No,” he laughs a little and leans back against the cushions, arm spreading out behind you and pulling you into him. “But I warmed it up for you.”

“Cooper,” you whisper. 

“Get a move on!” He shouts from a couple yards ahead. “You either move your ass or I’ll leave you here, because I’m sure as shit not carrying you.”

Oh shit. 

Hallucinating is never a good sign. You would swear on everything above that you were just on your couch with Cooper. You could still feel the warmth of the bowl in your hands, the old plush fabric of your couch on your cheeks. 

You swallowed down bile and did your best to catch up to him. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the fog over your eyes, but it didn’t help much. It took you a minute to realize it was from the sweat dripping down your brow and burning against your retinas that was causing the problem. 

You glanced around, surprised to find yourself surrounded by sand. Weren’t you just in the forest? You lifted a shaking hand to try and get rid of the glare of the sun. He was walking closer to you now, keeping a keener eye on you. You trip over your own feet for the inth time and try to keep pushing yourself. 

“Any chance we could dim those?” You squint and point up to the lights hanging above the set and one of the PA’s runs off to fulfill your request. You shake your boots out, tired of all the sand that’s been getting in them. You understand you’re meant to be chasing an outlaw through the “Wild West” but this is getting ridiculous. 

You’ve done about a hundred retakes of this scene, you’re not sure when the director is going to admit defeat but you hope it’s soon. You don’t know why the studio is even bothering to do cowboy stuff anymore. Everyone knows since Coop was forced out of the industry no one’s wanted to see these types of movies. 

The actor you’re working with this time is a dick. He’s commanding and rude, he’s got no sense of boundaries either. Or a nose. 

What the fuck?

He stands over top of you and you finally realize that you’ve collapsed into the sand. You let your head fall back and rub your forehead. One second you’re on a set and the next you’re in the Wastelands at the end of the world. You’re struggling to remember which version of reality is real and which isn’t. 

“I mean it,” he threatens, “I ain’t carrying you.” Your hand flops uselessly to your side, muscles fatigued and the burning in your gut sucking the energy out of you. The only part of yourself you’re physically aware of is the stab, you can’t feel anything else. You can’t twitch your toes or wiggle your fingers, everything is off kilter. “Alright then,” he leans down and yanks your arm over his shoulder. 

Before you’re processing what’s happening the world is being tilted on its axis and you’re being hauled to your feet. You don’t remember much about traveling through the sands. Everything is one long blur of red and orange. When the air in front of you starts to get wavy your eyes lose focus and you black out.

She nearly made it. They’re only about an hour away from this compound he’s been trying to get her to. He sighs, looking down at her prone form in the sand. There’s sweat beading along her forehead, her lips are cracked and split and her face has an unusual tint to it that can’t mean anything healthy. 

He squats down next to her and debates how he wants to go about this. The wound on her stomach has only gotten worse since they started walking, it’s just looking angrier and angrier. With how infected it is, it’s possible that even a stimpak might not help her now. 

He could leave her here, get the bounty, and go on his merry way. He could shoot her, put her out of her misery and leave. Or he could throw her over his shoulder and walk the last hour to the compound, hoping that whatever they have there will help. No matter what choice he makes, it’s her life in his hands. 

His hand drifts forward, brushing the hair off her cheek and lingering on the soft skin there. He sighs before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder, she whines, her wound rubbing against his shoulder and probably causing her a heap of pain. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, though, as long as she was feeling something that was a good sign. 

“Nearly there, sweetheart,”; he muttered. He tuned into her shallow breathing, the long pauses before her next breath and let that be what keeps him going. She better not fucking die on him. He grunts, shifting her higher up on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around her legs. 

He could feel how hot she was through each layer of their clothing. This was more than just the sun, she seemed like she was about to combust. “Cooper,” she whimpers. He frowns, she’s been muttering to herself since they left the forest. Talking about things that weren’t possible. 

He’s seen it before, with infection or rad poisoning, the hallucinations start pretty early. Only problem is, he’s never met anyone who lasted as long as her. She should have been dead hours ago. He has no idea what’s keeping her going, but she better fucking hold onto it. 

You laughed, your dress swirling around your legs like a blooming red flower as he spun you through the room. His hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you back into his chest. You smiled at him and he reached up to brush the hair out of your face. 

Sinatra’s smooth voice cracked and then began to stutter. You laughed again but Cooper just rolled his eyes and walked over to fix the record. You smoothed out your dress and sat down on his couch, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table. 

You took a sip, hoping for some liquid courage, and regretted it. You’d momentarily forgotten your distaste for alcohol. You tried to fight the tickle in your throat but failed, you probably ruined your lipstick with how hard you started to cough. 

He walked over to you and chuckled, taking his glass from your hands and stealing a swig. “Can’t handle your liquor, honey?”

“I can,” you wiped your mouth and gave him a playful glare. “That just tastes absolutely disgusting.” He smiled and took a seat beside you, arm draped behind you. He crossed a leg over his knee and titled himself to face you. You found yourself taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the question you were going to ask.

“Everything alright?”

You glanced down at your dress and fiddled with the hem of it. “I know the divorce was finalized a few days ago,” Cooper looked away from you, his face hardening, and reached forward to place his glass back on the table. Your heart leapt into your throat at the way he slammed it down. Maybe this was a mistake. 

You know when Barb came over to pick up Janey yesterday they’d gotten into a fight. You didn’t know what exactly it was they fought about, you’re pretty sure it had to do with you. But it didn’t truly matter. She always found a way to rile him up. You’d been hoping that coming by tonight might make him feel a little better,  but he still seemed to have a residual tenseness to him. 

Bringing the divorce up after one of their fights isn’t smart. But you need to talk about this and he’s been avoiding the conversation for a while now. 

He ran a hand down his face and sighed, “What about it?” 

“I was just wondering what that means for us?”

He scoffed and glanced over at you. The look he’s giving you, you’re certain the fight was about you now. He’s never looked this angry with you, “For us?” You nodded and he shook his head, standing up and heading towards his room. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart stuttered in your chest, eyes burning as he slammed the door to his room without another word. You let your head fall into your hands and took a few deep breaths. You knew you shouldn’t have asked that. 

“That was a mistake,” you muttered. 

“The hell are you telling yourself back there?” Your eyes peeled open and you frowned, you seemed to be looking at something that looked a hell of a lot like Cooper’s backside. You tilted your head to the side to find the world upside down and something stabbing repeatedly in your stomach. 

You clawed your way up Cooper’s jacket, shakily holding yourself up so you could stare down at him. “Settle,” he warns, like you’re a damn horse. 

“Put me down,” you mutter, weakly kicking out your feet and trying to get off of him. He just shakes his head and shoves you back down. You let him, not having much fight left in you anyway. 

“Just,” he pauses, “keep dreamin’,” the words seem to pain him and you wonder why. You don’t linger on it long, letting your head hang against his back before the world is going dark again. 

She keeps muttering Cooper in her sleep. He knows what she’s thinking about. Their old times together, when everything was just dandy and the world was as sweet as peaches. Well, he wasn’t some saint back then neither. He had his own problems, vices, same as any man. 

Only difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Doesn’t have to worry about the public’s opinion or how his job will be affected if he speaks his mind. Cooper’s no better than the Ghoul. 

He sighs, barely even believing himself. She whimpers in her sleep, the noise strangled and pained. He squeezes her leg, barely even noticing the action, in an attempt to bring some minute form of comfort. She never should have dived in front of that blade, it was stupid of her. 

Course, she couldn’t have known that he would have healed, it’s not like he ever told her that. But she shouldn’t have risked it anyway, he wasn’t worth her dying for.

He can see a large building about a mile ahead as he crests the ridge of the dune he’s walking on. The compound, nearly there. “Hold on,” he’s not sure who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter. She’s made it this far, she’ll make it a few more minutes.

“Stop right there!” Only one armed guard comes out from behind the gate of the compound. He scoffs, fucking amateurs. He drops her to the ground at his feet with as much care as he can, which isn’t a lot. Slowly, he raises his hands as the guard approaches, the tip of his rifle pressing into the hardened skin of his chest. “State your business.”

Well, someone liked making themself feel important, he was gonna have a field day beating this boy black and blue. For now, he simply smiled at him, unbothered by the gun. “I’ve got a bounty to deliver.”

“Alright, hand it over.” He reached into his pockets and the boy’s trigger finger twitched dangerously. He pulled out the only thing they’d wanted from the body, dog tags, and held them out for the boy to take. He darted forward, trying to snatch them but he yanked them out of the guard’s grip. 

He lunged, wrapping a hand around the barrel of the rifle and yanking it out of the kid’s hands. He tucked the tags back in his pocket and pointed the barrel into the boy’s chest. His face blanched and he held up his shaky hands. “Not so big now, are you?” He kept the gun trained on him and leaned down to scoop her back up. 

She was just cognizant enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, keeping herself steady. “My friend here needs help. So help me boy, I swear if you fight me, I’ll slaughter everyone in that fucking place and just take what I want.”

He poked the gun into the boy’s chest and he jumped away from him with a frightened little whimper. With a grin, he bullied him into unlocking the gate and leading the both of them inside. 

“Please-”

“Shut the fuck up and get me inside.” It didn’t take long, the kid seemed to be the only guard they had patrolling right now. He led the pair inside the compound and then shoved them inside a room. 

“Here, you can clean her up here.” Before he could say anything the boy was running down the hall and out of sight. He figured they didn’t have long before the rest of the compound was alerted to what was going on. 

He knew enough about the place to know they had a water purifier set up in the back and some odd little ditty they’d created to use water to generate power. Having a radiated ocean behind them was a lot more convenient than Cooper ever would have thought. 

“Alright,” he propped her up on the bed and threw the boy’s rifle to the side. “Wake up, darling,” her eyelashes fluttered but she didn’t move. He used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to her clammy head. Still burning up. He cracked his hand across her cheek, chuckling at the way her eyes flew open. 

“Come on,” he hoisted her up and shoved her towards the bathroom in the room. There were holes in the wall, the faucet was really a metal can with holes poked in it, but it was running water. Who was he to complain? He propped her up against the sink and cranked the odd lever in the wall. There was a loud rattling sound before water came pouring out of the rusted can. “Clean yourself up,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Barely a minute later he heard a loud crash and the sound of porcelain cracking. He ran back into the bathroom and found her half collapsed against the shower wall. What was left of the decrepit sink was broken on the ground, only the faucet sticking out of the wall. He sighed and looked over at her. 

“I fell,” she muttered, a million little cuts bleeding on her arms. 

He sighed and tugged his hat and gloves off, tossing them onto the bed outside. He came back in, pulling her away from the shower and straightening her up. She clung onto him, broken nails digging dully into his scarred arms. “Come on, sweetheart,” he tugged her shirt up, her arms slipping limply out of it. 

Her wound was practically festered by now, turning a color that he knew meant she didn’t have much time to waste. He undid the button of her pants and knelt down, hands dragging down her legs and pulling her pants with them. She stepped out, hands braced on his shoulders and tripped slightly. He grabbed her thighs, steadying her and stood back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from falling and leading her into the shower. 

She sighed as the tepid water hit her back and he grimaced at the brown water pouring off of her. Maybe he should have let her clean up in that lake. He didn’t do much to help her as she cleaned herself up, mainly just stood there and let her hold onto him so she didn’t hurt herself further. 

He cupped the back of her neck and helped her tilt her head back to clean out the rest of her hair. It was odd, being this close to her. Less because of how stark naked she was, and more because of just how vulnerable she was being. Like a deer rolling over and presenting its neck to a wolf. He could do anything to her, and she just let him hold her like this. 

She leaned forward, clearly tired after moving around so much. Her head fell into his chest and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. She sighed, “I love you, Cooper.”

He flinched, knowing this was just a part of her delirium. Having running water for once was probably just confusing her more, making her think she was right back home. He leaned forward, lips pressed against her forehead and brushing some hair back. “No you don’t, darling.”

There was a knock on the door and he was quick to draw his gun. The door opened and a middle aged woman flanked by two guards stood smiling at him. She took in the gun in his hand but seemed unbothered by it or the threat he posed. “I hear you two need some help.”

“Mhm,” he glanced at the guards behind her but they didn’t seem particularly interested in reaching for their weapons. The woman took her in from where she lay on the bed, panting and sounding like she was struggling to get her breaths in. “I have a bounty to turn in, figured part of my payment could be you giving us a Stimpak. Then, we’ll be out of your hair.”

She laughed and took a step further into the room. He stood up now, gun pointed towards her slightly. She ignored him and took a peek at the festering wound. “She’ll need a lot more than a Stimpak. We can clean her up, don’t worry.” He didn’t get a chance to argue before the guards were coming in. He stepped out of the way as they grabbed you by the arms and legs, hauling you out of the room. 

He made to follow them but the woman placed a hand on his chest. ���Sylvie, I run the compound. The bounty?”

He sighed and fished the dog tags out of his pocket, passing them to her. He glanced out the door, trying to track the path they took you down. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”

He laughed and glanced over at her, “No offense, ma’am,” he says the title with a lack of respect that makes her brows furrow in irritation, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s not to trust anyone. No matter how pretty their promises are.”

She gave him a long look before smiling and motioning back towards the hall. “Follow me and we’ll go find her.”

They had a decent set up here. Not as nice as the vaults, clearly, but pretty good for surface dwellers. A decent supply of meds and rations, running water. Everything in the building might be run down or covered in mildew, with cracks in the wall, but it was better than the hovels he’d camped out in. 

They’ve got her set up on cot, a bag of Radaway hooked up to her arm and her hair braided away from her face. They had to cut out the stitches he’d sewed and open the wound back up to flush it out. She’d been patched back up and while the skin still looked irritated it seemed to be doing a lot better than before. 

He’d been keeping a close eye on her breathing and she’d finally stopped wheezing on every inhale. He figured another hour here and they could get the fuck out. These people were starting to bother him. Every half hour or so they would come in to check on her, the women would spray some water on her face and mutter something before running back out. 

He seemed to scare them, enjoying the way they would avoid meeting his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to keep them away from her. Their insistence should’ve had alarm bells going off in his head, but he was already preoccupied worrying about her. He didn’t even notice when Slyvie came to stand beside him. 

“She’ll be alright,” she tried to place a hand on his shoulder but the look he shot her had her stopping short. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and tucked her hands back behind her back. He gave her another long look before going back to staring at the girl on the bed. 

“We have a place for her here, if you’re interested.”

He scoffed, “Room for us, huh?” He let himself picture it for a moment. He wouldn’t fucking stay, of course, he couldn’t. There’s no way, after two hundred years of wandering, that he could be locked down to one decaying old building. Showers or no. But he could always come by to visit her, stay a few nights and then leave again. 

That’s assuming she’d even want him to visit. Didn’t matter, he’d come anyway. But, he couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t live that life even if it would be temporary. It just wasn’t in him. He stayed stagnant for too long and two hundred years of bloodshed and loss would drive him insane. 

Sylvie shook her head and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. We have room for her, you have to understand, without a steady supply of Radaway we can’t risk having a ghoul here.” She moved towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, “Think about it.” She walked out and he stared blankly at the cot. 

She shifted on the bed, face pained and mumbling something under her breath. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “Coop? What’s,” she trailed off, struggling to sit up and glancing around the room they were in. “What’s going on?”

“Relax, we’re at the compound.”

She rubbed her forehead and glared at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

He swatted her leg and she recoiled, “No, smartass. Just relax, we’ll be out of here soon.” She nodded and leaned back against the pillows they’d given her. It was odd, finally seeing her clean again. He could see clearly just how tired she looked. It was in her eyes, mainly, a weariness towards the world that left her exhausted. 

He’s surprised she’s even made it this far without giving up. She’d been dealt some shit luck, but he supposed it was better she be exposed to how cruel the world was as quickly as possible. She groaned and her head flopped forward. 

“What’s wrong with you now?” 

“God,” she muttered, turning her face away from him and shaking her head. He huffed and sat up straight, glaring at the side of her face. 

“Talk,” he demanded, not in the mood for games. 

“I meant it,” she sounded pained, like the words had to be forced out. “I mean, I hate that I meant it, but I did.”

He rolled his eyes, “Meant what? You’re gonna have to be a little clearer than that, sweetheart.”

“What I said in the shower. I meant it. I haven’t stopped loving you, despite how much I want to. I don’t want to want you anymore, I don’t want that connection to the past to constantly be shoved down my throat.” She sighed and tugged at the braid they’d given her. “You’re cruel and mean and, fuck’s sake, you’ve shot me twice. But you’re also the only thing I’ve got left, and despite how much I want to, because trust me I do, I can’t let you go.”

He sighed and turned away from her. She was still tired, still a bit woozy from the fever. He could see the sweat on her forehead again and knew that whatever this was, was just drug induced. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her wanting him like this again. 

Being around her already made him vulnerable enough. Whatever twisted connection he held to her now, would be nothing compared to letting her love him again. Two hundred years on his own and she thought she could just come barreling back into his life and everything would be lovely again?

No, that’s not how this world worked. Not anymore. 

He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get back to sleep, we’ll leave soon.”

She sighed and sank back against the pillows, shivering as she did so. “You’ll be here?”

“Of course I will, sweetheart.” She nodded, eyes already drifting shut, and turned away from him. He let himself admire her, taking in her relaxed features and soft expression. She reminded him so much of before. Before the world went to shit and before he turned into what he is now. 

He could feel parts of him, the ones he’d buried a long time ago, come up around her. Twisted as they were, how he felt about her before still lingered somewhere within him. But he couldn’t afford the risk that they presented if he did let her back in. He wasn’t even sure she could fully handle him if he did. 

She’d nearly died about five times, most of them because of him, and she’d been up here for such a short time. She’d be better off without him. He walked towards the door, the spurs of his boots clicking against the tile of the floor. He found Sylvie lurking a few halls down and whistled, getting her attention. 

Sylvie turned to him with an expectant smile. “You got room?”

She nodded with an eager smile, “We do. And you’d be compensated, of course.” Before he could question what exactly she was paying him for she snapped her fingers and some guards approached. They handed him a bag that he quickly rifled through. Not only was there enough Radaway to last him at least a month, there was purified water and rations that would keep him going until the next bounty. 

She’ll be better off here. 

He tucked the bag away and smiled at Sylvie, “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”

She gave him a lecherous grin, “You as well,” she nodded and the guards escorted him to the gate. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he’d just want to go get her. At least now he didn’t have to constantly worry about saving her ass. 

He was better off on his own. Always had been, always would be. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[chronically-ghosted]

Hey I love you and I’m having thots about vampire!Dieter and his hedonistic lifestyle and his lavish parties at his estate and how he invites you up to show you his private rooms and he-

Oh, you mean like when he asks you about your--

Pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

Warnings: flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

A/N: look at what you've done @sp00kymulderr you've gone and given a perfectly good fic LORE

“Theories.”

“What?” 

Dieter’s smirk pulls his mouth and his head towards the floor-to-ceiling windows. He rubs his fingers together, his wrist dangling over the edge of the deep-backed leather chair. The clean lines of his Armani pants and wing-tipped shoes give him the impression of leaning forward, as if he intended to tumble right through those windows and out into the party below. The music is muted, smothered, but the lights illuminate the sky like the sun beneath the waves. 

“Your theories. About all of this. About my dad, granddad. Everyone who’s ever walked in here – press or not –,” he lazily drags his gaze up from your ass to your tits for the third time that night, “– has had some wild theories that I just love to listen to. Little bedtime stories to put me to sleep. So let’s hear ‘em.”

You had doubts about this dress when you left your apartment but you have to dig your nails into your palms to keep from tugging it back down over your thighs because you know you have something every time Dieter looks at you. Maybe not for long, but you might be the first person in fifty years to walk out of here with something to say.

Your heart suddenly fluttering higher in your throat, you turn away towards the movie memorabilia lining the walls in glass shelves to give him the angle he’s been inching towards all night. Over your shoulder, you see his eyes drop – predictably. You let the line out a bit more and bend at the waist to examine the original glove from The Natural. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard them all, Mr. Bravo. The mystery around your family is nearly as old as Hollywood itself so I’m sure there’s nothing I can say that you haven’t heard before. Which reminds me . . .” You straighten up and, by some miracle, he meets your eyes, gaze no longer wandering. “Why me?” 

His mouth curls, but it’s the glint in his eyes that shows razor-sharp teeth. 

“I’ve always admired the brevity of wit, but you’re going to have to be more specific.”

Your jacket creaks when you cross your arms, eyebrow arched. “I’ve been with The Mezzanine for five years with half-a-dozen bylines under my belt. There’s a list of more experienced reporters a mile long. Why, after ignoring every press inquiry for the past twenty years, did you ask me to interview you? Oh, and consider this my first official question.” 

With an expansive inhale, Dieter draws himself to his feet. He takes a few steps towards the windows, just before the light catches the shine of his shoes. 

“Give me a theory and I’ll answer your question.”

You frown at his broad shoulders. Streaks of fuschia and green and gold tangle in his curls, setting the ends on fire. You think of those electric lamps under your grandfather’s porch that drew in moths with dust brown wings. Moths that ended up dead on the wooden floor. 

You find yourself inches from his left shoulder. 

“That’s not how these things usually go, Mr. Bravo.” 

“Humor the old hermit.” He grins and the smell of spice and smoke and lineage blooms in your nose. You school your face, swallowing down your beating heart. 

“The mob. So why me?”

Dieter chuckles. “The mob?”

“Happened to Frank Sinatra, didn’t it?”

“I don’t appreciate the comparison,” Dieter sneers. “Blue Eyes was an asshole and an idiot.”

You turn towards him, your turn to grin. ��Speaking from personal experience?”

“Yes, actually.” 

“Unbelievable.” You roll your eyes and wander back towards the cabinet. It’s now you notice the odd placement of the couch and chairs in front of the memorabilia. As if hours were spent staring at them. “Do you have anything to drink?”

Dieter blinks at you. “Uh. No. Do you want me to call up for one?”

“No, Mr. Bravo, I want you to answer my question: why me?”

“Because you care.”

Dieter turns away from the lights, the music, the night and stares at you. The teasing sparkle, the sardonic grin – they’re gone. A different man stands before you – one with the same beautiful set of curls, with the same soft eyes. But you see something on his face you didn’t think was possible: yearning. 

“Everyone who ever came here only wanted a piece of me. Of this. Of my legacy. In fifty years, no one has ever wanted to know the magic in the movies. The magic of . . .” Dieter laughs quietly, joylessly. He looks around and runs his tongue against his upper teeth. “The mob? C’mon, you can do better than the mob.”

You take a step forward. Electric lamps be damned.

“I’m doing a terrible job of interviewing you.”

“Hardly.” His lips pout before pulling back into a grin. “We’re getting to know each other.”

Another step. 

“One for one?”

“Of course.”

“Then in debt to the US government for World War II propaganda. Why did your grandfather step out of the spotlight at the peak of his career?”

“Ford was as much a nazi as any of them and no Bravo would ever stoop so low, so no. And Grandpappy Bravo had health issues.”

“He was forty-five.”

“Forty-two, actually. The same age I am now.” He grins down at you and you find yourself staring up at him. Had his eyes always had that golden circle in the center?

“Give me another theory.”

“Drugs – boring but reliable. Why was your father so secretive about his role as a financial backer during the 60s movie revival?”

“He hated the attention, as much as a Bravo can. You’re getting closer.”

“It was drugs?” You tear your gaze that had somehow slipped to his lips back up to his eyes, but Dieter shakes his head.

“A drug of some kind, but not the kind you’re thinking of. A powerful drug. The most powerful.”

“Yeah? And what would that be?”

“Life itself.” Again, you see his teeth and without your control, your heart leaps into your throat. You narrow your eyes against the brilliant light of his mouth.

“Why do you care so much about my theories?”

“Because you’re not asking the right questions. You’re close, but not quite.” 

His hand floats against your jaw, fingertips crackling in the millimeter above your skin, and that spicy scent floods your brain in a sudden avalanche that makes your knees wobble. You huff, dizzy, a fog settling across your mind, and you put a hand against his chest to keep you from stumbling. His thumb drags against your bottom lip and that bright sensation becomes a focus point by which the entire universe revolves around. 

His eyes are entirely golden now.

“Ask the question you’ve been begging to, darling.”

You swallow through the haze, through the pounding of your heart, through the heaviness of your knees, and the wetness in your underwear. 

“No,” you mumble, “I . . . Dieter, you’ll laugh.”

“Try me, sweetheart.” His other hand joins his first, cradling your jaw, dragging you closer. “I want to hear it.”

“I think you’re a vampire.” The words dribble off your numb lips but even through the lag, you know you’ve screwed up. Something has gummed up the crevices of your brain, but that’s not the thing to say to the highly-eccentric social recluse you’ve put your career at risk to interview. 

“Dieter, I’m sorry – I-I-I didn’t mean–,”

But he laughs. Laughs and your moth wings get caught in the light of the white gleam of his fangs. His hand slips to your waist as his thumb brushes your cheek, golden eyes anything but angry.

“I knew you were clever.” 

Your nails dig into his jacket where you don’t feel a heartbeat. Your knees want you to fall forward into him, but your elbows struggle as the last shreds of a survival instinct. 

“Dieter–,”

“Shh, darling, you are smart. Too smart for your own good. You knew the truth the second you walked in here and you did it anyway. But that big brain won’t let you believe it until you see it, so breathe, darling. Breath and it will be over in a minute.”

He lowers his face, his cold breath against your neck cracking through the haze, icing your heart. You whimper, afraid –

Afraid he’s going to kill you.

Afraid that you’ll let him.

A warm tongue saturates the skin of your neck and you realize there are devil faces in the wood carving of the ceiling, your head tipped back and arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

“No crying. I will make this very good for you.” 

You blink and the ice in your heart melts out the corner of your eyes, tears running off your cheeks.

“Will I die?”

Dieter lets out a noise that’s a whine and a groan all at once. “No. We’re not nearly done having fun.”

And he bites you.

Euphoria erupts across your skin, an electric pulse waking up every sense still left in your control. You shudder, then draw him closer. He groans, not a single drop of blood escaping to the carpet or your shirt or his jacket. He eats well and clean and there’s a part of you that entertains the idea of him losing control. 

But as quickly as it comes on, everything fades. Blackness comes on, thick and fast, and you hear him pull off your neck more than you feel it and his tongue is the last sensation you feel. 

“No, darling, by the end of this, you’ll be begging me for more.”

His promise is the last thing you hear before the darkness closes in on you completely. 

+

[theemissuniverse]

“STAY WITH ME” MILEENA X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Mileena is worried about you. After the events that led up to Armageddon, you made it a priority to always be on patrol. (Also reader is immune to the tarkat disease because I said so). You’re also an Earthrealmer in this technically but live in Outworld with Mileena

WARNINGS : MINORS DONT INTERACT. I’m not typing all that. It’s lesbian smut. Read it or don’t

Mileena first thought it was endearing. The way you vowed to protect her. She couldn’t help but feel loved. Truly cared for. Now, she found it obsessive.

You would not go to sleep with her. You would instead help patrol the palace at night and even during the day.

Mileena wanted to snuggle with you. She wanted to care for you. She wanted to lay in your arms and for you to play with her long brown hair.

You wouldn’t though. It was like after her mother’s death, you became obsessed with protecting her. She had to put a stop to this.

Mileena was in her bra and underwear, getting ready for bed. When she walked out of the bathroom, she had seen you gathering your weapons and placing them on your arsenal.

She sighed at this. “Darling, you don’t have to go. The other guards will be fine with protecting the palace.” You were so in tune to what you were doing, you didn’t hear her. Mileena snapped her fingers to get your attention and you broke out of your trance. “Hello! Outworld to (Y/N)! Do you not hear me talking to you?”

You looked at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Alright, baby. I’m about to go out.”

You walked past her and that’s when Mileena drew the line. Mileena turned to face you, your back facing her. “As your Empress, I forbid you to go out there. There. I said it.”

Your hand was touching the doorknob. You let out a sigh and removed your hand before turning to face her. “Really? You’re going to pull the ‘Empress’ card on me?”

“When is the last time you slept or ate?” Mileena questioned you.

You shrugged, not really caring. “Why does it matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter? What wouldn’t you matter?”

“Mileena, I’ll say this the nicest way possible but you’re acting crazy.”

You went to open the door to leave her. Tears filled Mileena’s eyes. She felt as though she was not being heard of seen. She thought you of all people would understand her.

“I get it. My mother died and you’re scared that the same will happen to me. Do you not think I fear for that too? Not only do I fear that it will happen - I fear that my lover will die as well. You keep putting yourself in positions, positions that are disastrous and I can’t keep standing here. I can keep watching it happen.”

You didn’t look at her. Your hand was steady on the doorknob but by her cries it loosened. It took a lot for Mileena to show you emotion. You knew that. So, that meant she was truly scared.

Then she said the three words. Something she had never said at least out loud to you. “I love you.”

It was at that point in time, you turned your head in her direction. You saw the tears escaping her eyes. You not only felt bad but felt an overwhelming sensation of love suffocate your heart.

You walked up to her and instantly kissed her. Mileena kissed you back by wrapping her arms around your neck.

The kiss continued for some time until you both pulled away. You stared in each other’s eyes like time stopped itself.

“I love you too.” You wiped away the tears that were rushing down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to protect you. I always want to protect you.”

“Show me how much you love me.”

Mileena’s fingers traveled to the belt of your jeans. She started to undo the belt with your arsenal on it and you just watched as she did so.

She slid the belt off of you and onto the floor. “I need you, (Y/N).”

You knew what that meant. You lifted her chin up and brought her into a slow, sweet kiss. As you did so, you removed your jacket and threw it on the floor.

Mileena didn’t break the kiss when she helped pull your pants down, leaving you in your underwear.

She pushed you gently on the bed and got on top of you. The two of you continued kissing when your hand went inside her panties and you started to play with her clit.

Mileena moaned against your lips. She tried to remove your hand from her. “I want to please you.”

There was no stopping you though. You made her lay on her side and you continued kissing her. You didn’t break your pace on her clit and kept rubbing it in circles.

Mileena kept moaning in your mouth, letting you slip your tongue in. The two of you tongue wrestled each other.

When you felt that she was wet enough, you stuck two fingers in her. Your index and middle. Then you began to pump in and out of her.

“Oh, (Y/N).”

Mileena went inside your underwear and started to rub your clit too. You moaned against her lips a little. You weren’t as vocal as her when it came to intimacy. (Which she hated.)

Mileena rubbed your clit in circles but at a faster pace than you ever could. “Oh, shit.” You said. Her applying pressure to your clit made you break your pace a little.

She realized this and just made you lay back on the bed. Mileena broke away from the kiss. She then grabbed your underwear and took them off for you.

Mileena took off her bra leaving her completely naked up top. You played with her breasts and rubbed at her nipples making her throw her head back at pleasure.

She took her own underwear off before holding your leg up a little. She then positioned herself where her clit connected with yours.

You moaned at the sensation. Mileena began to move at a steady pace. “Damn, you look so good.” You told her.

Mileena moaned in response. She brought her body even closer so she could feel your clit more. “Oh, (Y/N). Yes.”

Your hands gripped Mileena’s hips. You helped Mileena move on you back and forth like your life depended on it.

“Just like that, baby. Mmm. Don’t stop.” You told her. Mileena gripped on your thighs. You were absolutely beautiful to her.

Mileena played with her breasts, giving you a show. You licked your lips at the sight and it made you grip harder on her hips.

Your fingernails dug into her hips which she loved. “Oh, I missed this, darling.” She told you with a slight pant.

You flipped the both of you over so that way you were on top of her. You then placed your clit on top of hers and went back at the pace.

Mileena usually was the more dominant one but she was at your complete mercy. “Yes. Please don’t stop. I need you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t break your pace as you rubbed all on her body, taking in her beauty. It still amazed you how you ended up with an Empress.

“Fuck…” You mumbled to yourself. You watched as her breasts bounced up and down making you inch closer to your release.

“Oh yes, (Y/N). Yes.” Mileena grabbed onto your hips, making you move faster.

“Damn. I’m close.”

When Mileena heard you say that, she turned you two over once more. Mileena was back on top while you were underneath her.

Mileena ripped open your shirt, including your bra, with her strength. Once your breasts were free, she started to play with them.

Your hands darted to her ass and you gave it a smack which resulted in her moaning loudly. “Your pussy feels so good.” Mileena complimented. She grabbed one of your hands and placed it on her chest. “You want to cum on me, lover?”

You tilted your head back at her dirty talk. “Chill, Mileena. I don’t want to cum before you.”

It was always a game to see who would cum first between you two. No prize really just satisfaction. Mileena smirked at your words slightly and she noticed you were playing with her left breast. “Oh come on baby. Cum on my pussy. I know you can do it.”

You fought hard to not cum but the release was reaching to your stomach. “Oh fuck. Mileena.”

“That’s right. Cum all over me. Say my name.”

You tried to move her but she overpowered you and continued to go at her fast pace. “Mileena. Yes. Oh my god.”

With you moaning, it made Mileena edge to her release. She instinctively grabbed onto her breasts and kept going. “(Y/N). Yes. I need you.”

You realized that Mileena was losing her pace. You gripped her hips and helped her move back and forth on you. “Aw. Don’t give up on me now, baby. You’re almost there.”

“Oh my gods. (Y/N), yes. Please let me cum on you.” Mileena begged while playing with her breasts. You tried to shut your eyes hoping that maybe if you didn’t look at Mileena, you wouldn’t cum faster but that didn’t really work.

Mileena placed her hands on your stomach and in that moment it felt like fire. The two of you kept going and that’s when it started to wash over you. “(Y/N), yes. Yes, yes. I’m cumming.”

You made sure to open your eyes so you could watch your girlfriend cum. Your right hand reached her breast and you played with her nipple. “Give it to me, baby.”

“Oh my gods. You’re so amazing. I love you. Yes. (Y/N).” You felt Mileena’s clit start to come undone and it made you cum.

The two of you let off a stream of profanities as you rode out your orgasms. Mileena bent down to kiss your lips and you kissed her back.

When she pulled away, you gave her light butterfly kisses on her neck. “I love you too.”

Mileena lifted your chin so you were facing her. “I’m still hungry.” She crawled down to you and made you spread your legs before starting to eat you out.

“Damn Mileena.” You moaned out. Your hands went in her hair and you started tugging at it.

This was going to be a long night.

[ateotd-izzy]

anti-hero | joel dawson x fem!reader

“i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving and life will lose all its meaning”

after everything that had happened to you over the last 7 years in the literal apocalypse, you’ve developed some serious issues with trust.

“it’s me, hi, i’m the problem, it’s me”

and maybe a few insecurities too. but that could just be your fault.

“at tea time everybody agrees”

so when you and your boyfriend joel go out to the surface to find his ex-girlfriend aimee, the only person left from his old life, you start feeling like, well, a problem.

“i’ll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror”

warnings: insecure reader?? idk none really

“it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero”

☾

you followed behind joel as he walked ahead, looking down at the map your colony had given the two of you.

he was so dead-set on going to find aimee and her colony that you only went with him because you knew there was a chance that if you didn’t, you would never see him again.

but there he was, happy and oblivious as he walked down the overgrown street.

what if he didn’t want you there? what if he just wanted to go alone to get away from you? what if he wanted to leave you behind? what if he still liked aimee? what if-

“y/n?”

you looked up to see joel staring back at you expectantly. he had stopped walking and was now looking back at you.

“hmm?”

“i asked if you’re okay.” he repeated, taking a few steps over to you. “are you?”

“yeah, joel, i’m fine.” you smile at him and he smiles back.

“you sure?” he asked, pushing a bit of hair away from your eyes.

“yes, i’m sure.”

“good.” he pecked your lips before taking your hand in his. “come on.”

he seemed like he still loved you, but what if he was just pretending because you were there and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? what if he’s just a really good actor?

you tried to push those thoughts from your head. at least for the time being.

the more your trip had gone on, the worse you felt.

you had major anxiety over the entire situation, and you felt horrible because the closer you got to the beach meant the closer you were to aimee.

and you could not stop thinking about how either of you could die at any moment, even with the help of two strangers you had met.

joel seemed over the moon the closer you got to the beach and he would keep on talking about aimee as you walked.

“you know, she actually got me these pencils.” joel told you as he drew the large frog-like creature the two of you had encountered just a few days earlier into his book.

the dog you had found, boy, was curled up by your leg as you ate.

clyde and minnow, the two strangers who had been helping the two of you survive for the last day or so, were sat on the opposite side of the fire.

“yeah, you mentioned that already, kid.” clyde mumbled, his mouth full of the beans he was eating. “i think your girlfriend’s getting sick of it.”

your head shot up, scaring boy for a moment, while joel’s turned to look at you.

“i’m fine. i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you shrugged it off, even if it were true.

you didn’t need joel to know about your worries or insecurities when it came to aimee.

he just seemed so excited and you felt like maybe you were the one thing that was stopping him from feeling happy.

so instead you focused on the dog in your lap, stroking and playing with boy until your small group had to leave.

as clyde and minnow led, boy running circles around the young girl, joel fell back to walk beside you.

“what’s going on with you?” he asked softly. “you okay?”

you nodded and joel gave you a look.

“i’m fine.” you insisted.

“you know you can talk to me… right?”

his words sounded genuine, and his facial expression was easily readable. he looked concerned.

“yeah, of course.” you put on a smile. “don’t worry, joel.”

you were no longer with clyde and minnow when you and joel reached the old broken down motel you decided to stay at for the night.

it was storming outside as you, your boyfriend, and your dog ran for shelter.

joel had been extra happy since he had killed one of the monsters and saved boy.

“wow.” joel breathed out, looking at the rain, and you tore your eyes away from him to look out at the sky.

rain was something you had missed from the outside world.

“you know, i haven’t felt the rain in seven years.” joel said to boy and you just kept watching the storm. “pretty cool. pretty cool.”

joel then wrapped his arms around your body and sat his chin on your shoulder. he pressed a short kiss to your neck, and you didn’t move.

your attention was entirely focused on the rain. you had forgotten how much you had loved it.

back when you were a teenager, you used to sit by your window whenever it would storm and just watch the rain, soft music playing from your headphones.

it was your favorite weather.

“how’re you doing?” joel asked quietly and you turned your head a little.

“i’m fine.” you responded, ignoring the few tears that had pricked in your eyes due to all the emotions you had been feeling.

“hello.” a sudden robotic voice spoke from behind you and joel spun around, letting his arms fall from your waist.

joel started walking inside, towards the voice, and you sat down, watching the rain fall.

you could hear some kind of electronic whirring, but didn’t turn your head.

“holy shit. you’re alive.” joel’s voice came from behind you. “i mean… you’re on.”

“i have 51 minutes of power left. what is your name?”

“uh, i’m joel. my name is joel.”

after he introduced himself, you turned your head. boy came and curled himself up on your lap, letting you pet him.

you didn’t listen to what was going on behind you until joel called your name.

“y/n, you gotta come in here.” he chuckled. “it’s… it’s a real mav1s.”

you stood up, being careful not to hurt boy as you did so, and walked inside, sitting beside joel on the springy mattress.

“mav1s, this is my girlfriend, y/n.” joel introduced with a smile.

“hello, y/n.”

“hi.” you mumbled.

“joel, besides conversing with me, for which i am eternally grateful, may i ask what you are doing outside of your colony?”

“yeah, um…”

“did you steal food?” the mav1s’s eyes narrowed.

“no. no, i didn’t steal any food.” joel responded and you couldn’t help but snicker at his tone.

joel looked at you, noticing the fact that he hadn’t heard you laugh in quite a while.

he then looked back at the mav1s. “y/n and i are actually… on a quest. to find a girl. um, an old friend of mine, actually.”

“how lovely! what is her name?”

“uh, aimee. with one i and two e’s.”

you kissed joel’s cheek and walked outside again. you sat on the ground, right on the edge of the concrete so the rain would fall against your head.

you hadn’t realized just how long you had zoned out for until you heard joel bringing mav1s outside and sitting her on the couch.

“i, uh, i need to pee.” joel picked up his crossbow and started walking away. “i’ll be back.”

was he leaving? oh, my god, was he ditching you?

“is something troubling you, y/n?” mav1s asked as you watched joel walk inside. “you can tell me anything, as i am an empathetic listener.”

you stood up as the rain slowed down and sat beside the mav1s on the old couch.

“also, my memory banks will be permanently erased in 14 minutes.”

you sat quietly for a moment before looking at the robot.

“did joel talk to you about aimee much?”

“only for a moment. he talked to her on his radio. why do you ask?”

“do you think he… likes her?” you asked.

“yes, i do think he likes his friend, as he-”

“no, no. no, mav1s, i meant, like… do you think he has, like, romantic feelings for her?”

“what makes you ask that?”

“before everything that happened, and before he met me in our colony, joel and aimee were together. aimee was his girlfriend before i was.” you sighed and leaned back in your seat. “i just… do you think he’s gonna leave me for her?”

“while he was talking to aimee on his radio, joel spoke very fondly of you.”

“am i crazy to be totally freaking out that joel’s gonna leave me forever?”

“what?” joel asked as he approached you again. you hadn’t even noticed him appear.

you went quiet. “nothing. it doesn’t matter.”

he sat himself beside you. “y/n, i’m never gonna leave you. why would you even think that?”

you looked down at your lap and shrugged. he crouched in front of you to meet your eyes.

you sighed at the confused look on his face. joel was always so clueless.

“aimee.” you answered.

“huh?”

“do you still have feelings for her?”

joel was silent for a moment, staring into your eyes. worry took over your features as you searched his face for some kind of answer to your question.

then a smile grew on joel’s face, which turned into a chuckle.

“what?” you asked and joel shook his head.

“nothing, you’re just funny.”

“joel, i’m being serious. why are you coming all this way for her? do you still have feelings for her?” you stared down at him and he rested his hands on your shoulders.

“y/n, i only have feelings for you. i swear.” his smile had softened as he spoke. “aimee’s someone from my past. yes, i dated her when i was 17, but that’s different now. i only want you. not aimee, not anybody.”

“then why..?”

“she’s my friend, and it’s been like 7 years. i just wanted to see what it’s like out here, and i haven’t seen anyone i knew before all this in over half a decade.”

joel frowned and put a hand on your cheek.

“i guess i just got excited. i forgot to ask if you were even okay with all this.”

a smile tugged on your lips. “it’s fine, joel.”

“i love you, okay?” he told you, his voice honest. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you whispered out and leant forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

he hugged you tight and pulled you to your feet.

as he held you, he slowly rocked the two of you back and forth.

music slowly started to play, coming from mav1s, and joel smiled before spinning you around.

it was raining more, and joel pulled you out from under the shelter and into the rain.

his hair stuck to his face as he smiled, leaning forward and pecking you on the lips.

“you’re the only one for me, okay? don’t you ever doubt that for a second.” he mumbled into your ear as the two of you danced. “you’re my girl.”

you smiled and lifted your hand from his shoulder to push his hair from his eyes.

the two of you danced in the rain until mav1s’ power ran out and the music abruptly stopped.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: how has this been in my drafts since june…

[ochrearia]

Only Colder

I don't feel all that good. Again. This will happen often I think when it is cold. Or maybe I'm just stressed. But my body hurts. It's not suffering in cold like YS is but. Something to be said here too I guess, about some things written. But. I don't know. Tired. And I don't have motivation to be a person or. Ask.

BFs in this one-shot: Yourself (YS)

Disappearing without a trace would still be easy. It would. YS knew mentally he wouldn’t be able to do it because his angelic instincts would kick in and actually stop him from choosing to stay gone for too long. He had responsibilities now. It was just a miracle that every winter before this he’d managed to avoid doing anything stupid.

But that was where the miracle ended. YS was no stranger to having shitty winters, because they were always shitty for a cold-blooded being like him. And now there were firsts he had to accept. First winter without his wings to help him attempt to keep warm.

First winter without her.

YS was never really one for Christmas. Or any holidays, really. Halloween was okay, but he didn’t partake in it this year anyway. The holidays in these last two months were off the table though. Drowned out by the constant that was the cloud of negativity accompanying the cold.

It was cold. Really cold. He didn’t like being cold.

But he couldn’t sit here and lie, saying he didn’t think about disappearing in a snowstorm in the middle of the night every once and a while. A thought that got more common when the months of snow actually came around. But now it was ten times worse with what happened between last year and now. Scary how things could change so fast.

YS was cold.

He was shivering under his blankets. He hadn’t realized how much having his wings actually helped during these months in his constant battle against the cold. Now they were gone, and he was realizing the absence of the extra built-in layer was hitting him hard. And he was woefully unprepared for how sharp the cold’s bite was on his scars. Scars that YS never gave a shit about letting properly heal to begin with, so it was definitely his fault they were still raw.

The warmies plushie that Cyber had given him was currently being squeezed to death in his arms. Grasping to whatever tiny source of heat he could, but it was fading fast and not sticking. It was cold. How was he supposed to even attempt to sleep with this shit going on? Cold days he could at least somehow salvage if he was lucky, but cold nights? He might as well get in the grave himself and die. This apartment didn’t have the greatest heating system, it didn’t reach very high temperatures. Nothing warm enough to help.

Her red glow on his nightstand drew his attention. If only he could stop shivering.

“I’m not… I’m not doing it.” YS mumbled in response to her light. “I can’t. I can’t do that. I can’t pull anyone away from their own lives for this stupid shit. Majority don’t even know and I don’t want to have to explain it all.”

Her glowing flickered in frustration.

“It’s the holidays, my dear.” YS let slip- god, he hadn’t said that in so long. He was getting too used to her being like that, as if that should be considered normal. “I won’t pull them away from the people they love during a season like that. I was the one who removed my wings. It’s my problem to fix. Or experience the consequences of.”

He sighed, turning his eyes to the dark ceiling like he’s done so many times before. It never got any easier. Despite it all, sometimes it really just ended up not being worth it. But every time YS had that thought cross his mind, it was immediately drowned by incredible guilt, because how could he ever think that when he had so many people in his life to care about now?

People he was sparing from this. It was some hour of night, the sun had been gone for at least a few hours. They should all be asleep by now, or at least trying. Or will be soon. Didn’t matter, YS wasn’t going to derail that. He wasn’t going to become a burden because he couldn’t handle a little bit of cold.

She was getting even more worried.

“I can’t.” YS repeated with a shake of his head. Even his body was starting to tense to the point of pain, because he was stressed about being so damn cold. But that still wasn’t a good enough reason to be a bother. “I’ve lived through every winter before. I’ll do it again.”

Apparently he had something to prove. There was no benefit to suffering alone, but… he was scared. Paralyzed by his own mind. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t reach out, so afraid of being a bother, or inconveniencing anyone because he needed something. He couldn’t. Couldn’t ask. Couldn’t need. Some things just weren’t allowed.

Like how his angelic instincts would keep him from doing anything stupid and permanent, there was something else in his body that kept him from asking for help.

YS could daydream about what would happen if he did, though. Nice things that he could only hope for. Biff and Beef wouldn’t let go of him until he had to actually pry them off of him, that was for sure. Boyf would probably do that too. Beefer he knew had some sort of water power that involved hot water, YS wondered if he could turn his apartment into a sauna. Or just… lie on top of him in dino form and squish him in warmth- though Beefer may be cold-blooded too. Huh. He’d never asked…

Peacock would indulge him. Maybe pull some silly, sentimental shit and envelop him in his own wings. That would be a nice thought. Bee would probably enable the snuggles too, because most of them were similar in that regard at least. Physically affectionate. Blue as well. Blue… confused him. YS still didn’t understand how someone could just not know they were an angel. Had he just never seen his own wings? Did angels in Blue’s world not have to deal with this cold shit? That would be nice.

Most of them were physically affectionate. But not all of them, probably. YS wasn’t sure. Cyber seemed partial to him, clinging like no tomorrow, but seemed stand-offish with everyone else. BJ he had no real clue about. He was a bird, maybe? And also apparently not really alive? That guy was also confusing. He’d effectively perched on YS a few times but that was all. Not really too much to go off on.

Bash… YS frowned. Bash wasn’t like that for people he didn’t consider close. There were only a few that Bash was close to and he was very much not one of them. He couldn’t force that and wouldn’t. Suppose it sucked to even have a list of his people he wouldn’t ask even if he could. But… He couldn’t rely on everyone, surely. And he didn’t want to burden anyone to begin with. So really, he wouldn’t ask anyone. Can’t.

Hah. Brooke wouldn’t even consider it. Which, in all honesty, maybe he deserved that anyway. YS had hurt him first. Their first meeting was the most disastrous thing possible. He hated existing sometimes, remembering that him being alive managed to actually hurt someone else.

But that was the cold talking, wasn’t it?

Sure. Yeah. The cold.

YS was on his own. That was okay. He hadn’t earned any company anyway. The only company was the cold, and he was trying to get rid of it. So being alone it was.

The warmies had lost all its heat again. It was cold. YS was still shivering, and she was still glowing with concern on his nightstand. Well. Guess he should do something about this, huh?

YS steeled himself for the sharp bite of the air outside of his blankets. It wasn’t much warmer under them, but still something he could feel now being exposed to the open air. Shivering and still trying to conserve any heat in his body, he pushed down frustrated, defeated tears as he brought the warmies with him back to the microwave.

Maybe the twelfth time would be different.

[acrossthewavesoftime]

Wait... are you saying that Simcoe was possibly a Bicon, in addition to being a hero of Upper Canada?

That, my friend, I am! Albeit with the usual caveats that there are some things we cannot say for certain.

I think there are hints pointing towards Simcoe having been possibly romantically, or even sexually, inclined towards men as well as women.

Apologies for my tardy reply, but this got a tad long, so please proceed under the cut:

Edward Drewe: "My Dorilas"

The first hint is the poem I was talking about, written by his fellow officer Edward Drewe, whom Simcoe knew since childhood. Drewe wrote the poem as a farewell to Simcoe upon being invalided back home to England early in the Revolutionary War.

For me, the repeated emphasis on the sorrow of parting in elborately dramatic scenes (such as imagining what would happen if Simcoe would die before also returning home, complete with a description of his "mangled corse" [sic, and a bit sick, too]) and particularly the repeated address of Simcoe as "Dorilas" seem to point in that direction.

The lovely and ever helpful @my-deer-friend was able to pinpoint a potential origin for the appellation "Dorilas" from the Tale The Loves of Dorilas and Euanthe, published in the Oxford Magazine in 1774.

Assuming the name is a direct reference to either this particular story or similar stories, due to the personal nature of the poem, my assumption would be that Drewe, complementing Simcoe's Dorilas, cast himself in the role of Euanthe.

This, by the way, is the last paragraph of the story:

"[G]olden shafts" and Venus having "crowned the night when Dorilas the pride of swains enjoyed his beloved Euanthe" does sound quite... Well, they surely weren't just looking at is stamp collection together.

If the appellation "Dorilas" in Drewe's poem indeed does refer to Dorilas and Euanthe, I think that would be a very distinct hint as to how the relationship between Drewe and Simcoe might have looked like.

John André: "an officer whose superior integrity and uncommon ability did honour to his country, and to human nature."

Another man who was very important to Simcoe was John André. They knew each other, and enjoyed spending time together. They were of a similar age and had shared interests. Similarly to André, Simcoe could draw well and was a man not shy of conviviality.

When André was captured, Simcoe approached Clinton submitting a plan for André's rescue which would have included putting his own life on the line that was however refused by Clinton.

Now, I'm perfectly sure I have seen Simcoe's letter to Clinton somewhere, but cannot find it. It seems to exist, too, because the plan to rescue André was also known to Simcoe's biographer, Mary Beacock-Fryer, who makes mention of it, sadly without referencing the original (Beacock-Fryer, Mary: John Graves Simcoe. A Biography, p. 56.).

What I can provide you with however is the assertion, in Simcoe's own words, that he

[...] had given directions that the regiment should immediately be provided with black and white feathers as mourning, for the late Major Andre, an officer whose superior integrity and uncommon abiity did honour to his country, and to human nature. John Graves Simcoe, Journal, p. 152 (1844 reprint).

In his so-called Journal, a work he compiled in order to highlight his own role in the war and political stances which he wrote with the intention to serve as a stepping-stone for his (political) career after his return to civilian life (and half-pay) in England, there are not many hints as to how his relationship with André may have looked like, which, given its nature, makes sense.

He does however highlight, in his Journal and later private letters, how greatly André's death upset him, and allegedly, though I have never found any proof for this, André's self-portrait, drawn at the eve of his execution, was copied by Simcoe's artiscally gifted wife to give to Honora Sneyd, André's former sweetheart.

There are no concrete hints to any relationship in a romantic or sexual sense with André, in any case however, I think it bespeaks their close bond that Simcoe was willing to sacrifice his own life for André, and had the Queen's Rangers add feathers to their hats as a token of respect and rememberance to him.

Mary Anne Burges: Defying Social Expectations

Simcoe was by most accounts a person who was naturally jovial, affectionate and inclined to see the good in everyone; local stories and historical anecdotes about Simcoe highlight his approachable character.

One curious personal relationship was that with Mary Anne Burges, his wife's best friend; the two were a 'package deal', which he knew; legend has it that after she had accepted his proposal, Elizabeth Gwillim, the future Mrs. Simcoe, sent her fiancé to talk to her best friend and promise her that he would never come between them.

How much of this story is true will remain lost to history, but Simcoe had no issues with Burges moving into the vincinity and being a constant visitor. She even became, in the absence of blood-relations, an aunt of sorts to the Simcoe children who would help take care of the four eldest daughters while their parents were away in Upper Canada.

Mary Anne Burges and Elizabeth Simcoe were friends ever since their teenage years and Burges sometimes came to stay with her bestie, who was then living with her maternal aunt Margaret and the latter's husband, Admiral Samuel Graves, whenever her cash-strapped parents considered putting pressure on her to get married already.

Mary Anne Burges remained single for life, carved out a professional existence (albeit an at times precarious one) for herself writing for magazines, had a great interest in the natural sciences and even became a single (foster) mother to an orphaned relation. Here is what she wrote to Elizabeth when a gentleman decided to try his luck with her by way of a surprise proposal:

[...] so I wrote him word that I had more a determination to continue single all my life [...]. Mary Anne Burges to Elizabeth Simcoe, 8 June 1795.

Her refusal to the proposal had nothing to do with the particular gentleman in question; she was simply not interested in men in a romantic or sexual capacity, which she seems to have been very open about. In another letter to her best friend, shortly after the Simcoe's had left for Upper Canada in 1792, she gives an account of a spat between herself and the notoriously quarrelsome Margaret Graves, jealous of the close relationship between her niece and Mary Anne Burges. Margaret Graves mused loudly that friendships between married (Elizabeth Simcoe) and unmarried ladies (Mary Anne Burges) were very improper, because unmarried ladies might ask a married lady about advice regarding her lovers. Mary Anne Burges coldly replied that "[t]hat can easily be overcome by not having any lovers."

Mary Anne Burges remained a trusted friend close with the Simcoe-family for as long as she lived. Given that the Simcoes were very close, and Mary Anne had been around the Graves' house, too, I would guess that Simcoe would have known either from Mary Anne Burges herself or from his wife, that she was resolved not to conform to the common expectations held for women in the day. Despite that, she was allowed a close relationship not only with his wife, but particularly with his children.

To me, Simcoe's relationship with Mary Anne Burges evidences that he was more, for lack of a better word, open-minded than one would expect of an aspiring social climber with politically otherwise conservative leanings in the late 18th century, which may have influenced his view on and willingness to engage in romantic or perhaps even sexual relationships with other men.

Samuel Graves: Simcoe's upbringing

This open-mindedness likely stems from his upbringing between his mother's and his godfather's household. While I sadly know only very little about his mother, I know quite a fair bit about his godfather Samuel Graves.

Graves valued education (and scolded his older brother because he considered his nephews too little educated to successfully make their way in the world), was married to a member of the Bluestocking circle who believed that women should have more legal rights, especially regarding social mobility through education and vocational training as well as allowing married women to hold property in their own name, and allowed Mary Anne Burges to stay in his home whenver she required an escape from her home life.

Even more interesting is that due to a severe case of malaria contracted while serving abroad as a young man, he had grown infertile. He knew this, and was open about it to his family. Taking this into account, his marriages defy the contemporary socio-religious expectations somewhat as they could never produce any offspring; his two marriages were, from the pieces of evidence I have, likely for love.

His second wife, Elizabeth Simcoe's aunt Margaret, née Spinckes, appears to have been firm on never wanting any children of her own due to having watched her sister die in childbirth, which, coupled with her aversion to giving up her substantial fortune to a husband, had kept her from marrying so far; looking at her marriage to Samuel Graves, it seems that she not only trusted him with her property, she was also happy to have sexual relations with him, some light allusions to this apparently very delctable part of married life she left behind in letters.

Conclusion:

It was in this at the second glance rather surprising environment that Simcoe grew up in, and that may have influenced his personal development, and perhaps instilled in him an acceptance of people not conforming to social expectations, which may have influenced his possible relationships with men such as Edward Drewe and perhaps even John André.

Simcoe's acceptance of Mary Anne Burges as a close friend to his wife and daughters (and to himself, too), who by modern terminology would likely fall under the umbrella term "queer", shows that throughout his life, he was accepting of people who, especially regarding personal and potentially sexual relationships, defied social expectations.

How his own relationships with other men may have looked like concretely, and how the people involved would have perceived, termed and described them might sadly be forever lost to history; for a great analysis of terminology and (what we today consider to be) queerness in an 18th century context, I will link this excellent post by @my-deer-friend.

Especially Edward Drewe's potentially sexually underpinned poem may suggest that a relationship going beyond a romantic friendship between him and Simcoe may have existed.

I think that in Simcoe's case, no prior evaluation of his friendships with men of a similar age prior to his marriage has taken place yet because firstly, most scholarship on him was written in the 19th/early 20th century when queer history was, to put it mildly, not exactly a priority, and secondly, because his very happy, monogamous marriage (about which he wrote poetry containing such great lines as "[...] shall my Eliza with true passion burn") and eleven (!) children do not instantly suggest any attraction to other men on his part.

A further, more in-depth analasys would be a desideratum on my part, especially because I believe there is some basis for it meriting further research.

[lightofthemoonglow]

Okay, from one of your prompt lists, I matched some characters with words that seemed to fit and you can write whatever you get inspiration for.

Tarantism - the urge to overcome melancholy by dancing with Crawford Tillinghast. I just wanna dance with him.

Grapholagnia - the urge to stare at obscene pictures with Marty (maybe like at a fancy art museum they get dragged to by friends and Marty is absolutely baked and reader is trying not to die laughing at his observations?)

Concilliabule - a secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot with Ash Williams.

Druxy - something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside with Amanda Young (oh the angst possibilities)

Ayurnamat - the philosophy that there is no point in worrying about events that cannot be changed with Herbert (he seems like a bitch who can hold a grudge for decades)

Mamihlapinatapei - the look between 2 people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move with Milton Dammers?

(sorry i couldn't write Crawford, my brain just wouldn't so after a month, i gave up. and the Milton one just made me so sad that i wound up crying, so i'm saving that for when i'm in a better place)

Ayurnamat - The philosophy that there is no point in worrying about events that cannot be changed.

Herbert West (oops, i went in a different direction, sorry!)

It’s only a small setback. There is no use in getting upset over this because it’s already happened. Unlike Dan, Herbert is not the sort of bemoan not being able to go back in time. Even if such a thing were possible, he wouldn’t bother with it. Not when he has the tools to move forward.

Dead weight is not easy to move alone, but Herbert has had plenty of practice. He manages to maneuver your body onto the lab table, your head thunking against the cold metal. Hopefully that won't cause any issues upon reanimation.

It happened quickly. Considering the rampage that had led to your death, it had been painless as well. Just a fall in the wrong way. Herbert had lost control of an experiment and your attempts to stop it had led to your own end. Led to him having a fresh specimen, one of the freshest he’s ever had. He can save you. There’s no brain damage, you’re still warm as he lifts your head to sedation.

“Do not fret,” he mutters, as if you can still hear him, as he preps the syringe. He can calculate the dosage in seconds now, no longer wasting precious time trying to figure it out. You don't need much, not as much as the dosage he had given to the thing that killed you. It would rot and you would thrive. “It will be as if none of this ever happened.”

Druxy - Something which looks good on the outside, but is actually rotten inside.

Amanda Young

It was love at first sight.

She was leaning against the brick wall near the free clinic, watching people come and go. You had noticed her when you had gone in to get your shoulder checked and she had still been there when you had left. Something about her drew you to her, made you walk over to her and ask if she had a lighter.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” Amanda had said when you had lit up, needing a smoke after the week you’d had.

“Hey, if you were the last thing I saw before I died, I’d die happy.” You try to play it cool, ripping off a line from a movie you saw once. If she realizes your stupid pickup line isn’t original, she doesn’t let on. She smiles, as if she thinks you’re actually charming or something like that.

It’s great at first. It’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you and you wonder how you got so lucky. Amanda is perfect at first, it’s the best two weeks of your life. You don’t ask about the scars because you have a few of your own and she’ll tell you when she’s ready. When you find out about what happened to her, you just hold her in response and tell her that everything is going to be okay. That she’s safe, she’s fine. You stay up all night after nightmares, you make sure she eats and sleeps, it’s a lot but you do it because you love her.

The darkness starts to seep in. Sometimes she sees someone, maybe in person, maybe on TV, and she gets this look in her eyes. It’s darker than disdain, it’s almost loathing. You’d consider it loathing if she knew them, but she never does. It sends a chill down your spine when you see that look and you wonder. You wonder if Jigsaw got under her skin. If this is how she copes, by seeing people the way he sees them.

But sometimes she’s happy, she’s wonderful and you ignore the little things. The dark looks. The long nights out.

The blood on her shoes.

Concilliabule - A secret meeting of people who are hatching a plot.

Ash Williams

The supply closet doesn’t lock from the inside but a broom handle jammed in the right place would do the job just fine.

“Come on, baby, it’ll be fun.”

You roll your eyes and brush your lips against Ash’s. There’s a bucket handle digging into your back but it’s hard to care about that when his hands have somehow made their way into your hair, your scrunchie on the floor. It’s gonna be covered in debris but you’ll survive. Ash’s mouth on your neck more than makes up for it.

“We have another three hours on our shift.”

“That’s why I’m going to start a little fire in the ladies room.”

You blink rapidly a few times, trying to process what he said. “A what in the where?”

“It’ll only be in the trash can, baby. And then you and me can head outta town for the weekend.” Ash is smirking, you can fucking hear it in his voice. “It’ll be great. I know a place off the highway with free cable and a vibrating bed.”

You laugh and kiss him on the cheek. “Let me do it. They’ll wonder why you’re in the ladies room.”

Grapholagnia - The urge to stare at obscene pictures.

Marty Mikalski

“Are you guys stoned at The Met?”

Curt sounds somewhere between amused and appalled. They had been able to get free entry because Holden knew a guy who knew a guy, it was a whole series of deals but it worked out in the end. The two of you had taken some gummies just before getting on the subway, timing it just right so it would hit when you were already at the museum.

Marty felt light as a feather, you felt like there were rocks in your legs, so it made sense to lean on each other as you stood in front of the largest painting of a naked woman either of you had ever seen.

“That’s inconsequential,” Marty brushes off the question, even though it’s obvious to anyone that knows either of you. “We’ve been hypnotized by this magnificent work of art.”

You lean forward and need a moment to actually read the plaque under it. ​​“Le Ravissement de Psyche,” you manage to say, giggling at nothing, except for maybe it’s French. “The Rapture of Psyche.” You feel weirdly proud of yourself, your head going back on Marty’s shoulder.

Curt looks at the sight of the two of you standing there, eyes on the painting instead of each other and he smirks. “You guys gonna look at anything else.”

Marty, his nose full of your shampoo and the weight of your head on his shoulder, just shook his head. “I think we’re right where we need to be.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets Thursday: Meddling Mar (part 2 of 2)

(Jak is back from Haven and in so much trouble)

PREV

"Gate pass."

Two words, absolutely devoid of emotion, were all it took to shatter the facade of defiance Jak had crafted. Nausea churned his stomach, and he bit down on the insides of his cheeks until he tasted blood. He'd known there would be a price to pay. But this-

With a shaking hand, Jak drew the gate pass from his pocket and silently cursed the trembling limb for betraying his weakness as he held it out for Damas to take.

Damas didn’t look at him.

"Three weeks." His voice was a little too calm. Jak could feel anger underneath the words, waiting like vipers under the sand. "You left for three weeks without a word to me, to Phobos. To anyone. And in that time the only word from you I had, I had to get secondhand from Sig."

He didn't look at Jak.

"What have you to say for yourself?"

Jak tried to swallow around the boulder in his throat and wondered why this, of every scolding or reprimand he'd ever received, terrified him beyond words. He wanted to tell Damas that he'd tried to come back the first day, only to be stopped by the force fields. He wanted to tell him how Veger had paid for signal jammers around the walls, fearing that other city-states might take advantage of Haven's compromised capitol. He wanted to beg for forgiveness. But it all fell short, didn’t it? Pathetic excuses from a pathetic excuse for a hero. A runaway. A deserter, that's what he was.

Jak’s throat closed around his words, stifling them. He swallowed, felt the muscles of his neck tense and pulse. But the panic had a stranglehold on his throat and he just couldn't.

Damas wouldn't look at him.

Damas couldn’t see.

Look at me! Please, please look at me! he silently begged.

"Haven's-" Daxter's voice squeaked into the air between them, faltering and guilty. "They...made it real easy to get in and near impossible to get out. We got caught in the lockdown, just a couple hours after we got there. It wasn’t supposed to be three weeks. It wasn’t even supposed to be three days."

"And that somehow excuses you slipping out like thieves in the night, unsanctioned and unaccompanied?" Damas demanded, finally turning his eyes to them. "Do you know how many people were searching the city and desert for you? We did not even know you had made it to Haven until Sig went back to look for you! We feared Egil had taken you!"

Jak physically took a step back. Damas looked as though he hadn't slept in days. Deep, dark circles ringed his bloodshot eyes, and his face was haggard.

I did this.

He opened and shut his mouth uselessly, then fell back on SparSign on instinct.

"I didn't think-"

"You didn't think," Damas interrupted, "Full stop. Haven is a hotbed of our enemies, Jak, and you just walked into the vipers' den. I had no idea where you were! What if you'd been injured? Or arrested? Hm? What if they’d framed you for something else and tried to kill you?"

A little confused, but afraid to further provoke the man, Jak kept his head down.

"It's never mattered before that they tried to kill me."

"Because I didn't know you were there!"

Even Damas seemed surprised by his own cracking voice.

"You run from one danger to the next like you think it doesn't matter if you live or die. It. matters. Jak. You think you're the only one who suffers if something happens to you?"

Jak cringed. He knew he wasn't. Daxter was always there. Daxter was always in danger because of him.

And he'd left Spargus down one person for three weeks, which meant someone else probably had to do his share of the work-

And Mar was alone that whole time-

Shame, hot and acidic as dark eco, burned in his gut. It reached up with long claws to pin his lungs shut.

"I- I'm sorry. I'll go. I'm sorry," he signed, utterly dejected. "But don't make our brother leave. Don't blame him or Daxter for what I did."

"Go?" Damas demanded, stepping closer, "And where, exactly, did you think you would be going?"

oh gods, he's going to make me say it. He's going to make me pronounce my own exile-!

Jak couldn’t speak. He just gestured to the gate pass resting in Damas’s clenched fist.

Shock colored the king’s eyes for an instant, softening his face into something sadder. Wearier.

"You-" he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "You think I- I'm exiling you?"

Jak kept his eyes on the floor and twisted his fingers into his tunic.

"I understand why," he answered, short and to the point.

A strangled noise startled him enough to drag his gaze upward, meeting Damas’s eyes.

"You-!"

He inhaled sharply through his nose and shut his eyes for four seconds.

Then he stormed down the steps and caught Jak by the shoulder. Before Jak had time to think, he'd been yanked into Damas’s arms, all but crushed against his chest.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this.

"You stubborn, frustrating child-!" Damas croaked next to his ear. "Exiled?! After I spent three weeks barely knowing if you were alive, you think I would let you out of my sight?"

Jak stiffened. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. He screwed up, he got rejected until he earned some kind of redemption. That was the script life followed. He didn't have a script for this.

"Mar told us you-" Damas swallowed. Gritted his teeth. "You thought you had to lead enemies away from our walls. Alone! Have we done nothing to earn your trust, even after all this time?"

Jak couldn’t answer. He could barely move. He wanted to protest that he fought his own battles, that he didn't want his past screw-ups to come haunt his only real home. But his mind caught on Damas’s words and rang in his ears.

Mar

Mar.

He knows.

Jak’s jaw worked in silence, and his eyes darted left to meet the same panic in Daxter's eyes.

Damas pulled back and gripped Jak’s face between his hands, forcing his gaze back to him.

"Jak, I lost you once before. I cannot endure it a second time. If you will not heed caution for your own sake, then at least think of your brothers first. Think of Phobos and me."

What.

Tongue finally loosened, Jak choked on questions and only managed inquiring noises. A second time? What was Damas talking about? Why was he hugging him instead of yelling at him?

"I don't...I don't understand-" he tried to breathe around the tightness still gripping his lungs. "I don't- Mar told you?"

Damas’s eyes glimmered, the only evidence betraying how close to breaking down he truly was. "No, son," he said quietly.

The word seemed weightier than usual.

"I knew."

Jak pulled back. "You knew?! How long?!"

"In truth? The day I found you in the desert." Damas blew out a breath that was just barely shakier than it should have been. "I knew in my heart who I had found, but after two years I was afraid to believe it without proof. That proof came sixteen days ago."

Sixteen days. While Jak was gone, then. Damas had been looking for Mar before Jak had come from the past? Why? He was nothing like the Underground, so Jak couldn't imagine that he'd meant to use Mar's powers for his own gain.

Swallowing hard, he tentatively asked, "What proof?"

Damas looked away for a moment, reaching for something in one of his belt pouches.

"The results of a cheek swab when we found you. A...computer test. One that can show us the building blocks of a person's blood, and who their parents were."

He knows I'm Mar! Jak realized, and excuses and justifications crowded behind his teeth. He knows we aren't blood brothers-!

Having apparently found what he was looking for, Damas opened his hand and held it out to Jak.

An amulet of Mar, far older than the one Jak shared with his brother, lay on his open palm, and the last pieces began to click into place.

"I see you, Jak," Damas whispered. "You don't have to keep fighting alone."

"You're...you're one of us?" Jak asked, "Like, from the- the future?"

"One of you?" Damas laughed, a little brokenly. "I'm your father, you ridiculous boy!"

His father?!

In the secrecy of his heart, Jak could easily admit that he saw the man as a father-figure, if an idealized one. And as he and Mar had started to ease up and let Damas closer, he'd pretended sometimes that their relationship was more familial than mentor and student. He knew Mar thought of Damas -- and Phobos a little moreso -- as "his" grown-ups.

Had they, somewhere deep inside, remembered them? Was that bond instinctive, picking up something that had always existed? Or had they built it themselves?

Jak wanted to apologize -- for leaving, for not explaining, maybe for existing in this form and not his childhood shape -- but what came out of him was only a noise. Soft, pained. He squeezed his eyes shut as if that would help him keep his jaw clenched.

"Oh, oh-"

Damas pulled him close again, shushing him as if he were a child.

"Oh Jak."

His voice was hoarse, and full of pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I waited so long for proof. I should- I should have confronted you the first time I saw you using Mar's sign name."

He pressed Jak's head against his shoulder and held him tightly. "I'm- I'm sorry I made you think you might be sent away. I was- You scared me, Jak. I thought I was going to lose you before I could find out if you knew-"

Over Jak's shoulder, Damas looked down at Daxter and sighed. "Thank you," he said, "for going with him. If you say you got caught in a lockdown, I- I believe you, Daxter."

"You...do?" Daxter asked in a very small voice.

He didn't know what to feel. Relief? Confusion? A bitter envy?

"You've never given me a reason not to trust you," Damas answered simply.

Daxter swallowed twice. "So uh...does this mean you ain't mad anymore?"

Damas scoffed wetly. "No, I'm furious. But I'm so relieved that you're both safe."

He arched an eyebrow, though the stern look was softened somewhat by the tears in his eyes. "But. As the oldest, you should know better than to sneak out like that. You're as grounded as Jak is."

"Grounded?!" Daxter sputtered.

"So grounded." Damas nodded. "You two aren't- aren't getting this gate pass back for weeks."

Jak wanted to protest, to tell him all the responsibilities on his shoulders that required him to be able to go back and forth between cities. But he couldn't catch his breath long enough to form even a syllable.

He had a father. They had a father. Parents. That wanted them! All of them! But he didn't deserve it! Especially not now, after deserting the way he had!

"M- m- Mar?" he finally managed to force out.

Damas shushed him again and clicked his tongue. "He's alright. He's with your mother."

Your mother.

"I'm- I'm not...him, the right him-" Jak tried to warn Damas -- he ought to have known, he'd seen what Jak was like-

Damas’s arms trembled against his back.

"No. I don't want you to be your brother. Be you. Be my reckless, impudent, war-sage son, as you are." He gave a choked sob, wrapped partway around a chuckle, and added, "Though perhaps- perhaps so that I can sleep at night, a bit less reckless?"