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kittykattropicanna · 10 months ago

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girlfriend, i love how we jumped straight to marriage with mechanic!Simon but I'd love to know a bit more about the phase before he managed to lock down his girl for good.

What if, her ex comes looking for her? Some prim and proper, sleek wolf of wallstreet business typa guy appears at Price's Body Shop, recognizing her car and asking about her. No idea how he found her because he usually doesn't go into these parts of town, maybe someone saw her car, maybe she forgot to turn off / delete her location app.

Sees her at the shop and tells her to come home, this part of town is no place for her, he's sorry, the other woman didn't mean anything, he wasn't serious about kicking her out, whatever, you know the drill.

She's not impressed, unfazed, cool as a cucumber because her mind is filled with her new boy toy mechanic!Simon and she keeps drifting off to last night's memory 🤭

Listen, I love a woman who stands up for herself but you really can't expect your possessive new self proclaimed boyfriend and his crew to watch silently while your ex is trying sweet talk and win you back right in front of them, right?

Also, why is Simon being so weird after? There is nothing to worry about, she thinks he's perfect and exactly what she never knew she wanted. I guess she needs to prove it to him by taking matters into her own mouth hands 🤭🤭 pamper him like no one before

Foaming at the mouth at this ask, I wrote the marriage ask before I got to this one because I really wanted to drive home how fast he preposes, but I would love to elaborate about your relationship before he preposes, you’re in a very valuable position and absolutely cling to him for support :((((( it did change a couple of small things to help the story flow better, I hope you don’t mind ;)

Si knows from the start that you're the one :((( you guys act like you've been together since high school even though you've only know each other for a couple weeks :33333 But when your friends start calling, begging you to come back home? telling you that Si is manipulative and a bad guy that's taken advantage of your venerable state >:( of course he gets insecure :((( then your ex shows up?? a man that's the complete opposite of Si, he really starts to doubt himself :((((( lucky you can show him just how much you appreciate him with that mouth of yours ;))))

tw: loosing friends, controlling ex, possessive!Simon, insecure!Simon, sub!Simon (kinda?), insinuated violence, a lot of lore in this one??? so like porn with a plot??, smut, blowjob, face fucking, deep throating, L bomb (like twice??), talk of reader submitting to Si, there's just a lot going on tbh but baby...you're a giver and THATS for sure, basically you're just looking after your mannnnn and he loves you for it

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Obviously your friends call after they hear you broke up with your ex, they can’t find you anywhere and start freaking the fuck out! they love you so much and they’re scared shitless!!!

They only found out you were even missing because you didn’t turn up to brunch on Thursday :((

They called you, and of course you didn’t answer….you were busy ;)))

That obviously raised some alarm bells for everyone straight away, so their next point of contact was obviously your ex!!

Then the reality hit…. You had been missing since Monday night, he kicked you out after a bad fight and nobody had been able to get in contact with you……

Everyone obviously thinks worst case scenario. Car crash, kidnapping,…. maybe you ran away, or god forbid, something worse, maybe you weren’t even alive anymore, I mean, its been fucking days!!!

If someone were to have taken you, you could be out of the country by now, your body could already be decomposing somewhere never to be seen again, maybe they could have saved you if they new sooner :(((( got you the medical attention you needed before you succumb to your injuries…

Obviously everyone is going wild back home, freaking out and doing everything in their power to get in some kind of contact with you.

But no ;))))

As your phone buzzed and pinged with messages, vibrating on Si’s bedside table as he held your naked frame against his broad chest :3333

You were fine, more then fine actually :))))

“Don’t worry about tha’ baby, answer it later they’ll be fine” Si’s morning voice muffled into your hair, strong arms tightening his grip around your waist and his hard cock pressed up against your bare arse ;))

A couple days after Si saved you and towed your car, everything that happened hit you like a ton of bricks. You were kinda disoriented and fuzzy, still a little shaken by the experience and hadn’t really processed that you were in fact living with Simon now….

The warm feeling of toned arms wrapped around you and a hard chest against your back didn’t register it first….. but you never protested :333

Droopy eyelids snapping open ungodly wide when it all hit you :( like, holy shit, there was no way you’re actually doing this, there is no way you fucked a random mechanic, let him take you home, fell asleep in his bed and then just never left????…. that’s batshit crazy behaviour!

What made it even more jarring was from day one, when Si stirred awake he’d simply pulling you closer and kiss your temple like he’d been married to you for 30 years :3

There was no awkward small talk, no “you’ve overstayed your welcome now, i’ll drive you to a motel” or “what time do you think you’ll call a cab”, a simple kiss and a “how’d ya’ sleep princess” deep and groggy, a smirk on his lips as he kissed the back of your neck :)))

Your body relaxed instantly, for a man so big, there was a certain gentleness about him, a protective and calming aura he carried so effortlessly, you truly felt comfortable here…. It was such a strange experience but the idea of leaving his bed made you wince :(((

Even the morning routine you quickly created was natural!!

The tea and coffee lived on the top shelf of the cupboard, sitting at his two seater dining table Si happily watched your cute little arse poke out the bottom of his shirt :))) you had to hop a little bit to bring the tins forward, but all he could focus on was your bum and thighs jiggling >:((

He absolutely didn’t strategically place everything a shelf higher so he could see you do this exact thing the every morning….:333333

He was running unbelievably late for work but he couldn’t care less, the whole morning was filled with quick pecks and giddy smiles. From an outsiders prospective, nobody could guess you met a couple days ago :))))

Holding your waist as you make his lunch for him :)))) following every instruction perfectly :))))

Whispering “good girl” into your ear and kissing your neck gently as you pack his meal into his work bag, fat cock flush against your arse still concealed in his thick work pants, grinding slowly only relieving him slightly >:(

He wanted nothing more then to take you then and there, but the idea of you having to wait around for the rest of the day :((( thighs rubbing together and needy for him was wayyyy more appealing to come home to :( his such a meany

Leaving £100 on the kitchen counter for you, kissing you before he leaves, whispering into your lips to treat yourself :((

“You’ve had a long couple days sweethear’, get ya’ nails done for me, yeah? Get em’ pink or somthin’, okay?”

Obviously you’re memorised by this man at this point… how could you not be?

Agreeing with a slow nod and stars in your eyes as he kisses your nose

Nobody had ever looked at him like that before….

“That’s ma’ girl, i’ll be home by six”

When he finally rocked up at work, Price was pissed beyond belief, Gaz was working on multiple cars at a time due to his absence and Johnny looked like he could kill him as he sat in Si’s office, a line of annoyed customers leading outside the shop.

Soap new absolutely nothing about quotes and insurance claims and all this other bullshit that Simon dealt with as the manager.

Gaz had a hundred questions for him about what he suggested for certain repairs, it was pure chaos!!

But Si couldn’t find it in himself to be stressed, walking into the shop with a shit eating grin, completely bricked up and care free :))))

He’d never been happier then in that moment.

But I want to fast forward to when your friends finally got a hold of you a week after you went missing….

It was the strangest surprise as well as their biggest relief when you answer.

You were completely fine, they could basically hear you smile through the phone……

You started banging on about how you met this amazing guy named Simon, how his a super gifted mechanic, a complete gentleman and how you’re both deeply in love and never been happier!!

Reassuring them that you’re absolutely fine, better then fine actually, you’re safe and loved and don’t plan on ever going back home

And all your girls are like

“Babe….you can’t be serious right now? You’re not in love, you’ve been gone a week! And did you say you moved in with him!? A fucking mechanic!? Have you lost your fucking mind??? What about your job??? What about the entire fucking life you built here?!!!”

And

“That’s it, give me the address right now, we are coming to get you immediately. You’re coming home and never talking to this weird fucking Simon guy ever again. Got it?”

Of course they don’t understand:((((( why would they!?

You’ve finally found your person, it doesn’t matter if you have known Si for a week or a thousand weeks. You’re not fucking leaving!

This courses massiveeeee tension in you’re now ex friendship group.

Half your girls think they should cut you off immediately, staying friends with you only means supporting the relationship and that’s something they’re absolutely not going to do >:(((

The other half think its important to keep in contact with you, they want to be there when you finally “come to your senses” and “need an out”, whatever that means :/….they even insisted on meeting Simon, just to sus out the situation and see what’s really going on, but of course you deny.

Some even try to convince you that your ex was way better for you then Si:((((( how everyone thought you would end up getting married eventually, how there’s still time to realise you’ve made a mistake, that your ex was more then willing to take you back and everything would go back to normal!!!

“Babe, this Simon guy is manipulative, okay? You’re emotional and vulnerable right now and his latched onto that knowing you’re going to cling to him for support. His taking advantage of you babe! I know you think you’re in love and that he says all the right things but its an act! Hello? Are you there? Can you fucking hear me!!??’

They’re just trying to ruin everything though >>:((((((

Your friends never saw how your ex treated you behind closed doors and they could never understand the connection you and Simon had :(

When Si came home from work to you wrapped up in a blanket and crying on the sofa, he was ready to kill whoever caused you so much pain….when he found out it was actually your friends, his heart ached for his poor girl :(((

“Listen to me petal, look me in the eyes, you don’ owe them anythin’, they jus’ don’t understand, alrigh’ don’t cry baby, come on”

Wrapping his big musealy arms, covering you in his post work sweat and musk as you cling to his oily work shirt :((((

Of course you end up cutting off your friends. They could never understand what you and Simon had, if they really cared about you, they’d at least act like they were happy for you, not rip into you and try and push the narrative that you’ve been “manipulated” and “taken advantage of” while in a “venerable state” ://

Si absolutely agreed as well :( you didn’t need to worry about them anymore, they’re in the past and you’re moving forward with your life, its not your fault they haven’t grown up yet ://

Plus!!!! He would love to introduce you to Prices wife and the other girls at the bar he regulars…. Sure they may be a little older and all have children but you’re such a mature girl :((( you’ll get along with them just fine :3

Its definitely not because he wants to bring you around his friends chubby babies, planting the seed in your mind subconsciously, or consciously about having your own little family ;)))

Start taking the steps to really integrate you in his life and friendship circles ;))))))

He knows what his doing :3

You get along with everyone so well too, girls wine nights, being invited over to friends houses for dinner <3

Simon tucking his hard cock into the waist band of his boxes as you bounce one of your friends babies on your hip and coo to them :((((

You would be such a good mama to his babies :( your genetics mixed with his would make the cutest little humans and the image of you pregnant that won’t leave his mind is starting to drive him absolutely fucking feral :(((

Life is so good for you and Si at the moment :((((( of course your stupid fucking ex would come around and try to ruin it for you…..all for him…..

Your ex couldn’t of been more different from Si :(

Clad in a business suit and ridiculously expensive watch, a clean haircut, pure leather business shoes and smelling of expensive cologne, he absolutely stuck out when his Tesla pulled into the shop carpark….

An obviously disgusted look on his face as he entered the front office, not trying to hide his disapproval as he looked at the chipped paint that peeled off the walls and the overwhelming smell of fuel that had seeped into everything within a 50 meter radius, buttoning his suit jacket and dramatically watching his step as he walked on the stained concrete that covered the front office floor :////

Your ex was such a pretentious prick >:( if it wasn’t high luxury, he’d look down on it like it was dirt :/

The thing is, he didn’t actually care where you were after he kicked you out, he just assumed you would end up on a friends couch or something. The idea that you would run off with a random “dirty” man and enter a relationship literally hours after he broke things off enraged him.

But everything changed when he got the news you were living with “Si” a couple hours away and you were “deeply in love” with him.

He played the “distressed”, “regretful” boyfriend to your friends, trying to get as much information out of them as possible under the pretence of “keeping you safe”

Yeah…..right :///

His ego couldn't handle it! How dare you just move on like he was nothing!!! sleep in another mans bed without regret and start a new life with him not even being an afterthought!!!!>:(

You were meant to be heartbroken!!! Turn up on his doorstep and beg for his forgiveness as he laughed in your face :((

But you just moved on?????

He wasn't having that.

You were supposed to worship him, not replace him with some piece of shit mechanic >:(

Your friends fed him a lot of useless information, But there was one sentence that tied it all together.

In the middle of your rant about how much you loved Simon, you mentioned he worked at “Price’s Motor Repairs”

Nobody had heard of any repair shop with that name from around the area, but it was enough information for your ex to track you down…

Alarm bells went off in Simons head when he saw him walk in. He wasn’t from around these parts, that much was certain, and the way his eyes snaked over his name tag and an almost cocky grin spread across his face, he new something was up and it wasn’t good.

Your ex definitely turned up at like 5:59, a minute before Si was meant to close just to make it as inconvenient as possible for him >:/

Si never asked about your ex, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t care what his name was or what he did for a living, all he new was that he was a dickhead and that was enough to put him off. You were his now, your ex wasn’t relevant :((((

It didn’t even cross Si’s mind that this guy could possibly be your ex. It was probably just some wanker that broke down while he was passing through. So he gritted his teeth and walked outside to check out this “broken” car

It felt like a wild goose chase. He claimed there was something wrong with the motor, he checked it out, there was nothing wrong. He then claimed his AC wasn’t working, he checked it out, there was also nothing wrong.

This went on for about 20 minutes before Simon snapped >:(

“There aint nothin’ wrong with ya’ car mate, get that fuck out of er’ before ya’ start wishin’ ya’ did”

Snarky and satisfied, your ex left without a fight, pulling out of the shop and parking far enough down the street that he could see Si pulling out of the shop and heading home…. Leading him to directly to you without a fight….

He followed behind at a safe distance. Far enough away that Si didn’t notice he was being followed, Poor Si was beyond tired, paired with the dim lighting of the sun going down, he didn’t even notice someone was tailing him:(( he was on autopilot :(

All he wanted to do was get home to you, eat his hot meal that you prepared for him and slug on the couch with a beer, you cuddled up against him and block the outside world out for the evening :((

But after arriving home, the second he sat down for dinner, three obnoxiously loud knocks echoed off the front door.

When you saw he didn’t move, you stood up to answer it for him

“Jus’ leave it lovie, can’t be anythin’ important this time of night”

You explained there was an older lady that lived a couple apartments down, she started developing dementia and was in the early stages, she could still look after herself but often forgot small things like buying eggs from the grocery store or how to turn the TV on, she asked you for help all the time!!! and you were sure it was just her!! Of course it was! Who else could it be!

Simon wasn’t convinced. There was no way an old lady could knock with that much force.

He followed behind you hesitantly watching you swing the door open with a smile, only to reveal the piece of shit that was at the shop an hour earlier…

Si was honestly confused as fuck for a second, only for it to all fall into place when this guy started calling you “baby” and demanding for you to come home…..

His first instinct was to pull you behind him, he was beyond shocked when your ex grabbed your wrist with force, making sure Si couldn’t move you out of his line of sight without hurting you…

“Baby, you are coming home now, look at the state of this.. this.. drug addicts flat! you’re coming home with me immediately, stop fucking resisting!” Your ex spat getting more and more enraged by the second

You couldn’t go home, you were home, Si was your home :( But before you could get a word out, Si had your ex by the bicep, the pure force of the grip sending him into cold blooded shock, muscles tensing he lets go of your wrist out of pure shock :((

“Get inside n’ lock the door” he mumbled lowly before slamming it so hard the framework shook violently, you swore the hinges could of given way :((((

Once Si finally returned, you could tell there was something wrong :( something about the way he wasn’t all over you like normal, there was a purposeful distance he put between the two of you, almost like he didn’t want you there :((

After poking and prodding him, it all finally came out

“Ya’ know I could never give ya’ the life that he could doll…. All that fancy shit” a coldness behind his eyes, almost defeat taking over his expression :(

“I know I aint ya type baby, you’re one of them high class type, ya’ don’t belong down ‘ere with me….I’ll drive ya’ back in the mornin, okay? I’m not taken no for an answer, go start packin’’” :((((

He was so defeated, if you could see his heart you could of sworn it was ripped into separate pieces :((

He went on for a good 10 minutes like this, you know he was doing what he thought was in your best interest, but Jesus Christ did it sting :(((

Little did he know your ex was almost £50,000 in credit card debt, you payed for almost everything during the duration of your relationship :((( he never treated you to any sort of luxury like Si did :( never got you flowers or paid for your nails….

He truly thought that your ex had a one up on him…. That you would consider going back to him because of his “wealth”???

Getting off the couch and slowly sinking to your knees in front of him, you reach for the belt of his pants, slowly undoing his buckle :((

His mind is racing so much, so paranoid and distracted that he didn’t notice the sound of the metal being undone :((((

He always focused on your pleasure, making you feel wanted :(( it was your turn to appreciate him, with actions this time :333

Si completely stops mid sentence when your warm, delicate hand palms his soft cock :(((9

He looks down at you slowly, all worry leaving his body as he sees you down on your knees, submissive eyes looking up at him threw your eyelashes and pout on your face waiting for his reaction :(((

You could never leave Si :((( you needed a real man :(( you needed the man in front of you with his thighs spread wide and cock hardening right before your eyes :(((

Palming him agonisingly slow, he grinds against your touch desperate for more friction :((( you tell him how you’d never leave him :(((( how his the only one for you and you couldn’t survive in a world like this without him by your side looking after you the way he does :((

Soft grunts leaving his lips as he pleads with you to take out his length and stroke his now hard, aching cock >:(

“I know baby, I was stupid to think tha’, I know, jus’… jus’ pump it for me yeah?’” Growing increasingly desperate as you don’t follow his command >:( telling him you’re looking after him tonight and that he doesn't need to worry :(( how its his reward for being so big and strong, defending you from your ex and being a man :(( that all he needs to do is relax :((

He audibly whines, a sound you had never heard from him before, when you finally slip his girthy cock out of his boxes.. .

You smile up a him as you kiss his tip and squeeze your thighs together at just the thought of pleasing him and not receiving any physical pleasure yourself :)))))

Letting out a soft feminine giggle as pre cum covers your lips, Si having no choice but to sit helpless and watch the show you’re putting on for him :(((

He could absolutely take the lead if he wanted to, but something about you treating him, sucking his dick solely because you wanted to and not expecting anything in return was an offer you couldn’t turn down ;)

Teasing Si was fun but he deserved more tonight :((((( if it was up to you, lapping at his swollen tip for hours until he finally releases a desperate hot load onto your face would be a dream, but not tonight, Si gets everything tonight ;)

Slowly circling his leaky tip with your thumb, a soft groan falls from his lips as he sinks further into the couch :(((

Pumping him lightly, you place soft kisses from the top of his cock to his base :(((( Si bucking his hips and pleading with you threw his eyes just to suck it :((((( he tries so hard to hide his whines through deep groans but fails horribly :((( he was so tired tonight, emotionally and physically, any self control he would normally have was out the window :((

Taking your tongue, you lick from the base to the tip, salty sweat and pre cum filling your taste buds as your tongue glides up his vainy shaft :(

Si jerks forward a little at the sudden warm contact, throwing his head back as he eases into the warm sensation :3333

Without hesitation, you deep throat his 8 inch length, his tip hitting the back of your throat and your eyes watering instantly :((

Si’s callused hand instinctively grips your hair, rough grunts bounce off your apartment walls as he helped you set a ruthless pace, your mouth being abused and jaw aching from his sheer girth :(((

“That’s it Darlin’, fuck ya’ such a good girl for me, look at ya’ look at tha’ beautiful fuckin’ mouth taken’ me”

Holding your head still as he throat fucks you, your saliva dripping down your chin and onto the dirty cream carpet that covers the living room floor:(((

Seeing the small bump of his cock appear at the front of your neck with each brutal rut :(( your flushed cheeks and teary eyes make a small cocky smile spread across his face >:(

You were his! All his! Claiming your throat and having full control over how he fucks it makes his achy balls tighten as they slap against your chin :((

“That prick could never fuck you like I could, he’ll never feel ya’ fuckin throat again” he was so close to his release :((( Si was normally really good at holding off but the possessiveness of claiming your mouth with thick cum was pushing him over the edge in a matter of minutes :((((

Grabbing your hair tighter, he forcefully makes you deep throat his dick, your nose touching his pelvic bone and buried in his musky pubes <3 moans from your full mouth muffled by his cock shoved deep into your throat >:((

He cums hard…slow, deep thrusts as ropes of his salty seed run down your throat, you have no choice but to swallow his semen that his so politely given you :((

With each thrust, he lets out a quiet and strained “mine”. Its more to himself then you, reassuring himself that you were in fact his and his to keep :((

You remove your abused mouth from his cock, slowly pumping his now semi-hard dick with a dopey smile on your face, cum leaking out the corner of your mouth as you innocently look up at him and place a kiss on his swollen tip :))

You look so beautiful, covered in his cum and claimed :)

He leans down to kiss you, a thank you for what you did for him, but before he could even open his mouth you whisper a quite “I love you” into his lips…

the first “I love you” you and Simon had ever shared :((

Its safe to say he said it back :333

And he says it again with his face inbetween your legs a minute later ;)))

okay, okay, okay, I know I promised to upload this after work like....days ago BUT I totally forgot I had a concert on and didn't have time to finish writing it AND THEN this guy im talking to came over to meet my dad and everything just pilled up im so so so sorry...BUT in my defence, this is over 4k which is my longest fic ive written so far, I love y'all I promise

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU.

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 5 months ago

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You've been quietly seeing Cooper for months now. Avoiding the public eye while he's still in the midst of settling a long, drawn-out divorce. He's been exploring new things with you. You're a little on the demure side but willing to try most things when it comes to what Cooper Howard wants. Being in similar networks, one night, you both go to the same party separately. You get a bit drunk and wonder off from everyone else, with Coop following. Sexual exploitation, cnc, degradation? Soooft Cooper after. Idk just a thought. 👀

Duplicity (Part I)

Pairing: Prewar!Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,275

Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Possessive!Prewar!Cooper, jealousy, dubious consent, infidelity (physical and emotional), decomposing marriages, acrimonious divorce proceedings, alcohol use, choking, biting, degradation, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, soft ending.

Notes: I am such a sucker for darker portrayals of Prewar!Cooper so this took root right inside my brain, like, instantly. I think there's a lot more of The Ghoul already inside that man than many people talk about.

Thanks for the submission! I fell in love with this prompt and I will absolutely be continuing it; honestly, I think this version of Coop has so much potential and this framing is great fodder for freaky Prewar! antics. There's so much this man wants to try with (on) you.

This is more 'dubcon' than 'CNC', but there's always future installments. If y'all have ideas you'd like to throw on the pile for it, the askbox is always open! The length of this absolutely got away from me and I sincerely apologize for that. I am so bad at estimating how long my fics are gonna end up (I had originally guessed this would be around 8,500). Thanks for your patience and please enjoy!

"Oh, come on, you're gonna tell me you're not at all excited about this?"

Your coworkers words were more grating than usual as the two of you rode up towards your office in the elevator, alone save for the anticipation filling the small space thanks to the early hour.

"You really need to get a grip. Don't you also work at a movie studio? Haven't you met actors before?" you teased, trying to remain good-natured despite your annoyance, and despite your nerves. It was rather rare for you to be nervous about meeting with studio talent these days, but hey; even you were prone to a little fangirl behavior from time to time. You were, in fact, excited for a work meeting for once.

You'd heard Cooper Howard was actually nice compared to a lot of the actors you had to work with.

The early morning time slot you could certainly live without, as well as the hard edge of nerves that you couldn't shake, embarrassingly. For five years, you'd been employed by one of the country's largest and most prolific movie studios practicing contract law. Well, in name you practiced contract law. In reality, the department you worked for was so large that you were rarely involved in the actual negotiation process, the exciting part with the intriguing back-and-forth. Instead, you were left to finish things up, dot i's and cross t's. It wasn't exactly thrilling work, nor was it what you envisioned yourself doing when you were in law school, but the pay wasn't awful and everyone started somewhere.

Essentially, your entire job was to run around chasing (or sit around waiting for) signatures from people who usually thought they were better than you and treated you with contempt, so it was often difficult to feel any sort of genuine excitement. Granted, you were a little more of a fan of Cooper Howard than you were a fan of pretty much anyone else you'd met with, but you tried your hardest to remain professional and not embarrass yourself at all times. You'd grown up watching some of his earliest movies with your grandfather before he'd passed, and had even developed a little adolescent crush on him and his famous sheriff persona, but you also saw so much genuinely embarrassing name-dropping and star-fuckery in this job that you were determined to not come across that way.

Besides, there was enough of that nonsense in your household as it was, what with your husband in training as a junior executive thanks to his penchant for that type of behavior.

When you'd married him, bright-eyed and fresh out of undergrad, you hadn't necessarily been head-over-heels or anything, but wasn't that normal? Everyone around you told you that he was a good man, that he was the star to hitch your wagon to, and, in your youth and carelessness, you'd believed them unquestioningly, despite the fact that he never really had actively made you happy. The courting part of your relationship had been more like contract negotiations, long discussions about acceptable and unacceptable behavior in a marital partner until you'd settled on agreeable terms. The wedding had been beautiful and emotionless. You'd assumed that the 'happiness' part would come later, once you were both fully established and settled in.

It never did.

Well, the establishment came; you both graduated law school, you with honors, and when job offers had come in for both of you from the same firm that worked very closely with the studio he'd always talked about working for, you thought the deal was sealed. Your perfect life, perfect marriage were supposed to start the day you signed your offer. You'd found your stride in your work, bought a house, seen him get promoted...and you felt no more positive about him now than you had on your wedding day. The feeling was mutual, and it wasn't hard to tell; he'd had god knows how many affairs, lazier and lazier about hiding them over the years, including a number of flings with his assistant, who was undeniably in love with him, poor thing.

It was because of this that she clearly resented being asked to do anything that had to do with you, including arranging the half-cocked romantic gestures he'd perform in order to show others that he was a good husband. This was mostly made up of having flowers delivered to your office every other week, something he'd never take the time to set up himself, so naturally, it had fallen to the girl. Reserving little effort for the task, she had obviously made a standing order for a dozen red roses, sprinkled with baby's breath, to be delivered biweekly, and left it at that. It was a nice gesture, sort of, but frankly you'd grown tired of signing for the damn things every time when you didn't even like red roses, and he should've known that. You'd been married almost a decade.

Besides, the smell of baby's breath made your stomach turn.

Still, the poor flowers hadn't done anything, so you continued to sign for them, continued to let each bouquet molder away on the little ornamental table in the corner of your office. True, it was nice to have the splash of additional color, the life in the room, but increasingly the thorny blooms irritated you, looking at them distracting you with feelings of muted resentment.

That's what you felt as you looked upon them that morning, rifling through your file cabinet to find the proper contract as you waited, the door to your office standing open and allowing you to hear when the elevator doors opened. Standing there was the famous cowboy, dressed in a wool overcoat and nice slacks, smiling at you as you beckoned him and his companion, a tall, mustachioed man you took for his agent, into your office. Each of them shook your hand and took a seat at your desk, waiting as you made your way to your seat and began to chat with the unfamiliar man about the papers. Talent almost never had anything to say to you in these meetings, in your experience.

However, he surprised you, both by being fairly knowledgeable about the terms of his latest contract, as well as by speaking directly to you in a casual tone that implied he might even see you as an equal. Cooper Howard being so nice to speak to wasn't really a surprise, as he had a reputation for it, but you were shocked that everything he was currently going through personally didn't seem to impact his demeanor.

The woman representing him in his divorce had actually been in your law school graduating class, but you didn't figure that made for very good small talk.

"Alright, let's just make sure everything is squared away and we'll get this signed. " you said eventually, holding the little cluster of papers you'd scrounged up to scan it over. However, as the two watched you, your gaze caught on a misspelling; initially, you felt embarrassed, knowing it would have to be corrected, but then you noticed changes to the actual terms of the agreement and you fell completely silent.

Your eyes scanned slower as you quieted, realizing that the contract in your hands had changes that you didn't authorize, were sure that they hadn't authorized; subtle changes in the language that wouldn't draw much attention unless you were to slowly, carefully read through the entire thing right before the signatures went on...which was usually not the case. By now, the terms had been painstakingly ironed out and the thing had been edited and reread and reedited a million times. Typically, this meeting, the bulk of your job, was simply confirming agreed upon terms, collecting signatures, and filing the contracts away.

Something was awry here.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." you said politely, sitting up straight and smiling as calmly, as normally as you could. "It seems I don't have the correct paperwork. This can't be the current version of the contract. We may have to delay."

"This is ridiculous. Ever since Vault-Tec took over legal, you people can't seem to tell your ass from your elbow." the mustachioed man rolled his eyes dramatically. "You don't have a para or anything to keep shit straight for you?"

"I really am sorry. It'll just be a few minutes, hopefully." you apologized again, cringing. You'd requested a paralegal multiple times and had been told that your role didn't require one, but you weren't about to tell him that.

"Well, if you're gonna make me wait around, I'm gonna go place a few calls in the meantime."

With that, the man rose abruptly and stepped out into the reception area. You followed him with your eyes, slightly worried that he would hassle your assistant in his seemingly aggressive frustration.

"He won't bother your girl." the man across from you said perceptively, surprising you. "He might seem like an asshole, but he's a good guy. Always done right by me. Just a little overprotective."

"Well, I don't blame him. Especially if he represents anyone else that works for this studio. Now every single negotiation has to come under extra scrutiny, not to mention all the contracts signed in the last year since the takeover..." you mused, a little too honest, but uncaring.

"I mean, if they've got you signing these dud contracts, too, isn't that bad for you?" he asked.

You chewed your lip for a long moment, your eyes dancing over the glass paperweight on your desk calendar as you thought things over. It was a sort of odd moment, having famous movie star Cooper Howard expressing concern for your wellbeing and job security.

"Well, I suppose that depends on how I ended up with a bum copy of your contract. Could just be me being forgetful or grabbing the wrong folder at some point, which would certainly be on me...but if I'm honest, that doesn't really strike me as something I would do. Besides, I don't even recognize some of these terms."

"Lots of interesting stuff happening around here since Vault-Tec started buying everything up." he replied, a glint in his eye as he leveled his gaze directly at you.

"I agree completely. And, again, I'm really sorry about this. Let me look at this and compare it to an old one. I know I have a hard copy of the final edit here, and I know that this one doesn't match it. Just let me prove it and we'll sign the real one, if that's what you want. If not, I guess we'll decide where to go from there." you said, feeling infinitely more at-ease than you had before.

"Think your boss'll be alright with that?"

You gave a crisp shrug.

"I feel like my time working for these people is dwindling. Maybe not immediately so, but I certainly can't see myself advancing here. Don't think I fit the corporate culture. You know?" you laughed, and he joined you. It was almost surreal to interact with someone like him who treated you like you were a real person, who acted like a real person themselves.

"Nice roses, by the way." he said, gesturing with his head over his shoulder to the flowers on the table. "Pretty. Are they from your husband?"

His question seemed innocuous, so you weren't sure why your response came out the way it did.

"Uh, yeah. He sends them every other week. It's nice." you replied, your tone unnecessarily flat and sending his eyebrows raising, his head tilting about twenty degrees in intrigue.

"It's nice, huh? Is he in the dog house every other week?" he joked.

"I just don't really like red roses that much and they're all I ever get." you said simply, unsure how much would be too much to say in this suddenly inquisitive moment. "Sorry, that probably makes me sound ungrateful."

"Lemme guess...you like sunflowers."

His statement actually surprised you, since he was right; granted, sunflowers were about the second most popular flower in the country, and you had several paintings and tchotchkes featuring sunflowers up around the office, but it was still sort of odd to you for him to notice that.

"Observant, huh?" you blushed.

The smile he shot back at you was genuinely heart-racing, sending blood racing to your cheeks and your gaze skittering around your desktop as you busied yourself with a random stack of papers. The meeting finished up quickly when his rep stuck his head back into your office and called Cooper away, sending him rolling his eyes playfully as he reached across your desk to shake your hand once more, thanking you sincerely for your help before politely dismissing himself.

You were still thinking about the feeling of his hand in yours that night when you brought up what you'd noticed with your husband over dinner.

"Maybe you do need a paralegal if you're mixing up your paperwork that badly." he muttered through bites of his entree, not even fully lifting his head to look at you. "I'll see what I can do about that."

You rolled your eyes.

"No, I mean it. I think something weird is going on. Like I said, I went though the copy I kept and compared it to the one we had to sign. I didn't make some of those edits, and the terms of them were so unfavorable for them that I really get the feeling that they didn't make them. What if someone is messing with my paperwork or something? I'm the one that'll have to go to court and defend myself if someone ends up suing the company or the studio for contract fraud!" you insisted, your own meal hardly touched.

"Fine. If we've gotta go to court, we've gotta go to court." was all he said.

"We'd never win, though. They'd have a slam-dunk case."

He laughed in response, and you were shocked at how much the sound annoyed you.

"Oh, please. You think Vault-Tec doesn't have the money to keep them in court forever fighting over it? They'll run outta money eventually. Doesn't matter if they're right." he shrugged. "Don't worry about it. We'll get you a para so you can stop screwing up your papers."

You sat there in silence, unable to formulate a reply in your disgust with him. After a long moment, you excused yourself, emptying your plate into the trash before climbing the stairs to bed. The next morning, you called Cooper's rep the moment your husband left the house and invited him to come and pick up the contract copies from your office, all the discrepancies noted clearly. He happily agreed, the star showing up before anyone else had taken their places for the day.

"You're not wearing your ring." he said as he took the manila folder from your hand. You paused, confused, before focusing on your outstretched left hand and noticing that he was correct; your engagement ring and wedding band were missing, clear tan lines in their absence.

"Oh. I, erm, must've forgotten it at home." you replied after just a moment too long, your eyes flitting between his face and your naked finger as you felt your cheeks warm.

You'd never forgotten it before; putting it on was the first thing you did every morning to ensure just that. It was such a tiny, easy-to-lose bauble. Ever since you'd been given the thing, you'd been afraid of misplacing it and the reaction that would earn you. A muted tingle of worry crept up your spine that you may have dropped or lost it.

Both of them, though?

He thanked you sincerely once more, seeming like he wanted to say something else before dismissing himself. Both of you were a tad skittish at the sounds of people arriving in the hall outside, so you let him go, waving in response to the way he nodded at you as he pulled the door shut behind him. That night, when you returned home, you found your wedding bands sitting right on your bedside table where you left them every night. You were both relieved you hadn't misplaced them and curious about how you'd managed to completely forget about them that morning. Cooper Howard was quite the distraction, as it turned out.

You were still thinking about your interaction a few days later as you poured over already-signed documents from previous months, noting multiple differences between final drafts and signed copies, a feeling of dread building in the back of your mind. That smile he'd shot you from across your desk still managed to distract and make you dizzy, though, even as a memory, one you were indulging in yet again when the sound of the front office door opening broke your concentration.

"Your flowers are here to sign for!" your assistant suddenly called from the front of the office, sending you rolling your eyes at the timing until she followed it up with a pleasantly surprised, "They're extra nice this week!"

This sent you moving towards the door with just a little more hustle than usual, your brows furrowed deeper and deeper as a realization set upon you: it was the right day, but the wrong week for your usual rose delivery. The usual man was there to drop them off, standing right at the door and waiting politely. Same song and dance as usual.

"He picked out super pretty ones this time. Must be for something special." she mused dreamily from her chair as she watched you sign for them, nodding politely at the delivery guy as he let himself out.

There, on the desk, was a gorgeous, glossy blue vase filled with goldenrod sunflowers the size of your hand, nestled with tall, royal blue gladioluses and star-shaped balloon flowers. You could smell the arrangement from where you stood. Quickly, you carried them into your office and shut the door, not waiting for her to realize the date was off and start asking questions. Setting them on the usual side table, you inspected them closely. Nestled among the blooms was a thick little card, crisp handwriting inside the rich gold border when you opened it that read:

Thank you so much for your help with the contract edits. If you ever need to get ahold of me again, for anything, please don't hesitate to call me directly. - C.H.

Beneath that, a phone number that you promptly wrote into your address book and burned into your memory, a strange tingle in your gut as you looked your gift over once more. The card itself you tucked into your desk drawer, beneath some innocuous, boring papers.

You hadn't done anything wrong, except maybe in your employer's eyes, but you didn't want to risk anything seeming...untoward, despite your inability to simply throw the card away. You had the phone number now and didn't necessarily need to keep it, but something made you feel a little sad when you thought about tossing it in the trash can.

That evening, after everyone else had left, you called the number, fully expecting to have to leave a message and floored when he actually answered, rather quickly, in fact.

"Thank you so much for the flowers." you said softly, almost shyly after the two of you had exchanged fairly formal greetings. You should've followed up the statement with a "...but they aren't appropriate." or a "...but I'm married." However, you did not.

Interesting.

"Well, thank you for your help with the contract stuff. Really, it's so rare to find anyone really honest around here anymore." he said, and you could hear that killer smile in his tone. It sent your heart fluttering. "I'm still not sure what I'm gonna do, but I'll call you when I decide. Or maybe I'll come bother you at your office and see them in person. I didn't get to see the actual arrangement when I went down to order them, so I'm really glad you like them."

"You're always welcome to come see me if you need." you offered up much too quickly. "I usually stay late a few hours to look over things, especially recently."

"Well, you don't have to tell me twice." he replied teasingly.

After that, you'd swapped small talk for a few minutes before getting off the phone, the feeling of not wanting to hang up first heavy on both ends.

After that, flowers you actually fancied came for you every week for months on end, and still came to this day. It wasn't even the same flowers every time. He knew you liked sunflowers, but would often shake things up by sending arrangements of pale asters and black-eyed Susans, buttercups and gerbera daises, all in beautiful shades of rich yellow, studded with clusters of blue phlox, cornflowers, and larkspur.

His colors.

Over and over you'd told him that it wasn't necessary, that he didn't have to spend that much money on you just for flowers. But your arguments were rather flat and halfhearted; not only did you love having the gorgeous, vibrant blooms to brighten your office, you felt incredibly special at the effort he took to specifically gift you something you actually enjoyed. Besides, he refused to hear it, anyway, rebutting that he was a grown man who knew how to manage his money and what he liked to spend it on.

You started breaking up the bouquets of roses your husband sent, distributing them among the ladies in the office; some wanted color for their desks, others something to brighten up their window sills at home, and you were happy to provide.

The baby's breath, however, went into the trash.

You just tried to not think too hard about the lovely gifts technically coming from someone else's husband, including how the first few bouquets had come before he'd moved out of their shared home.

It had been when he'd finally done so that you two really started to become close. Already you'd reached the point of staying late an hour or so most nights just to talk to him on the phone in your office (with the door locked, of course), so you became quite accustomed to getting to speak to him directly, and regularly, especially when something was bothering you. At first, you mostly just talked about your days; you tried to avoid talking about your suspicions about your work, a little nervous about the security of your phone, so you largely listened to him talk about his latest divorce negotiations, his daughter, asking him questions about himself and answering questions in return. Sometimes, you would both lapse into a silence that was strangely comfortable, even over the phone.

Eventually, you both began to to open up more. You confessed that you got married for less than thoughtful reasons at a probably-too-young age, and all but said you regretted it. You also told him that you really hated your job, actually, and mused about the kind of work you'd do if you weren't where you were. Maybe something in the nonprofit sector.

He told you about his decision to get involved with Vault-Tec, about how he felt like Barb used his career to bolster hers, not caring what the impact towards him was.

Surprisingly to you, he never so much as implied that he resented her for it, but you could sense it there, deep beneath all of the very apparent feelings of betrayal and sadness. One night, he confessed that as much as he loved his wife, he didn't feel like he truly knew her anymore, that he'd always thought they'd shared the same values, and he now didn't think that was really true. There also seemed to be something else, something darker beneath it all, something that frightened him, but you could never get a good sense of what it was.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer, stealing rare opportunities to see one another for a few minutes during the day, trying to tide yourselves over until you could talk at night. Quickly, your talks became a necessity for you, a peaceful refuge where you felt you could truly get things off your chest with no judgment.

It became apparent that he felt the same the first night he'd called you at home.

The phone's ring had actually frightened you awake, sending you grabbing at the handset that lived next to your side of the bed in a blind, half-conscious panic. Your husband, asleep (or, based on the smell, passed out) beside you, didn't really stir.

"Hello?" you murmured, groggy with an edge of alarm.

"Hey." came a soft, familiar drawl. "I'm sorry to wake you. I didn't really know who to call."

Cooper's voice was a welcome sound, but the room, the whole house, was so quiet you weren't sure how much you could say without being overheard. For a long moment, you were silent, struggling to decide on what to say.

"Are you safe?" was the question you decided on. It seemed a little dramatic, but you weren't sure what was going on.

At the other end, there was a muffled squeaking sound, like someone shifting around in a leather chair, and a tinkling like ice in a glass.

"Yeah, m'fine. Just sitting here in the new place." he said, followed by an audible swallow. "So quiet. It's weird."

"Mmm." you responded cautiously.

Things were quiet for a time, and you felt a little awkward just sitting there, saying nothing, straining to hear any sounds from him.

"I miss you." he said suddenly.

"Miss you too."

"I'm sorry." he said again, and you could hear the intoxication creeping into his voice. "I know it's not a good time to call. Should've let you sleep."

"It's okay. Happy you called." you responded lowly, trying to use as few words, make as few sounds as possible. "Worried about you."

Finally, it seemed he was ready to say what was really weighing on him.

"Haven't slept without Janey in the same house since she was born." was all he said, his voice thick and strange. You wondered if he was crying, and it broke your heart.

"M'sorry, honey."

The pet name was soft and bittersweet as it rolled off your tongue for the first time. You wanted so badly to be able to be there for him, with him, keeping him company through this. Holding him.

Maybe if you were quiet, you could sneak out...call a cab from downstairs...walk down the drive and meet it...

But before he could respond, before your plan could form any further in your mind, your husband let out a cough, his chest jumping as he turned over roughly in bed. You lie as still as you could in response, trying to feign sleep, the phone cradled secretively against your pillow until he eventually resumed his deep, rhythmic breathing.

"He's there tonight?" Cooper asked. There was an edge to his voice that you didn't really recognize, but between the liquor he was almost certainly into and your still sleep-addled brain, you thought nothing significant of it.

"Yes." you said concisely, adjusting yourself just enough that you could crane your neck to make sure he was really asleep.

"Alright, I'll let you go, sweetheart. Sorry to bother you."

"You're not-" you began, but the line went dead before you could finish your thought.

The next morning, you'd tried to call him after your husband had gone, wanting to make sure he was alright after your call had ended so abruptly, but it was too late in the day and there was no answer. This made you worry that he was upset with you, that you'd done something or said something wrong in response to his vulnerability.

In fact, you'd been fretting about it, staring at the latest bouquet from him, some vibrant buttercups, chopped short and dotted with blue-and-yellow-streaked African violets, when your assistant poked her head in your door, an interesting glint in her eye as she spoke, pulling you from your distraction.

"Cooper Howard is here to see you." she said with a mild air of impression.

You stayed sitting until he strode in, thanking the girl as he removed his coat and hung it on the stand by your door. Smiling pleasantly at her, he shut the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before locking it. This sent you rising from your desk, making your way around the side to approach him, hesitating as you moved within a foot of him. He looked a little tired, which was unsurprising as you knew his sleep had been poor, but put together as always, clad in what looked like a thin denim shirt covered with a very soft-looking sweater. Standing so close, you could smell his cologne.

You'd intended to ask if he was alright, but you never got the chance. Cooper closed the distance between the two of you, his hands softly cupping your face as he leaned down to pull you into a tender, passionate kiss. You were taken aback a bit by the gesture, but easily let him guide you back a few feet until he was pressing your hips into the edge of your desk as he stole the breath from your lungs. Both of you were left panting when he eventually pulled back, quiet for a long moment as he petted your hair affectionately.

"Thank you for talking to me last night. I really needed it." he said, gazing at you tenderly before kissing your forehead. You didn't know what to say, and didn't get much chance to reply before he stepped away, adding "I have to get to set, but I wanted to come tell you how much I appreciate you. Talk tonight?"

You nodded enthusiastically, somewhat dazed as he went out. That day had dragged by so slowly, the minutes passing like hours until you could speak to him again. The next morning, his newest floral gift had arrived, and it surprised you: roses, but gorgeous, full blooms of a light purple that tickled you deeply. He'd never given you roses before, and you understood why, for sure, but these were beautiful. Your assistant seemed to agree, as well.

"Aww, how sweet." she smiled at you as she appraised the new blooms, leaning down to give them an appreciative whiff. "Love at first sight."

"What?" you asked, brow furrowed slightly.

She nodded to the flowers just inches from her face once again.

"Lavender-colored roses. They usually symbolize love at first sight. Or, at least, that's what I've read. Who knows, could be nonsense."

Her reply made your face redden again, taking the vase into your office and placing it in its usual place of honor. It had distracted you all day, another decade passing in your mind before you were able to call him that night.

"Did you like the roses?" he asked when he picked up. "I know roses aren't your absolute favorite, but..."

"I loved them." you said decisively. The heat in your cheeks was blooming further, intensifying, but the strange excitement that washed over you made it easy to ignore. "I really want to see you tonight."

That evening, he'd come up to your office and the two of you had shared a takeout dinner together, chatting and holding hands until it was time to part ways. Soon you were doing so most nights, ending with you in his lap, his tongue in your mouth as you rubbed yourself against his clothed erection, fooling around like teenagers.

This man was going to make such trouble for you, you could tell.

You also didn't care, really, which is how you ended up on your husband's arm, suffering through one of his colleague's fancy Friday night parties for once instead of sitting at home in your pajamas, clad in an outfit chosen just for the occasion.

Your dress wasn't especially scandalous, a dark grey wrap, soft and stretchy with sleeves that reached your elbows, the hem stopping just above your knee. Something comfortable and elegant, something you could wear to the office.

Something with deniability.

But you were also aware of the way this particular dress hugged every line in your body just right, form-fitting in all the correct places, making you feel feminine and sexy and powerful at the same time. Your husband complained it was "matronly", but you ignored him; his opinion didn't matter. Besides, the thing was nice and stretchy, so if anyone special found their way up your skirt for a few minutes, as you were hoping would happen, it'd be nice and easy to get in and out. You'd even worn a special set of underwear, red and lacy, beneath.

You only slightly regretted your choice of footwear, some very classy stilettos; while they really completed the look, sexed it up a bit, your feet had been aching for over an hour already, leaving you scanning the room for a free seat to flee to once you were able to slip away from the group chat you were currently enmeshed in.

The man you'd shared your home and bed with for the last eight years was strangely affectionate this evening, consistently cradling you into his side as he spoke boisterously and even occasionally sending a compliment your way. It made you wonder which young lady in the room he was trying to impress with his "perfect husband" routine, scanning around and noting several of his type; though, at least a few had already been crossed off the list. They avoided your glossy gaze, turning their faces into their Pip Boys or their wine glasses as your spouse continued to absentmindedly massage at your hip, his arm tight around you as he recited yet another unamusing anecdote to the men standing around you.

Among them was Bud Askins, head of some department of incapable jackasses with no moral compass, though which one, you could never remember. What you did remember was how often you caught him looking at you, the number of times he'd gotten close just to linger a few seconds too long. Fortunately, you'd always managed to slip out of the odd-feeling conversations he'd try to start with you. He wasn't the only one, either; so many of these men seemed eager to betray one another in basically whichever way presented itself first. It made you eager to remove yourself from this corporate world, to find a better way to live your life, and sooner rather than later.

Out of the corner, you watched as Cooper Howard sat on a chaise, sipping a cocktail and eyeballing you so hard you didn't even have to fully look his way to feel his gaze burning into you. You'd been waiting all week to make it to this party, not because you had any particular desire to hobnob and mingle with studio execs and Vault-Tec higher ups, but because you'd known the older man would be making an appearance.

You knew that, personally, he didn't really revel in the attendance of these get-togethers himself, but you also knew that socializing and getting face time with important people was one of the top ways that actors continued to get work. That was why he and Barb had quite literally had to iron out a social schedule with their lawyers: to ensure neither of them had more networking opportunities than the other.

He had to be glad that everything was said and done at last, finalized a few days before. You hadn't really discussed it; he hadn't brought it up much, save for to confirm it to you as truth. It certainly didn't feel like your place to mention it, so you didn't, wanting to be as supportive as possible.

An especially loud burst of laughter drew you back into the present, just in time for your husband to make a joke at your expense, sending you rolling your eyes and pushing your hand against his chest as he bent to pepper your face and mouth with half-assed, drunkenly apologetic kisses. You gave him one peck in return, not wanting to be the topic of gossip for the night. Feeling strange kissing your husband, especially with your present company included, you peeked over towards him as slyly as you could. There was a polite smile on his face, but it didn't touch his usually warm eyes, a tight irritation there as he cradled a half-full gin martini against his chest. A feeling of guilt sunk into your chest, but you were quickly distracted as the group around you moved into the kitchen, sort of herding you along as they went.

A couple hours later, when you finally managed to excuse yourself, the evening had begun to wind down, though not entirely; about two thirds of the guests had slowly flowed out, but those that remained seemed to be getting a sort of second wind where they all convened around the pool outside. You stood hidden away in the corner of the living room the party had vacated from, finally alone save for one or two caterers moving around, collecting abandoned glasses and emptying ashtrays in silence. Scanning the group outside, you failed to locate the one guest you actually wanted to see.

In fact, it had been over an hour since you'd even laid eyes on the older man, and you pondered that fact as you turned and made your way down the hallway, trying your best to look for a bathroom without seeming like you were casing the place or being too nosy. However, the cocktails you'd been nursing just to have something in your hand had been stronger than you'd anticipated, and it made walking completely straight, seeming normal, much harder than you'd thought. Your feet ached deeply from the uncomfortable shoes.

Eventually, you found a nice washroom, decently appointed with a massive mirror, into which you stared for a minute or two, willing yourself to sober up more as you washed your hands. You didn't want to make yourself seem foolish in front of Cooper, and you were fairly positive he wouldn't have left without you two speaking.

When you stepped back out into the carpeted hall, you assessed the wall of windows and the adjacent hall to your right, decided that he likely hadn't gone that way, and turned to head back towards the pool area, almost willing to ask one of the staff if they'd seen the incredibly recognizable man around recently, but you were quickly stopped.

"Nice dress." a low voice murmured, lips pressed firmly and suddenly against your ear as a pair of strong, wiry arms wound around your waist. The gasp you let out quickly melted into a giggle as his lips found the nape of your neck, kissing and nipping there playfully as he pushed his hips against your ass; a much bolder move than he would typically pull, but you were certainly open to his attention as he turned you, pressing your back into the wall behind you to kiss you deeply.

His hands were knotted deep in your hair as his tongue worked his way into your mouth, his thigh rubbing at the apex of your own as best as it could. Soon, you were far too worked up, arms wound around his neck as he shepherded you into a nearby open door, shutting it firmly behind you.

The guest room he'd tugged you into was cozy, but pristine, the low, full-sized mattress to your eleven o'clock covered with plush layers of bedding and rows of decorative pillows. Quickly, he tugged you over to the foot of the bed, urging you down onto your back as he hovered above you, one knee braced on the bed as he latched his lips onto your throat, dragging his teeth and tongue along your pulse point as his hands pushed at your skirt.

Despite the two of you never really going at it like this, his hands didn't stop the roaming along your body they'd started doing in the hall, didn't even pause as he continued to work your dress up your body, bunching it at your waistline, quickly and roughly exposing your lacy red hip-huggers to his hungry eyes. A rumble left his chest, low and deep like a growl, when two of his fingers met the warm, wet gusset covering the mound between your legs. For a minute, he rubbed firmly at your erect clit through the rough material, making you squirm and whimper. Eventually, he pulled his fingers away, tucking them into the waistband of your panties at your hip and yanking at the seam there.

"Wait, baby." you chastised, words still sort of slurred, but they obviously didn't register or were ignored, as he continued to yank at the fabric until it gave way under his hand, pinching lightly at your skin as he ripped the leg of the garment open before repeating the motion on the other side. This made you frown, upset at the loss of your favorite pair of underwear before he'd even properly gotten to see them on you.

"Cooper, stop." you said, trying to push your hands against his chest, your heart racing when he continued to ignore you, yanking the fabric loose from beneath you and stuffing it into his pants pocket.

Your lover's lips were attacking the exposed side of your throat and shoulder, nipping and sucking and huffing, your back pressed firmly into the plush mattress as you wriggled beneath him. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, between the one-too-many cocktails you'd had during the party and the way he was touching you, moving you, positioning you the way he wanted as he softly gyrated in between your legs, kneeling over you on the edge of the bed.

"Maybe we should wait." you breathed, your breaths deep and deliberate as you tried to sober yourself up enough to string together a clear thought.

It would've been difficult enough simply trying to resist his kisses, but your head spinning from the alcohol only made it harder. Still, this was some random Vault-Tec executive's guest bedroom. There was a party going on. Your husband was likely still outside mingling, possibly looking for you. The odds of that weren't high, but they weren't zero. While the two of you had fooled around a bit up until now, his hands slipping up your skirt once or twice during your make-outs in your office, you couldn't help but feel like you wanted things a little different for the first time you really had sex, for when you really took that plunge and committed to this path.

The man on top of you seemed to feel differently.

"Don't think so." he purred lowly into the crook of your neck, running his teeth along your collarbone and making you shudder. You could smell the gin martini he'd been holding earlier on his breath. "You made me watch him touch and kiss on you all night, and now you're gonna make it up to me."

Cooper's warm, softly calloused hand found your throat, holding you firmly as he gazed down at you. He wasn't choking you, per se; at least, not in the way that you would've anticipated someone would choke you, squeezing around your airway until your breathing was cut off. No, instead, he pressed his fingers and thumb into the soft flesh on each side, digging into your twin pulse points and slowing the flow of blood to your brain.

It didn't hurt or make you feel panicked. In fact, quite the opposite happened, your squirming finally ceasing almost entirely, your brain buzzing with warm, tingly docility. Between that and the already warm feeling coursing through your veins, you haltingly allowed your defiant legs to fall open halfway, slowly forgetting the reasons you'd been resisting, forgetting where you were.

"That's a good girl. You know who you belong to, don'tcha?" he praised, his free hand stroking the sensitive inside of your thigh reverently. The feeling of two of his thick fingers sliding inside of you suddenly sent you whining in response, both at the stretch and the slight sting of it. That sent a smirk ghosting across the actor's face, leaning in to run his lips along the soft, flushed skin of your cheek.

"Pretty little cheatin' slut. Now, be quiet and let me have what's mine."

His words both stung and fanned the flames in your gut, leaving you feeling frozen under his touch as he pulled back to look at you, now free hand leaving your throat and moving up to finish pulling the top of your dress down enough to expose the bra beneath.

"Mm." he hummed as he ran his free hand along the softness of your exposed clevage, though it was a curt sound. "This why you didn't wanna fuck me? Had other plans, huh?"

Briefly confused, you shook your head vigorously, your heart rate revving up once more at his tone.

"It's not like that, baby." you pleaded hoarsely, but your protests died on his tongue as he forced it back into your mouth, his hand knotting into a fist between your breasts, twisting the stretchy nylon of your bra's waistband around his knuckles and using the leverage it gave him to yank you up, dangling you for a few seconds above the bed as the seams popped and cracked at the tension. He was trying to destroy the thing.

A small whimper of discomfort left your throat as you felt the hooks in the back digging into your skin; the noise seemed to lift him partially out of the fugue he was immersed in, and he dropped you back down to the bed, the cups now bunching uselessly over your breasts, leaving them exposed to his warm hand. He was gentler with them than you thought he'd be, softly cupping them and rolling each nipple between the fingers on his free hand before sliding it up to cup your face, holding you and making you look at him as you muffled your cries into his palm. Your vision was blurry with unshed tears.

His fingers were still buried as deep inside you as he could get them, fucking you shockingly rough, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he continued to toy with your aching clit. One particularly perfect movement made you cry out rather loudly, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as you came close to your peak.

"Nuh-uh. If you're gonna cum, honey, you're gonna cum on my cock." he whispered, his voice more steady than you'd heard it all night as he pulled his hand from between your legs. "Is that what you want?"

You couldn't stop the way your head set to nodding, the fat tears in your eyes finally spilling over and running down over his fingers as they cradled the side of your face, still muffling your sounds. Your eyes slipped shut for a moment, trying your hardest to collect yourself to some degree as you could hear the quiet sounds of his belt and fly coming undone.

A small voice in the back of your mind noted that he definitely wasn't wearing a condom as he let the leaking head of him trace back and forth through your soaking folds, tapping along your clit and gathering the slickness there as he teased you. The worry you'd felt melted away rapidly with his teasing, though, and soon you were breathily begging him to fill you, to properly fuck you.

Your name dripped from his tongue, syrupy and hot, as he pushed inside you.

"Fuck." you cried.

You couldn't see well in the dim glow of the bedroom, but the sensation, the slight burn of his girth stretching you open was vivid and detailed as he slowly began to work his hips back and forth, giving you a few breaths to sort of acclimate to his size before moving more earnestly. The bed frame beneath you was surprisingly squeaky as he fucked you harder, and you wondered, mortified, just how apparent the sound would be from the hallway. At least you knew he'd locked the door.

However, you didn't stay clear-minded enough to fret forever, his cock inside you and his fingers back on your clit rapidly soothing you into a state of hypnotized bliss, your body jolting along beneath his with every rough thrust into your flesh.

"This body belongs to me. This pussy belongs to me." he growled, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force.

"Oh, Cooper. Fuck me, baby." you begged, your nails digging hard into his shoulders through the softness of his shirt.

He sighed your name in reply, an echo following it a moment later.

The sounds of your coupling filled the room, making it difficult to hear anything outside, save for the occasional very loud splash from the pool in the courtyard.

He slid his tongue back into your mouth, winding and rubbing it along yours as he continued to use your body. Another echo of your name from somewhere that wasn't here.

"I think someone's looking for you, sweetheart." he whispered in your ear, sliding his tongue along your lobe and making you throb around him.

It was clear as day now: someone out in the hall was calling your name. Someone with a voice that sounded suspiciously like your husband's through the thick wood of the door.

Suddenly, there were shadows moving beneath. The sound of the handle jiggling made you freeze like a deer in the headlights; his movements slowed, but he didn't stop pumping between your thighs as he cast a downright impish look from your face and back to the door.

"Occupied, man." he called, pulling back enough so that his free hand could move down to slowly flick at your clit once more. Your hand that wasn't trapped between your bodies moved to cover your mouth, desperately trying to silence the whimper his touch drew from you as he continued on. There was some more shuffling, the shadows barely visible beneath the door dancing back and forth.

"Oh, erm. My bad. Sorry." the voice called, moving away.

It resumed calling your name as it faded to nothing.

Shockingly, you felt almost nothing, save for the older man's pubis grinding against your clit deliciously as he slowly began to build his pace back up, the creaking of the bed frame slowly growing louder and louder once more as the calling faded. There was no guilt, no sour sting of knowing you were betraying someone who supposedly cared about you like you thought there'd be. There was only the pleasure your lover was gifting you and the satisfaction of knowing you wouldn't be pulled away from him in this moment.

When the calling faded away to nothing, he picked up the pace tenfold, fucking you with wild abandon as the bed slid back against the wall with a thud. Your vision was quickly blurring again under his intense, animalistic attentions.

"Fuck, Cooper. I'm gonna cum..." you breathed harshly, tucking your head against his firm chest, your cheek rubbing against the overheating, rumpled silk of his shirt.

That drew a groan from him, his hips stuttering for a moment before regaining their tempo.

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock, pretty girl?" he replied, his question low and urgent as his lips pressed to the crown of your head. "Go ahead, make a mess all over me."

Regardless of how quiet you tried to be, a fluctuating, nasal whimper escaped you as you fell completely apart under his touch, feeling your greedy cunt fluttering as you did, trying its best to milk him for everything he was worth. It must've worked well enough, as he seemed immediately overwhelmed by the sensation, his hips beginning to buck wildly as his fingers dug harshly into the plush meat of your outer thighs.

It was nearly impossible to remain quiet as he fucked you hard through your orgasm, pushing you closer and closer to overstimulation as he continued to abuse your swollen walls. Cooper's breathing was loud and harsh, broken up with muttered curses and little huffs of praise that made you clench around him even harder. At one point, he lowered his mouth back to your chest, grabbing the closest nipple between his teeth and lathing at it with his tongue, making you moan loudly.

The sound must've really turned him on, as he let out a long, low groan in response, his hands pushing on the backs of your thighs to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, folding you in half as he brought his other knee up onto the bed, thrusts reaching even deeper than they had before. You jumped as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it quickly and firmly, again rapidly bringing you right back to the edge, your aching pussy fluttering hard and making him groan once more.

"Cum with me, baby." he whispered feverishly, lips pressed to your forehead as his nose tickled along your hairline. "Cum with me while I fill up this pretty pussy."

This made you whimper, his words shooting down your spine and straight into your gut, which clenched tight in response, and it was all over for both of you. Your second orgasm wasn't quite as intense as the first, but it was no easier to stay quiet as you rode out the overwhelming waves of pleasure tucked beneath him, especially as he dug his teeth into the side of your neck to keep the growl that escaped him muffled. The sensation of his warmth pooling in your womb, his teeth back on your skin made you see stars.

You weren't sure how long you two laid there, him slumped loosely on top of you, most of his weight supported by his knees as you held him close, your own legs lowered back down to wrap around his waist. He was still throbbing away inside of you, and the feeling was so surreal; you and your husband hadn't had sex for months, but before that, it's not like it was a regular occurrence, and you certainly wouldn't let him do this. For years you'd been afraid of catching something...or having a baby that would tie you to him forever. When you'd first married him, you'd just assumed that you would eventually feel ready to have children with him.

Then again, you'd also assumed you'd eventually really love him, or feel loved by him, and look at how that worked out.

"Come home with me." your lover murmured into the side of your sweat-slicked throat. "Stay with me tonight."

His request settled into your chest weightily, excitingly, tingling its way upwards over your breastbone and spreading to your mouth, sending you scrambling to hold back the grin that wanted to steal across your lips. Your heart raced with a kind of pure, joyous elation you hadn't felt since you were young. A response didn't immediately jump to your lips, however; instead, you brought both hands up to cradle the back of his head, petting his slightly damp hair and neck affectionately.

Were you really considering just flat-out not going home to your husband? It wasn't like he'd never done it before. Hell, for all you knew, he'd given up his search for you and gone home with one of his roster. Maybe that hadn't even really been him at the door. Maybe it was Bud Askins looking to finally shoot his shot with you or something.

Frankly, you didn't really care.

"I'd love to." you said quietly, both of you moving to sit up.

For another few minutes, you sat on the mussed bed together, holding and petting tenderly at one another as you let your breathing and body temperatures return to normal. Eventually, the man beside you stood to right his clothing, his belt jingling musically as he tucked himself away, still turned so you couldn't really see anything. He was such a tease.

Pleasantly, you noted that your face no longer burned like it had earlier; that is, at least, until you stood to join him and felt a quick, warm rush of slickness race down your inner thigh, thinning and cooling as it wound its way around the back of your calf towards the floor. The gasp that left you instantly drew your lover's attention, and his gaze was still shockingly hot as he scanned you up and down.

"Makin' a mess." he teased, cutting his eyes at you playfully as he tugged the bedding loose, using the corner of the top sheet to quickly and crudely clean you. An indignant little noise left you at that, embarrassingly close to a cluck, which he chuckled at as he tossed everything down on the floor.

"Don't want some poor, unassuming soul sleeping in the mess, you know?" he explained when you looked at him quizzically.

"Oh...I still feel kinda bad that someone's gonna have to remake that bed." you responded, leaving the 'likely an underpaid housekeeper' part unsaid.

"Point me to the linen closet, sweetheart, and I will happily make it happen. Little late to save that labor now." he smirked. You took his point.

"Alright, let's get out of here before you get us caught." you replied, rolling your eyes to try and keep the impending grin off your face, failing miserably when he swatted you firmly on the ass. Your hands flew to your mouth, covering it to hide the cackle that jumped out of you, sending you glaring at him.

"C'mon, this way." he grinned, tugging you back down the hall towards the bathroom you'd used. Confused, you followed wordlessly, moving closer and closer towards the wall of "windows" you'd seen before until you realized that one was really a door to the gorgeous deck you could now see. As you stepped outside, the last remnants of the day's scorching heat kissed at your face. You were pleasantly surprised to see a set of stairs that led down to the ground level, into what looked like a strange statue garden: clusters of pillars along a winding gravel path, topped with geometric marble shapes of seemingly no significance. The whole thing was fairly ugly and reeked of "more money than taste", which wasn't surprising for one of the best and "brightest" at Vault-Tec.

At the very least, there were some very lovely bushes and flowers, the aroma of which enveloped you as the two of you descended the wooden stairs. Maybe fifty yards out, the edge of the flawless black driveway was visible.

The two of you stood out back for a while, hidden beneath the deck stairs; you leaned against the warm terracotta wall and watched him smoke a few cigarettes as he finished sobering up enough to drive, the ghost of his hands still running all over your body, his teeth still digging into your neck and making you shiver despite the balmy heat. Absentmindedly, you wondered if you would bruise where he'd bitten you.

You stood with your legs close together, a little afraid that you'd have another mess on your hands if you weren't careful. He didn't seem to notice, but you were quickly realizing that he was slicker than you'd given him credit for. In an attempt to distract yourself, you turned your eyes to the treeline, watching the crisp leaves sway back and forth in the soft breeze. You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding.

"I can't believe the number of people who had the gall to ask me where Barb was tonight." he muttered eventually, breaking your companionable, though contemplative shared silence.

You turned your gaze back to him, but remained silent, sensing one of the times he'd appreciate a chance to simply vent. Cooper Howard wasn't really a man to complain much, so when he wanted to, you let him.

"It's not like the divorce was a secret or anything. Been in and outta the headlines, the trades for a fuckin' year. Not like we both haven't been out alone. But it just so happens that tonight of all nights everyone wonders where she is within earshot. I don't understand the desire to play weird mind games with people you barely know."

There was real, deep frustration in his tone as he spoke, his eyes gazing out over the ugly little statues, unseeing. Softly, you reached out and put your hand on his arm, massaging gently.

"Some people just really enjoy other people being miserable because they, themselves, are miserable. Marriage issues are like catnip to the gossip mill. Especially the marriage issues of the beautiful and famous." you teased, fawning towards him and batting your eyelashes as you leaned against his shoulder.

"Oh, it's not just my dead marriage they're out there yappin' about, sweetheart." he grinned, burning cigarette hanging from his lips as he leaned towards you. "You had a face like a slapped ass when he kissed you, y'know. They ate that shit up."

"I think you mean you ate that shit up." you rolled your eyes, cheeks hot again as you turned your face to hide from him, from the truth of his words. It was rapidly coming to a point where you couldn't even stand your husband's touch. Maybe it really was time to start considering your options for divorce.

Well, the fact that you were even standing here said that it was time for divorce. No maybe about it. Your stomach turned unpleasantly, wondering how much fighting and negotiating you'd have to do yourself.

"Hey." he called, pulling you from your snowballing thoughts. "It's all gonna be alright."

You didn't look straight at him, but you let him slip his hand into yours when you felt it brush your palm. The feeling was shockingly soothing, and you quickly pulled him close for a long hug, smiling into his chest when you felt him kiss the top of your head.

"How are we getting outta here?" you asked when you pulled back, giving a casual glimpse around when you heard a particularly loud sound from the pool on the other side of the house. "Where's your car?"

"It's down the hill a bit. I just walked up here." he said, nodding towards a little gap in the trees you could now see, just the slightest glimpse of yellow nestled there.

"You parked that thing on the street?" your voice piqued, knowing how particular he was about his beloved car. To be fair, it was very nice.

"Yeah, in Beverly Hills. I think it'll be fine." he chuckled. "Besides, you never know when you'll need to make a quick and low-profile getaway. A valet would make that awfully tough."

Taking in the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, the devilish way he was looking at you again, you couldn't help but suspect that this whole ordeal had been orchestrated. You also suspected you ultimately didn't care; you felt happier, calmer than you had in a long time. Cheeks burning again, you looked away from him shyly as the two of you fell silent once more, the stars struggling to be seen overhead among all the light pollution of L.A.'s buzz as you began to walk towards the driveway, still hand-in-hand.

The sidewalk was dark, save for the elegant street lights, the sky overhead painted in subdued inky indigos as you made your way down to the little yellow roadster. You weren't surprised when he led you to the passenger's side and opened your door for you.

When he slid into his own seat, his hand went right to your knee, petting sweetly as you two began the drive to his new place. You sat back in the plush, soft leather seat and watched the fancy, oversized houses go by. The affectionate hand on your knee slipped upwards after a few blocks, kneading the muscle of your thigh absentmindedly as it slowly worked its way beneath your skirt. This sent you tensing in anticipation, but his hand simply reached your mid-thigh and sat there, warm and pleasant, for the rest of the drive out of the hills, moving northeast towards Pasadena. The drive was longer than one would think, for the distance...if one had never been to Los Angeles, that is.

Overall, things were quiet again, and your mind turned to reviewing the events of the party. When the image of him standing over you, your leg caught in his grip as he maneuvered it over his shoulder flashed across your vision, you felt your swollen cunt clench, embarrassed that your engine was still running after all that. Not nearly as embarrassed as you felt when another warm trickle ran down the inside of your thigh, pooling in the skirt of your dress, though. You fidgeted in response, reaching underneath yourself as casually as you could, trying to gather the soft fabric to soak up the mess. Fretting, you tried your best to remember anything you could about stain removal on leather as the car slowed, creeping down a little residential street lined with condos.

The little brick townhouse looked nice, even from the outside, though certainly much less opulent than the home he'd lived in for the last fifteen years. You'd seen photos of it. This place was still lovely, though, and the smell of fresh paint tickled your nose as the garage door opened and then closed behind you. The room was pretty empty from what you could see, save for some boxes stacked in the corner and a tool bench, as you turned to find him staring right at you, his hand finally slipping further and further up your skirt until he was softly brushing at your slit with his fingers again.

A huffing little moan left you, quiet and tense, as two of those long fingers slipped back inside you all of the sudden, pushing whatever had leaked down your leg back up inside you. You clenched around his hand involuntarily, and he let out a dreamy sigh in response.

"Still makin' a mess." he murmured, leaning in and pressing his lips back to yours as his free hand moved up to cradle the back of your head. For what felt like an hour, you simply sat in the quiet garage, immersed in one another's breathless kisses just like all those nights in your office. Except now, there was no chance anyone was going to come along and interrupt you.

The fingers inside you remained still throughout, his thumb stroking teasingly at your abused bud before eventually sliding his hand away.

"Alright, kiddo. Let's go inside." he smiled, turning to pull himself out of the low-sitting vehicle with just a bit too much swagger and making his way to your side. Letting out a deep sigh, you took his hand as he offered it, cringing at the wet feeling of your inner thighs. The shit-eating grin on his face was impossible to avoid as he leaned in close, the musky, fading smell of his cologne wrapping around you.

"By the way, if you make a mess on my new floor, I'm gonna make you clean it up with your tongue." he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his fingers played in the stickiness coating your skin. An involuntary groan left you, your hips twitching towards him with zero permission; that drew out a gasp when you felt something poking you back, digging into the softness of your belly.

You got the distinct sense that the evening was far from over.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 year ago

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 20

Part 1 Part 19

Steve’s shirt is wet where Eddie’s face is pushed into it, and Will’s hand is clutching his arm tight enough to hurt. Steve wants to sink into it. But the door's still open, and Wayne’s shotgun is lost in the woods somewhere. He hopes the man won't be too mad.

"Okay, okay," Steve says, taking two shuffling steps forward. "Let go of me."

The arms encircling his waist drop him instantly. His own weight settles back into his heels at the same instant the vertigo hits. A small hand clutches his elbow, keeping him upright with a grunt of strain.

"Shit, Harrington, sorry," Eddie says, voice warbling. "What do you need? What do I do?"

"Just–" he closes his eyes, listing sideways. He's so tired. "The door, Eddie."

The door closes with a quiet creak, lock sliding home with a metallic snick!

It's a tissue paper door, Steve knows it's a tissue paper door, but his legs go out anyway, finally safe enough to drop. Eddie catches him, hands clutching hips as he practically drags him to the couch.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "You're okay, right?"

Steve nods. His forehead lances with pain every time he grimaces, and his cheek throbs. The wound on his shoulder has definitely reopened, and something unpleasant had happened to his ribs when he'd fallen in the woods. But he’s fine.

Will interrupts the conversation by dumping the remains of the Munson's medicine cabinet on the coffee table.

"You're bleeding," he says.

"Shit, right," Eddie replies, rifling through the contents. It's slim pickings, but Eddie plucks up a few bandages and gets to work.

His mouth is a moue of concentration as he combs Steve's hair off his forehead and puts bandages across the entirety of the laceration before blessedly leaving it alone once he reaches the hairline.

Eddie's prodding the bruise on Steve's cheek hard enough to feel the bone, when Will asks, "My Mom?"

"She's fine, Byers." He tries to smile, but loses the will halfway through, closing his eyes.

Will bursts into tears. "Thank you," he says.

Steve flops his hand forward. Will takes it. Steve doesn’t realize how cold his fingers are until Will’s warmth starts leeching into him.

"Your Mom's a badass, baby Byers," Eddie says. "She was always going to be fine."

Steve hums his agreement, too tired to vocalize. There, sitting up on Eddie's ratty couch, covered in dirt and blood, Steve falls asleep with Eddie's palm cupping his cheek and Will’s hand in his.

He's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he awakens, Eddie's sitting with his back to the couch. His hair's plastered to his head with grease and grime, and he's starting to smell a little. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him.

"Eddie?" he asks.

Eddie turns to him, a finger to his lips as he gestures his head toward where Will's sleeping in the recliner across the room.

"Back with me, big boy?" Eddie whispers.

Steve nods. "Did you guys make it out okay?"

Eddie scoffs. "We were fine, man." His eyes well, a few tears running down his cheeks. He swipes them away impatiently. "We thought you were dead."

Steve feels small, his voice comes out even smaller. "I'm sorry."

Eddie turns back around, back pressing into the couch, eyes trained on the door. Steve reaches his fingers out, rubbing back and forth slowly, consolingly. "Thanks for coming back."

Steve's breath hitches. It wasn't a sure thing. The line between Steve coming back and Eddie finding Steve's body decomposing in the Byers' driveway was razor thin. He should know - it's painted along his forehead in claw marks, painted in the way his vision is still a little red with the blood that had dripped into his eyes.

"Anytime," Steve says. Does it count as a lie when he really wants to mean it?

"Good, because we're like, out of water, dude," Eddie laughs. "The kid's the only one smart enough not to forget his backpack.”

"Fuck!" Steve says, a little too loudly. Will stirs, then settles. "Not the quarry again."

Eddie laughs, but not like he thinks it’s funny. “Yeah, man. I’m with ya, but there’s the kid to think about now.”

They both look over at Will. His face is smushed into the back of the chair, knees curled up to his chest beneath the blanket Eddie must’ve given him, like even in sleep, he’s doing everything he can to make himself a smaller target. Something unfamiliar in Steve’s gut wrenches.

He doesn’t want to go back there, maybe ever, but especially not right now. Right now, the thought of crossing the threshold out into the wider world makes ants crawl under his skin.

The Demogorgon’s claws are still parting his skin like butter every time he moves wrong. They’d moved through him as easily as Steve’s Father’s knife had while he’d skinned the deer, Steve standing beside him as he tries his best not to cry.

Steve doesn’t want to be the deer. But the shotgun is gone, and so the hunter must become the hunted.

“I lost the gun,” Steve says.

Eddie’s shoulder slump, Steve’s hand falls, settling in the crack between the couch and the middle of his back, stuck there when Eddie leans back into it. “I figured,” he sighs, sounding disappointed, like maybe there’d still been a glimmer of hope that Steve had just snuffed out.

Silence descends. It feels like the force of gravity kicked up a notch, the way the quiet fogs over him and pushes him down down down. The silence drowns, let’s the Demogorgon prowl through his mind. Eddie Munson throws him a brick disguised as a life preserver.

“I saw your shoulder,” he says, barely audible.

“Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie asks, turning around completely, back to the door. His eyes are wide. Steve can’t read his face at all.

“What’s there to do?”

Eddie sighs. “Nothing, maybe,” he says, spinning his rings on his fingers nervously. “I cleaned it up as best I could, but that’s bad, man. We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Steve’s eyes flit over to where Will’s still sleeping, but Eddie’s eyes stay planted firmly on his face. He doesn’t answer, what’s there to say? There’s no way out of here.

“Let’s just get water so we can stay alive, just a little bit longer,” Eddie says when it becomes clear that Steve has nothing left to say.

Steve nods, asking, “should we bring the kid?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but Will beats him to it. “I’m not a kid,” he says, clearly still half a sleep with the way his words are slurring together. “I’m coming.”

“He’s right,” Eddie says. “I mean, not about the kid thing, he’s definitely an infant, but we can’t leave him unprotected.”

“Hey,” Will mumbles, burrowing into the chair further and falling back asleep, clearly reassured that he won’t be left behind.

“We can’t keep him safe,” Steve whispers.

Eddie reaches out, pats his knee. Steve misses the warmth when he pulls it back.

“We’ll do what we can.”

Steve doesn’t want to go back out there. They’re safe in here, hidden away. But he will. Because Eddie asked, and Will needs him. That’s more than he’s had in a while.

He hopes it’s enough.

Part 21

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

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bella-goths-wife · 8 days ago

Note

What if the Vees accidentally killed Pet during one of their punishments? I know only angelic weapons can kill them, but this is a “What if” scenario. Maybe make them hellborn?

What if the Vees accidentally killed pet (not canon)

Warnings: usual abuse, violence, death, drug use, Vs don’t grieve normally at all, character deaths, descriptions of corpse

Vox:

If we’re using human logic that sinners can die instead of canon logic that sinners ain’t killed but are just temporarily gone unless angelic weapons are used, then we’ll assume that sinners can be killed in similar ways to humans but maybe higher power levels required to kill

With this logic in place, I think that Vox would probably accidentally kill you during a punishment out of his jealousy of yours and alastors past connection with alastor almost purchasing your soul before Vox

Most likely he’d be using his usual punishment method of using his electrical abilities and the soul deal the two of you have to send electric shocks down the soul chain

Only the jealousy would heighten the amount of electricity used and in this case would kill you

Vox wouldn’t notice you were dead for a good few hours, assuming it was one of your usual blackout spells that you usually got after electrical punishments

It’s only he tries to shock you awake and you don’t respond that he realises you’ve died

Voxs mind would be split into two halves

One half thinks about the fact that he’s murdered you, the person he views as his daughter and the person he wanted to keep hidden away and protected more than anything

The other thinks about how angry he is that you had the nerve to die, how dare you? You were meant to be a loyal pet and now you’ve abandoned him like this?

Vox holds your dead body close in his arms as he debates in his mind what he should do

He carries your corpse to your bedroom and lays you down in your bed and treats you almost childishly as he tucks you in and hums you a song

Your room would become your grave as the vs leave you in it to be able to visit your corpse in an attempt to deny that you’ve passed away all together

They’d leave your corpse to slowly decompose and wouldn’t let it deter them from visiting, even in death you weren’t gifted dignity

It’s only due to his powerful position within the vees that Vox is allowed to live after killing you

Valentino and velvette still hold resentment though and have many plans to overthrow him and change the power dynamics

Valentino:

Valentino would have probably been most likely to kill you during a drugging punishment

He would have miscalculated the amount he gave you, causing you to overdose painfully

His first thoughts would be how to cover up your death so that no one knows it was him, selfish as ever

He grieves in his own way I suppose

He was never really obsessed with you as a person like the other two were, he was obsessed with the forbidden aspect of you and your emotional reactions and he more so grieves the loss of those two pleasures rather than grieve you as a person

He’d make quick work of having your body disposed of, paying some lower level demons to hide it away somewhere before killing them after your body’s gone

If your body was ever discovered, he’d instantly set it up to make it seem like Alastor was the one to kill you by desecrating your corpse to match alastors other victims, an act that had him feeling a small amount of guilt but it was quickly washed away by the need to cover his own back

He knows that fuelling voxs hatred of alastor would have him distracted enough to never find out the truth

He can’t help but feel small amounts of guilt for how your death effects velvette and Vox though, with both of them being anger filled bitter people

They both notice how he’s more attentive to them during this time but brush it off

If it were ever discovered that Valentino was the one who murdered you, Vox would kill him

It would take some internal debate considering Valentino is his lover, but his obsession for you outweighs his care for Valentino

Granted Valentino’s death would be quicker then your own, which is quite ironic really

Even In death you were still lesser than him

Velvette:

Velvette would accidentally kill you by taking it too far in a beating and pushing you down only for you to break your neck on some furniture

Velvette is not a feelings person, but I believe her killing you could make her feel so much so soon that she just shuts it down completely

She’ll push the idea of your death so far down within herself that she’ll convince herself that your still alive

She’ll be so far in denial that she’ll even think she hears your voice talking to her

She’ll carry your body around with her, dressing you up like a doll and doing makeup on your decomposed corpse to make it look less noticeable

She’ll take you everywhere with her, talking to you as if you were still alive and even scolding you when she thinks your ‘ignoring her’

Of course Vox and Valentino notice very quickly

Vox is outraged that she’s killed you, Valentino not so much but still relatively angry

But then they notice how velvette had driven herself mad in her guilt and grief

When confronted and forced into acknowledging the truth, velvette would break as she’d clutch your body and sob angry tears

Vox and Valentino decide that she has to die

Partly out of revenge for you, but also partly to put her out of her madness and misery

Velvette would be killed quickly while clutching your body and what’s left of the vees would put the two of you in your room and treat it as your graves

This was a depressing one to make ngl 😭

This is deffo not my best work but oh well

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ryuzakemo128 · 2 months ago

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Goodbye My Sweet Lamb

Pairing: Konig x Female Reader

Content Warning: implication of cheating, a long term affair.

Words: 403

Note: Prequel to Grim Reaper in terms of continuity.

Note 2: Two songs I recommend listening to this with are either:

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Made of Stone by Matt Corby

Masterlist

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Dearest

Love

My moon and stars.

My first

My last

My forever in an hourglass

If you didn’t do that, I would have stayed longer. Yet you decided what you wanted is something I ‘couldn’t’ give you. You don’t tell me what you want.

You expect me to be able to read your mind.

Tell me what you want for once in your life.

Otherwise, you will never see me again.

I can’t keep shaping my life to suit your needs anymore. I am at the end of my rope.

I feel like this relationship is coming to an end.

I want to blame you.

Yet I don’t have the heart to do it.

I want to hate you.

Yet my heart doesn’t let me.

So, this is me letting go of this relationship.

You will always be my first.

But I fear you will always be my last as well.

I digress. As I know, this will not be read.

It will be kept in a drawer somewhere, collecting every speck of dust.

While you fuck another sex worker inside a brothel.

I will never see you again.

Just as you will never see me again.

When I tell you, this relationship is dead.

I speak the truth.

The grave is dug.

The ashes are spread.

My bags are packed.

My furniture is sold.

I am already gone by the time you come home.

I took the liberty of taking a plane back home.

You will never know the heartbreak I feel.

As I know, you don’t care.

You will never care in the same way I would have wanted you to.

I heard what other people were saying.

I am not deaf.

I can hear what they mean when they speak your name instead of mine.

I am slowly dying.

Slowly decomposing.

Inside this relationship.

Which should have ended years ago.

I wasted my twenties thinking you were devoted to me and me alone.

Thinking you were devoted to me as I was to you.

I will never make the same mistake twice.

Thank you for teaching me this valuable lesson.

I will never forget what you have taught me.

I will carry it inside of me always.

I thank you for teaching me how it is to hurt so deeply.

Thank you.

I love you.

Farwell My Sweet Lamb.

My First

My last.

Farewell.

Goodbye.

Sayonara.

Adieu.

Au Revoir

Ciao

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marisol-holme · 4 months ago

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The retired good girls guide for writing

I haven’t always been able to understand myself.

I never felt like I was able to clock pure basic needs. Couldn’t tell if I was hungry or thirsty. I finished my meals early, preferring to always feel full, in a silent critic of my mother and father’s controlling rule over my life. A few bites of fuck you always left on the plate. I liked to see how far I could push it. How little I could drink, sleep, or eat, and still function. A true desert island scenario would see me lasting years; I had inadvertently trained myself for it. Except my desert island was more devoid of emotional fulfilment and attention.

I had to get creative. I developed some interesting tendencies, sure. But mostly I just wanted to escape. Now my parents never went out, and my internal world was already tumultuous at best, so I did what anyone would do and read. I read voraciously. The ability to turn off my hunger had seeped into all areas of my life. A fugue state dissociation through most of my early years through to adolescence. But I was able to come alive when I was reading. When I read, it was like my first breath. Hungry. I could imagine these worlds and built them up easily, colourfully within my mind’s eye. I'd picture the strong female characters that I admired. I’d taste food, hear music. It was the only time I was ever able to really live, before I had to go downstairs and pretend to eat.

Unwittingly, my upbringing fostered just the correct environment for me to develop a writer’s hunger. Because a writer is always a reader before they grow mad to write. I grew mad fast. I had to. I had to create worlds for me to escape into, away from all the shouting and fighting. Alchemise what I’d read into something new and original. It helped that I was an avid daydreamer, although a psychiatrist might call me a maladaptive daydreamer, but it only ever occurred to me when I was bored. Parallel to this, I grew into shame, so what I wrote I would throw away. I sadly have none of my early works. They are long decomposed into sub-atomic and absorbable waste, probably seeped into a water system somewhere and live inside all of you. Yuck. Not even my best work.

Then I grew up and I had no dreams because I was not hungry. I hadn’t picked up a book in a long time. I dabbled with things that made me feel warm. Partying and shallow conversations. Grotty pubs and sticky clubs. Good friends made me feel a good kind of warm. But it took me a long time to find my way back to literature. Through a work stint as a Nursery Practitioner, I found my way back into writing. You see, at the nursery we had to send updates to parents all about what their children were getting up to. I enjoyed this task and wrote the children’s days like stories. Descriptive and alive. I’d got the bug and the bug had bit me. I didn’t last long once I had started writing again and I quickly found myself working at the Ideas Foundation.

Through my new employer, I was encouraged to trial as much as possible to find out what I enjoyed doing. I was also very privileged to have access to several creative professionals who genuinely wanted to help and mentor those younger than them. Mentors can see all your ducks and help you to get them in a row. My ducks were all over the place and needed very graceful guidance. You push my ducks too much and, well, they explode. Poof!

Speaking to seasoned professional copywriters, I was able to glean their persistent journey into the profession. The confusion I once had around my goals has seemed to have dissipated. The ability to feel hungry for life and understand myself has only grown. My spark is back.

The excitement and giddiness I feel when I think about myself as a writer is immense. The energy can fuel me for days. I look to the bottom left of my documents and the number of words that can pour out onto a page grows and grows with each project I set myself. The possibilities as a writer seem endless from this perspective.

I understand that there is a lot more to these dreams that simple want. I must be focused. Persistent. Take up the offers of guidance from those around me. Accepting critic and moving towards goals. But the potential is there. I understand myself a little better. I value my work a little more. Hopefully, one day in the not-so-distant future a book of mine might get thrown away and end up decomposing in the damp soil into tiny fragments that find their way into us. At least that work will be better and born of something other than the child’s will to survive and create. That would make me feel okay.

#female writers #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writer community #personal blog #professional blog #The retired good girls guide for writing

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imweirdimjazzy · 5 months ago

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Questions of Hell

Pairing: Alastor x GN!Reader

Description: after tiring a day, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for the radio demon chasing you with questions spending the night, right?

Warnings: mentions of drugs and that’s about it (alastor is prick btw)

Word count: 2104

A/N: hello! This is kinda my first time posting here in tumblr so bear with me on my first post here. Also this isn’t proofread so there could be couple of mistakes here and there so I’m sorry about that. No use of Y/n. But please enjoy it! Btw this fic can be taken as romantic or platonic either could work. Enjoy! :)

For most of my human life I thought death would be simple and morbid. Once life expectancy reaches its limit for how much it can go, the body starts to get tired and the brain will shut, just as the body decomposes.

And just like that you would be dead.

I never tried hard to question the afterlife since it had gave me a headache if I had think too hard about it but I do admit I had a few times where I did think about it too hard.

I just didn’t expect to wind up as a goddamn sinner in a literal pot of hell.

I can admit I wasn’t exactly the most holiest person. I fucked up. Quite a lot of times. And I suppose that life is all about whether you be rewarded to get into heaven or thrown down to hell for punishment.

And for that I now have to deal with the princess of hell and her friends in the Hazbin Hotel.

Charlie was energetic to know that I was another guest at the hotel ready to redeem sinners and probably grab the chance to get to heaven. Seems quite ridiculous once the opportunity was handed to me. Honestly I stayed because I knew nowhere else would let me stay without paying or doing something to repay back.

Yet I got to meet some of the most interesting people. Starting with Angel Dust who was porn star himself and only seems to make it his whole personality but he sure knew how to make a party start going. He also makes anything—and I mean ANYTHING to be dirty.

Vaggie who seems to be strict on everyone and trying her best for all of us to actually have good morals. Sure, we didn’t care but we all understood she wanted for the best of us. Sir Pentious was there to spy on them because of the Vees but then accidentally liked the idea of staying and making a better change of himself.

And there was Nifty who has a certain quirk driven into her personality that was unlike everyone else but she was almost a kid just needed to be protected. Just try not to get stabbed by her. Husk who seems to tell everyone to fuck off even though he’s bartender and you’re sitting at the bar specifically wanting a drink. He acted he hated everyone, but he never really did. He just hated someone who seems to fake who they actually are.

And I’m guessing that’s why he isn’t particularly fond of Alastor.

Alastor is a unique demon. To say in a short sweet way to not say any bad word on his name. Yet it’s hard to say he’s quite a mystery to all of us. Charlie might own the hotel but Alastor is faculty manager of the hotel. He’s always looming somewhere in here and always there with an eye to watch us.

I have to admit I even avoid him. His presence was kind I never had bump into, I rather make it stay that way.

My legs had grown numb and heavier as I kept walking back to the hotel. I was exhausted from Charlie’s shenanigans today. Trying to encourage other sinners out there to come to the hotel and save themselves from the extermination. Failed horribly since how many either attempt to kill us, offer sex, or offer straight up cocaine.

I gave up and had left Charlie with the others to keep going. It was getting late either way and they were planning to go into club.

Didn’t want to get myself into too much trouble anymore either way.

Pushing the doors to let myself in the hotel—I had let out an exhale that I had held all day. My body was slumped and all I could think was my comfy bed.

“My, my, you look quite a mess dear!”

The radio voice had made me slightly jump out of my skin.

To the right of me I could see Alastor sitting on a couch in the lobby. One hand with whiskey in a glass cup and the other with a book. His legs crossed with one leg on top bouncing to the sound of jazz playing background.

“Alastor?”

“Didn’t expect a fellow like me up around this hour, but I couldn’t resist such a great novel here wouldn’t you say?”

He made that little hum that sparked a few radio statics in his voice.

“Look, if you’re here to mock or annoy me today I make sure those antlers of yours are gonna be long gone before you know it.”

Alastor laughed and got up with swift movement with his cane. That smile was almost stitched to his face every glance I took of him. I expect there won’t be a day where I don’t see that venom smile of his.

His hands clasped in front of him as he eyed me down. “Now why would I do that? I merely checking up on is all.”

He said it with such a smirk in his voice.

“Sure, whatever, do what you want I guess,” I grumbled under my breath.

Attempting to head upstairs, Alastor tried to get in my way as he kept reappearing in front of me in every corner I try to go.

“What the—“

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going?” A playful tone was layered into his voice. Letting out chuckle as his antlers move just for a second.

He knew it was getting on my nerves.

“To my room. Is there something that you want?”

I was a bit hesitant when I first spoke, especially since Alastor was a type of demon who never necessarily wants nothing out of someone except manipulation.

He makes that same hum again, letting out a sing-song voice. “Well, I’m bored and I’m in the mood of doing something.”

“Okay—kill someone or some deer.”

I tried again walking away but he reappears again in front of me on the steps of the stairs. Keeping his eyes on me as he leaned on the handrail of the stairs. I could tell from his eyes that my annoyance was kicking the roof by now.

“Not really in the mood for that kind of fun tonight dear. I was actually hoping to maybe play some sorts of game with you.”

“A game?” I questioned.

“Yes! Just any sort of ordinary game. A game where I can ask questions about you and you have to answer them.”

I blinked at him for a moment and then narrow my eyes.

“So you’re interrogating me.”

“No, nonsense! Now, come on, sit on the couch and make yourself comfortable.”

Alastor nudge me downstairs and I follow him. I had no choice and I rather didn’t wanna push any limits with radio demon exactly. He wasn’t the type to be messing around.

Suspicion was written all over my face as I sat down.

Alastor offers whiskey in a glass with a smile. “Whiskey, dear?”

“Um—-no, no thank you.”

He sets the glass on the side table along with the book. Peering to my side I notice the book was the classic Dracula book.

Alastor sat on the other end of the couch. A leg propped on the other. Resting his chin on his hand on the arm rest.

“Now, I’ll start of the with an easy question to start off soft,” stated Alastor. “Do I annoy you?”

“Yes. Next question.”

His smirk grew wide yet his eyes narrowed down on me. Letting out a laugh that sounded for sure forced but as well annoyed.

“Okay, let me ask an easier question. What is your favorite color?”

“Oh well um—maroon. Maroon is my favorite color.”

Alastor hummed to himself. “Quite an unique answer. Didn’t take you as the type to like color such as maroon.”

“Red or maroon. I just like good color of red. Next question.”

Alastor tapped his fingers along the arm rest as he thought of another question to ask.

“What’s your favorite time of day?

Looking back at him with a tilted head I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Alastor rolled his eyes jokingly and chuckled, seeming slightly amused of me. “I mean exactly what I said. What is your favorite time of day? Mornings? Afternoons? Nights?”

He lists off with this condescending tone, as if he spoke to me as a child.

“Watch your tone, and watch your ears, deer,” I hissed. But since you’re so damn curious. It’s night. And sometimes late afternoons. Not as much anymore though. I love them more in human life.”

“Human life you say?”

Alastor watches me as I adjust the black turtleneck I wore.

“Next question please.”

Alastor didn’t say anything but made a louder hum as he thought. Still overbearing me with annoyance of course.

“I’m running out of quite a lot of questions here but I suppose I should’ve asked this first, how are you liking this hotel so far?”

The tone switches and audibly notices it. Turning into this nonchalant tone. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be curious or crack me under pressure with his eyes seeming to only stare at me.

With a sharp inhale I spoke direct.

“Annoying as fuck. I never was too fond of the idea of redeeming since it was hard to wrap my head around the fact that sinners here can even get the chance to go up to heaven with the rest of angels.”

He kept silent with his smile but I kept continuing.

“I didn’t think it would work. And I still have mixed feelings about it but…I do have to admit I kinda like the friends I made here.”

His eyebrow raised and he tilted his head almsot intrigued of what I had said. “I see. And these friends you’ve made here..”

His smile twisted into a smirk as he leaned forward slightly, his elbows on his knees.

“Any particular ones you admire the most?”

It was a question that had me actually thinking this time around and I knew it was a way for Alastor to get to me, and I didn’t want him too.

“Well, each person has their own unique thing to admire.”

He tweaks his head to the side and only narrows his eyes. Still with smile.

“Charlie can be a lot and maybe too hyper, but she’s willing to give people a chance. Vaggie pushes everyone and is harsh but does it for us to get better.. Sir Pentious is someone willing to give up villainous tendencies. Angel is…well Angel but he is a friend that is loyal and would do anything to back up friend.

Husker and Nifty are the same as well. All of them have everything to admire about.”

Alastor listened intently on how I spoke each of the hotel residents living here

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

He sat back once again, his legs still crossed and his hands back in his lap. Alastor chuckled again, looking at me for a moment.

“And what about me? Is there anything you admire about me?”

I scoffed and smirk a little.

“A bit full of yourself are you?”

His eye twitched a little and seemed ready to respond, but I quickly added on.

“You always stay in control. Even if you aren’t or you’re not wanting to, you always are. You piece of shit who certainly earn a spot living here. I’ll give you that, but even I can admit that you’re intelligent in what you do. Even how manic and evil it can be.”

Alastor chuckled again. He was quite amused by my words. That wasn’t what he was expecting, but he was satisfied by it. He leaned forward a bit again, resting his arms on his legs. His elbows on his knees once again as he stared right into your eyes with his permanent smirk.

“How observant you are my dear. I thought you’d think of me as a annoying bastard”

“No, I also think that too.”

A smile spread on my lips as genuine the pit of fire in hell and before another word had slipped out of Alastors mouth, a rush of familiar friends came through the door.

“I need fucking a drink what the hell was that!?” Angel's voice rang through the hotel and same with others.

I laughed and got distracted by them as soon they called for me but Alastor sat on the couch there observing the others.

Asking himself many questions of himself now.

For how much this sinner might’ve made him rethink his plan.

#the radio demon #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

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pierofilm · 8 months ago

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untitled project, corpse bride (teaser)

author's note. a jungwon 7k oneshot corpse bride inspired with him as a 'psycho serial killer butchering everyone in the train' i did since a year ago, but im not satisfied with it yet but here's a teaser! i haven't written in awhile so it might be crusty rusty lol but yep it will be out this month, hopefully ♡ trying to get back into my momentum.

warning. subtle graphic description of murder, gore. / excessive tagging wouldn't be used but a tagging system of playing card symbols i've created so please read at your own discretion when the full fic is out.

Horrendous. Awful.

Not quite like the picture perfect image he had been fantasising about whenever he'd like to.

But he likes it, more than he would like to.

Awfully likes it.

He just needs to fix it a little more. Just a bit would do.

A bride on her merry way down the aisle of promised vows of happily ever after, a sweetened pursed up glossed lips and irises, couldn't she grow any more sweeter than this? Perhaps, it could. But to him, your shattered delicate state was much more sweet than he could taste, he could even sniff it into his soul—dark, dark, terribly dark soul.

Your bouquet, strip to nothingness where restorations could no longer be made was evident with madness. Or was he, the madness in itself? Perhaps, it is. What is there to deny?

Now the question is, what happened? Was it an arranged marriage on the foundation of a million bucks or perhaps even better, a mine of gold? Or was it actually true love at first sight? A runaway bride with her lover but was unfortunately shot to his death, or maybe, maybe fell to his death down the cliff? Or was it betrayal?

Which one is it?

Which one did actually happen that it has this tremendous effect in making this sweet of a delicate bride stranded somewhere in the city, boarding a train in all her fleeting gloriousness that was all for her cherished husband-to-be to relished on?

How amusing.

Where did your smile go? Your pitch black mascara smeared, tainted with pearl tears. Glossed lips now chapped and dry. The overall makeover he was sure took a horrendous amount of preparation was replaced with an image of a decomposing corpse bride.

But he likes it.

Of course it would, why wouldn't he?

He wouldn't need to go through the tremendous hassle of butchering another one when you're all here, all ready to be his next corpse bride in collection.

It just needs a little more, a little more — effort.

To make you his perfect corpse bride.

Silence.

Nothing came.

Only a deafening silence in constant rhythm of beats, accompanied by (Name)'s rampant heart as the main vocal. The train's intercom and the sound of the train tracks was what served as the instruments, side vocals by the distant screaming ahead the carriage.

All of it, the entire piece of orchestration of all led by the conductor with his baton. However, the conductor was eerily silent. Weirdly, horrifyingly silent.

"Whose bride do we got here?"

A hiccup escape from the bride's throat as soon as those words reverberated from the conductors lips.

Amused by the unusual sight you don't often see everyday especially while boarding a train, the man let's put a satisfying groan as he sat down facing the bride, comfying himself for another break session.

He's sitting down? Are you fucking serious right now?!That particular sentence echoes beneath everyone's mind in varying volumes and expressions. No one knows how long will it take. But everyone was sure as hell didn't want him to sit that long.

Get lost. Just get fucking lost!

But one should know that one single wrong step is only a foolish's mistake.

Therefore, it was a silent agreement of all;

To stay still.

Do not anger the lion.

Or perhaps, the conductor if we were being classy here.

"Since you didn't hear it, I'll repeat my question," Jungwon grins behind the cat mask, "Where's your husband?"

An orchestration of a bloodbath; scream once, your head gone. Try to run, don't bother, just crawl. But Jungwon wouldn't mind a bit letting your head stay intact a little more, he just thought you would look a lot sweeter with your delicate face and piece of dress splattered with the perfect ingredient.

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #enha scenarios #enha oneshots #enha x reader #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon #jungwon oneshots #enha imagines #yang jungwon x reader

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ataraxiaspainting · 11 months ago

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Animal Cannibal.

Yan Dottore x F Reader.

Synopsis: Violent individuals were frequently drawn to you, including your dear friend Willow, who shares your affinity for this destructive behavior. Your stalker, too, possesses a similar infatuation with you. The bond between the three of you lies in the intertwined emotions of violence and love.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence/gore, stalking, cannibalism, minor character death, implied future kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of not SFW, and non-consensual human experimentation.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Goo Goo Muck by The Cramps

Killer Queen by Queen

Psycho Killer - 2005 Remaster by Talking Heads

I Want To Break Free by Queen

Tip Toe Thru’ the Tulips with Me by Tiny Tim

Exploration by Bruno Coulais

Take on Me by a-ha

You Are My Sunshine by Charles McDonald

Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin

Dream A Little Dream Of Me - Single Version by Ella Fitgerald (feat. Louis Armstrong)

“But love shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg!” – Possibly in Michigan (1983)

*~*~*~*

i. “My own experiments have given me a deep understanding of the true nature of suffering… and I’m keen to share it with a willing guinea pig, hm?”

You found a strange man outside of your house.

He was taller than you–with hair the color of mint that covered his eyes, his beard long and poorly taken care of with split ends and some leaves and small sticks stuck to the thicker parts of it.

He waved at you when he saw you approaching. He did not scare you, not one bit.

He did not blend into his surroundings well because of how unique his appearance was. He wore an open black waistcoat with some of its buttons hanging on by a loose thread and nothing underneath. His pants were torn from the knee down. Grossly, you smelled him before you even saw him.

“Hello, sir,” You say, stepping a bit closer carefully, skillfully, being sure to not make a sound to startle or agitate him. You have become well-acquainted with unfamiliar gentlemen lurking around your residence as daylight fades, after all. “It’s getting late, isn’t it? Do you have a place to stay? There is an inn nearby I think if you don’t.” For better or for worse, stealth is something you are quite intimate with. “Sir? Are you alright? Sir?” The man did not respond, simply looking past you like you were not there.

He looked on into the brightwood trees, the wild, overgrown bushes dotted with purple Sumeru roses, and the rising, circular moon. You have a sudden flash of inspiration; since you have no weapon on you, you could bite him and claw at him if he tried anything. Your eyes go downcast, to his tattered, dirty leather shoes, as you dismiss the idea.

“Excuse me? Do you need something? Sir?”

“I don't,” The man finally said, his voice raspy. “What about you? Do you live somewhere?”

“Here, I live here.” You could not hear what he mumbled as a response because of how quiet he was. “I live here. This is my home. You are outside my door and I can’t get in. Please, if you don’t need assistance, take a few steps back from it.”

Instead of looking at him, you look at your door. That is when you saw it; a hairpin lodged into your lock.

The man took it out and ran into the forest.

Despite the slight dents on your front door's lock, your house remained in good condition. Its aged appearance stood in stark contrast to the lush greenery that thrived just a few meters away. The wood showed signs of decay, with splits and a distinct scent of dampness and decomposing fish. Attached to the house was a collection of neglected Sumeru rose bushes, stunted and infested with flies. A rockery filled the space with an abundance of rocks, while a fairy ring composed of squishy brown toadstools emitted a dreadful odor when mistakenly stepped upon.

ii. “There is a sickness inside of me. I feel it eating away at me, eroding my mind and body. But I do not care. If I have to suffer for knowledge, I gladly will.”

The well outside your house was, for lack of a better word, still decrepit. But still, it seems like the man did not do anything to it. On the first day you moved in, all alone, the old couple that lived a hundred or so meters away made a point of telling you how dangerous the well was, and they warned you to be sure you kept away from it.

You found it as soon as you stepped onto the property, it was in front of your house after all, smelling strongly of damp, dirty water, behind a clump of trees—a low brick circle almost hidden in the high grass. There were nests of drain flies that from afar looked like crushed pebbles. It made you step back a bit in complete disgust before you turned in the opposite direction to put your things down.

Like most Sumeru forests, there were plenty of types of animals. There were crystalflies that were sometimes the only light source you had, frogs that sometimes crept up your legs as you walked in tall, wet blades of grass and nearly made you scream every time and lizards that always somehow found a way inside and slithered across your floors.

There was also an orange cat, who sat on walls and tree stumps and watched you while meowing loudly but slipped away hissing if ever you went over to scare it off.

You spent the first two weeks after you moved in making adjustments to the rather old house. You hardly ate or slept, you just worked. There were days when you did not change clothes or drink water even, being so focused on your work that you hardly noticed anything else around you.

“This is my favorite!” exclaimed Willow, pointing at the Padisarah Pudding that was blocked off by a wall of glass.

“How much mora is it?” You asked, taking out your wallet. “I'll buy it for you. I am buying some Samosas here anyway, so it is no trouble. If you want, I can buy you some too, I recommend getting the potato and pea one.”

“No,” Willow answered, shaking her head while chuckling. “I'm fine. I have to use up some old vegetables and meat anyway at home before they go bad or my parents are going to kill me for real.”

“Alright, be sure to check the ingredients beforehand for any dirt or mold,” you said. “‘I do not want you getting sick.”

You stood by one of the bakery’s windows, observing the rain pouring down. This rain wasn't the type you could venture out into; it was the other kind, cascading from the sky and creating splashes upon impact. This rain was serious, and its current agenda was transforming the streets into a murky, soggy mixture.

There was nothing to do here other than talk to Willow and wait for your food. Not that that was a bad thing in your book.

You had met through a mutual stalker, to put it simply, and now are inseparable. Even though that man is currently rotting in a prison cell, the past still influenced both of your actions. You just thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for granting you good fortune. With every new stalker, Willow seemed to be connected to them somehow, making you two even closer than before. You bond over your shared reverence of violence and love.

So, you start talking.

You start talking with a tone akin to someone making small talk over the weather, but instead of dark clouds or how bright the sun is, you talk about the man you saw yesterday. Willow listens, nodding a bit from time to time while still looking both outside the window and to the glass wall where the desserts were placed for the viewership of the customers. From the way she smiles with every word you say, you know you have piqued her interest yet again.

“Interesting.” She finally says, her back turned to you as she looks out to the rainstorm.

iii. “I wondered, why does a man who has done nothing think he deserves everything? That is what this experiment is about.”

“Hello?” You say, opening your door. “You're back.”

“Yes,” The man answered, playing with the buttons on his torn clothing. “Only for you, beloved.”

“Should I be honored?” You asked. “Who are you? What are you?”

“Your prince, what else?”

“Who or what else are you?”

“Someone utterly in love with you, someone you love too.”

“How do you know that?”

"My mouth,” The man answers, leaning in closer to you with his tongue out. “Look—look at it. The better to eat you with, my dear. It hungers for you. I just know you are the one to finally satisfy it. It is in a wolf's nature to feed, after all.”

“I see.” You look down as he kisses you, showing no resistance. He has holes in his shoes. His big toes are sticking out like sore thumbs. You suppose that they are, in a way.

“You have two choices. One, I will eat you now; or two, I will cut your arms and legs off one by one and eat them in front of you slowly as you cry on the floor covered in filth.”

You considered this carefully as you thought of an answer, preparing to ask him why.

So, you do, because he does not stop you and you want to know, don't you? He does not stop you.

He says for love.

You ask again.

He once again says it is for love. You say that love isn’t something given as part of an exchange or contract, that what he is asking for is bitter and dry.

He simply laughs. “For love.”

“But do you love me?"

“You smell so good, like the finest rose in all of Sumeru, all of Teyvat, even all of Celestia.”

Struggling would be useless. “Have there been others?” You ask.

"You must be the seventh," he remarked, leaving you to grapple with this realization. Escape became an impossible feat as he denied you any chance to flee.

As if responding to his words, the door creaked open, followed by a gunshot.

iv. “I could have simply sliced her apart the moment I saw her and threw her to my patients, but I could not waste someone as fascinating as her. She is a treasure trove of knowledge, and it is rather rare to find someone as interesting as her, my assistant.”

The man fell to the floor grasping his shot through chest. Willow helped you up. Life quickly faded from the man's once concealed eyes, his red eyes.

“The plan worked,” Willow said. “Good job. He won't see you anymore. We make a good team I think.”

You agree.

“You should boil some water.” She said.

You then shrugged. “I'm getting tired of soup.” You responded. “I want sauce or something to go with the Samosas.”

Willow did not say anything for a moment.

It was dark outside now, with the rain still falling from the sky and making tiny splatters on the soil, making it hard to see out the window.

Perhaps making soup for dinner was not a bad idea after all. Days like this called for comfort. “Fine,” You say, and Willow smiles. “I’ll start prepping ingredients.”

“I’ll run to my home and get the leftovers I talked about.” She is already putting back on her coat before you can rebut.

You sighed as you heard the door close. It was time to get to work, you suppose.

“Come out, my friend.” You take the meat cleaver out from the kitchen drawer where you put the rest of your knives, the said cleaver still stained with blood from the month before. “You are unsightly if I am being perfectly honest with you.” You mutter, shaking your head.

…

Dinner went off without any problems. It was a lovely feast. However, heating the Samosas without breaking them was kind of difficult for you because you only had one small pan and one large pot.

Something creaks in the distance.

Creeeeeeeeak. The floorboards. You and Willow are too busy talking to notice. The sound came from your bedroom. A man with a mustache the color of rotting mint that covered his mouth and chin, his filthy brown hair long and dirty, and even some animal fur being laid about everywhere on his scalp.

He sneaks out your bedroom window.

His shadow was hardly seen by either of you because of how fast he ran.

He was like a spider. The comparison was sort of funny because he knew how much you hated them.

He has to eventually make his way to Port Ormos to catch his boat back to Snezhnaya.

But that can wait for later. You are so much better than business and any other projects he is currently doing or has discarded.

All he can think about is you. He thinks of what to tell the current him, of how many stalkers you and your friend have murdered in retribution for their harassment.

Would he be delighted?

Would he be angered?

There is no way to know for sure. After all, whenever someone tries to talk to him they have to tread the line between being too nice and being too rude unless they want to find themselves on the other side of the operations.

There is just one more thing he needs to check before he goes. Just one. It will only take a minute. It will be quick.

He steps on the old well’s edge and looks down into the murky water.

He sees one of the clones’ skulls floating on the surface, its disintegrating bone covered in flies fighting each other for the tiniest scraps of fat.

They buzzed and buzzed until he could not take it anymore and threw a large rock, breaking the cranium and scaring away the flying insects, though there is no doubt that maggots are being born where the eyes and tongue used to be.

You and Willow throw the bones down the well. Just what he thought.

Good.

v. “My work is the purest form of art there is. It requires painstaking detail and absolute perfection, all in the spirit of scientific advancement and understanding. As an example, the first part of this experiment in particular is a success.”

#yandere #author aya #yandere x reader #yandere dottore #dottore #fatui harbingers #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere dottore x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #yandere fatui #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere il dottore #yandere il dottore x reader

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sirenjose · 1 year ago

Text

Hunter Norton Backstory Trailer Analysis

As a rule, the sons of miners follow the occupation of their fathers. Once Norton’s father died, and his mother also likely dead by then too, he had no other choice but to become a miner if he wanted to survive. Especially with how poor they likely were, Norton’s father (and mother) likely left almost nothing for their son, forcing him to work hard to support himself from a young age.

Based on Norton’s comment about living like a “rat” for 20 years, as he is 28 in the present, Norton’s father potentially died when he was 8 (his mother potentially died before then), leaving him an orphan.

A Mine Regulation Act in 1872 prevented children under the age of 12 from working underground. Until then, he would likely have been kept to surface work, such as:

Sorting and transporting materials

Loading and unloading transports

Assisting with general maintenance and cleaning

Delivering messages

Etc…

An Educational Act in 1870, which applied to England and Wales, made schooling compulsory for boys between the ages of 5 and 10, while an Act in 1872 applying to Scotland made school compulsory for kids between 5 and 13.

Once he reached the age of 12, the Regulation Act in 1872 would continued to limit his work hours, which prevented boys between 12 and 16 from working more than 54 hours in 1 week or 10 hours in 1 day. It also required them to have 8 to 12 hour breaks between “periods of employment” (defined as starting when they leave the surface and ending when they return to the surface).

Once he was old enough, regular miners were expected to work at least 12 hour shifts (though this varied from mine to mine) on weekdays. And we know from Norton’s deduction 2 that he worked longer than any of his coworkers, while his 3rd letter states, as a habit, he enters the mines at least 30 minutes before the others.

Conditions in the mine were hot, musty, and cramped (as mine owners didn’t want to spend extra to make them bigger), increasing the chance of accidents. We can actually see just how narrow the tunnels usually were in the trailer.

Miners also worked in complete darkness except for lighting they had to buy themselves. In fact, they had to buy much of their own equipment.

Unfortunately, wages for miners were incredibly low back then. Miners were paid by the quality of what they produced rather than by the hour, giving owners plenty of ways to reduce how they could pay their miner (including by lying about the quality or rigging the scales).

The average wage of coal miners in the 1880s was somewhere between 3s (s = shillings) and 5s per day, with around 4s being closer to the normal, and 5 only if you were lucky. 4 shillings was about $1.20. Generally though wages varied greatly in different districts. After spending on equipment, food, and rent, they could be left with maybe no more than 1s.

Going back to the trailer, it says “Blasting Agent – Mercury (II) Fulminate”. This is an explosive compound made from mercury, nitric acid, and ethanol. It was commonly used as a primary explosive in percussion caps and detonators during the 19th century. When struck or subjected to a shock, it would rapidly decompose and produce a violent explosion. Its role was to initiate the ignition or detonation of the main explosive charge, such as dynamite.

This is the stuff that we see him pouring into the dynamite.

Continuing, we see Norton smiling at a coin, but then his wrist is crushed by the other miners, who steal it from him, taunting him to try to take it back.

Norton actually smiling at the coin helps show Norton’s desire to get out of poverty, an idea he emphasizes later when he describes poverty as a “curse”.

But as we see in the Famitsu Article, people didn’t understand why he tried so hard. It “intimidated” them. Then in Norton’s 2nd letter as well as in this trailer, we see that he was ridiculed by his coworkers. They didn’t think it was possible for him to achieve such a goal. This is reflected with how essentially, at that time “Englishmen recognized if he is in a certain social grade, he is likely to remain there. He’ll never reach a higher class, and didn’t rebel”. Each class “cheerfully” accepted “the lot which providence has assigned” to them.

Norton was different though. He says in the trailer “I once thought the same” after it talks about sons of miners became miners themselves.

He may have initially accepted the same thing everyone else did, but things likely changed over time, the longer he was forced to live this sort of life.

There’s also a good chance part of his change was from working with people like Benny. He learns from them to improve himself (and hopefully improve his chance at earning more), but he also sees how these old miners are, which emphasizes in his brain he doesn’t want to end up like them. He doesn’t want to end up in hospice or stuck in poverty his whole life like they did, just waiting for the day they die.

Norton worked hard, harder and longer than everyone else, in the hopes eventually this would be enough to improve his life, to make it even slightly close to what most would consider a comfortable life, even if it meant only the basics. But it wasn’t enough. The mine owners were greedy. The other miners were all in it only for themselves. His wages were miniscule, and his daily and weekly expenses pretty great. Especially with how back in that time period, mine owners had ways where they attempted to keep their employees indebted to them, to force them to keep working for them, as well as improve their own personal profits as much as possible.

Norton was surrounded by these sorts of people forced to live in such a cruel environment, watching the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. This is reflected in his 2nd letter where he says “This is simply unfair. The poor find it difficult to lead a comfortable life, while all the rich need to do is wave their banknotes around”. He describes all the pain he’s gone through just at the chance to “climb up” out of poverty before describing “how much effort I put into this” as “ridiculous”.

His hard work is exemplified by his 3rd deduction, which describes how he’s done so well his employers always attempt (but fail) to keep him for longer. He works to learn, to improve his skills, and better himself at the chance at earning more and thus potentially work his way out of poverty faster.

We can also see it during the trailer, with him surrounded by all these books and other things.

This quality of his, where he likes to teach himself, to learn, and to improve himself has been implied at other points by Netease, such as by several of his skins or even from part of other collabs, like B.Duck, which described Norton as “full of curiosity” and “likes learning”. It also described him with a “desire to act at MAX” or “highest level of execution”. This means he’s the type of person to put all his effort into whatever he does.

It just wasn’t enough.

We even see the sort of suffering this life has forced him to endure, as in the trailer it shows him coughing due to the damage his lungs have suffered due to his life as a miner.

Hard work wasn’t enough. This is why he eventually turned to the list of 13 mines he learned from Benny, seeking to instead attempt to escape poverty by finding gold.

As explained by @metalIurgy and @Deskdeas, each of the names on this list are European mines or people.

(Also, there seems to be 15 names total on the list, rather than 13)

Von Donnersmarck: House of Donnersmarck, prominent aristocratic family that originated in the region of Silesia. Owned mines.

Georg Wilhelm: Russian military officer and engineer who specialized in mining

Prince Konstantin: prince of Russia, killed in a mining shaft

Ștefan Procopiu: physicist who researched electricity and magnetism

Friedrich Alfred Krupp: German industrialist, developed Krupp steel manufacturer and arms manufacturing company

Saarbergwerke: mining company that operated in the Saarland region of Germany

Romeria: religious pilgrimage (Spain or spanish speaking countries?)

Petro-pavlivska (''Петро-павлівська''): black coal mine located in the Eastern part of Ukraine

Nova Baňa: silver and gold mining site in central Slovakia.

Swansea Copper: Welsh copper mines

Eramet: French multinational mining and metallurgical company

Ivan Polzunov: Russian engineer known for his contributions to steam engine technology

Wowdcole: ?

(Sorry, I can't read the 15th name crossed out in the top left corner of the list)

We know from Norton’s 5th deduction that he tried and failed to find anything at any of the other 12 mines, leaving him with only Golden Cave left.

Back to the trailer, we see him with a map.

The left side looks like it should be a map of Lakeside and the surrounding area, with Golden Cave being the X at the base of the mountains. Count Barriere is the owner of this land, and also the owner of Golden Cave. The right side should be the representation of a map of the mine itself.

Considering how earlier Norton’s coworkers stole Norton’s coin, it’s possible they essentially tried to do the same thing here. Saw him looking at the map, then took it for themselves. Like how Norton’s 8th deduction includes “you need more helpers”, they may have forced him to take them along, and why they explore it on their own without Norton. Especially with the looks on their faces in that scene not showing they had any good intentions.

(A lot of what I’ll say next is said very well by @Yaboku_samaa)

Norton seems to have set all this up in advance, before they came through the mine.

Next we see Norton’s inner conflict. A conflict between morals and vengeance represented by survivor Norton vs Hunter Norton. His Hunter side manages to win out by telling Norton that this is what they deserve, it’s revenge for all the pain and ridicule he’s been put through, all in silence, all without fighting back. He’s forced to keep a façade. To keep his true feelings hidden if he doesn’t want a penalty or reduction in wages. He’s tired of having to live such a hard life of constant suffering and humiliation and hopelessness, and thus why he had hit his limit and the side represented by his Hunter version won out.

(I’m not going to push the idea too much, but it’s possible Norton may have bipolar disorder. That or DID, especially with how he literally talks to himself in his 2nd letter. Especially as both can form in children or young adults who experience long-term physical or emotional distress or abuse. Causes can include childhood trauma (like neglect, abuse, trauma, losing someone like a parent), stressful life events, genetics, etc…)

This decision is shown during the trailer when Norton says “There are ways to make a change”.

Norton’s 2nd letter does an accurate job of summarizing everything:

“Over the last 20 years, I lived like a rat in the gutter. I spent days under the ground in the dark just so I could earn a minimal living. Scars from the blasts crawled all over my face like maggots. The constant scorn and ridicule... I endured it every time just so I'd get a chance to climb up the ladder. It's ridiculous how much effort I put into this—anyway, I've finally managed to crawl out from the rat hole. I no longer have to pick and pull on the disgusting ash. Those who did nothing but laugh at me deserve to stay underground and be stepped on like maggots forever.”

And the trailer visually showing Norton’s inner conflict matches up very well with how quite clearly Norton in his 2nd letter is arguing with himself. The side represented by Hunter Norton is likely the version talking right now, trying to convince him (the side represented by Survivor Norton) to kill the female, “think about how arrogant she is” and all the money he’d get. The fact he is trying to convince himself shows that Norton doesn’t want to do it, and how he isn’t willing to do anything for money. His hatred for his coworkers for their treatment of him for so long was enough for the side represented by Hunter Norton to convince him to trigger the explosion on them, but that motivation doesn’t exist here. Right now, his less moral side is trying to motivative him with money and thinking about others as “arrogant” and essentially mean, as well as the doubt that she could do something to him.

But that may not be enough to convince him next time to actually do it if he’s given a chance. At Golden Cave, that was his last chance to try to find gold. He’d gone through 12 other mines (and 20 years of pain on top of that) with nothing to show for it. Norton may be very stubborn and determined, but even he was growing so very desperate, which is shown well by Norton’s 5th deduction as well as by the trailer itself. So it makes sense that Norton was mentally not in the right place and vulnerable to the sort of temptation we see him going through in the trailer.

Norton is alone. No family. No money. Suffering from lung problems. Has never been shown kindness and forced to grow up in a very cruel environment. The only thing keeping him moving forward and losing all hope is by focusing on his goal of getting out of poverty and achieving some form of a comfortable life with at least the basic necessities. This is shown very well by Norton’s 4th birthday emote “Savings”, where Norton takes out a single gold coin and thinks about simple worn clothes and a loaf of bread, while the description reads “Endure it, Norton. You’re almost there”.

For years he attempted to push on, but little by little, his coworkers, his employers, his environment, it all chipped away at him until he felt he had no other choice. I believe the trailer does a good job of emphasizing how his main motivation wasn’t greed but desperation, hopelessness, and the pain he was subjected to by his coworkers and everyone. It’s life or death, and this mine is his last chance, and his deep misery that pushes him over the edge, so it’s no wonder he doesn’t care about anyone anymore. He’s always been alone, always had to be the one to look out for himself. No one else could be trusted. They would only take advantage of him or even potentially steal what little he had. Yet even still he hesitated to pull the trigger, which I think says a lot about Norton.

Despite the decision being made, he doesn’t run after he sets off the explosion. He accepts what happens. There’s no way he didn’t know what was going to happen, not with how long he’s worked as a miner, and how much he’s learned in his own time. It could be the side represented by his survivor version sees the scar as punishment for his deeds. It could be he knew if he wanted to get his revenge he had to deal with the potential scars.

But he was here not just for revenge, but for the chance at finding gold. Hunter Norton’s character backstory says the accident brought Norton “Golden Luck” or “a gold rush of fortune”, so it sounds like he did find something.

We do know he at least found the meteorite, which is what he made his magnet from, so this could be what is referred to in Hunter Norton’s backstory.

Along with the above, we could connect whatever his “golden luck” was with Memory’s comment during Time of Reunion, where she says “they seemed to be looking for something other than ore”.

This is repeated during AoM with a newspaper clipping about rumors being false of precious metal ore in the mine.

Considering Golden Cave’s rumor is “despite not a single piece of gold was ever found, Count Barriere still got what he wanted with this land”, these statements should be talking about the same thing.

It’s possible Barriere was after the meteorite, especially as the only things we know that came out of that mine after it collapsed were Norton and the chunks of the meteorite he carried.

There are potential parallels from Lily’s essence, which connects to Golden Cave, and her essence story says “The mine is filled with special phosphorescent ores, which brought wealth to their ancestors but also cursed them with phosphorescent illness”. Considering in the famitsu article it says the magnet aka the meteorite may have been affecting his brain, it’s possible the “phosphorescent ores” is meant to parallel the meteorite.

If that is what Barriere is after, maybe there’s a chance he reached out to Norton afterwards, and he could’ve been the one to offer Norton all that money in exchange for killing some female. Especially when we know Count Barriere has a lot of money based on Lily’s backstory, as he even offered her enough to survive for 2 years and even more via making her the owner of the IOU likely belonging to Orpheus for him buying Oletus Manor.

Anyways, we also know from Norton’s 3rd letter that he “dug his way out through a mountain creek a few dozen meters away from the mine” with only “minor burns”. We also know from the Famitsu Article that people didn’t talk to him, they said a bare minimum then kept a “wide berth”, and considering the very visible scar on his face, it is possible this was the reason they avoided him (they were frightened of him. Like we see at the end of the trailer, it is possible people saw him as a “monster”, especially back then when these sorts of things weren’t treated or seen as kindly as today).

#idv #identity v #norton campbell #prospector #Fool's Gold #fools gold #Hunter Norton #idv norton #identity v norton #idv prospector #identity v prospector #idv fool's gold #identity v fool's gold #idv fools gold #identity v fools gold #idv hunter norton #identity v hunter norton #sirenjose analyses and theories

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