#never live blogged a movie before but I have THOUGHTS

[grayscaleskies]

Alright Christmas Carol is one of my favorite holiday movies and I'm watching the new animated Scrooge a Christmas Carol so I'm gonna talk about my thoughts to the void

-Hate the opening number/scene??? Why is Fred so important in this version this song is extremely pointless and feels so out of place also why tf are there rainbow snowflake lights I am confusion

-EY CANE USER SCROOGE and from what I can tell he uses it correctly so far!! Diversity win

-Dog is cute but I wish she wasn't there she adds absolutely nothing to the story YES I AM A STICKLER FOR ACCURACY

-I hate the dialogue of this film so far like why does Scrooge have moments of sincerity and then random bouts of cartoon villainy MUPPETS IS BETTER THERE I SAID IT

-Can we as a society stop drawing Scrooge with a hooked nose PLEASE

-Also to be clear I do have gripes with the source material (mainly with its blatant antisemitism and insistence that anyone who doesn't love Christmas is a Bad Person) and my analysis of it based on accuracy is not meant to condone that in any way, I love analyzing and ranting about media okay thanks void

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[romance-incubomp3]

aghhhh:(

[the-raindeer-king]

Imagine Simon's mom doesn't die with Tommy and Beth. Maybe she was out of town, or at a friend's house, and Roba's men were sloppy and missed her. Anyway, so it's just Simon and her now, and because he blames himself for what happened, he's pulled away from her.

He pays her rent, even if he wanted her to live in a nicer apartment complex. And he visits during her birthday and Mother's Day, and sometimes just randomly stops by. But he never stays very long, and he doesn't tell her a lot about his new life. It's a very one sided relationship, but she tries to make the best of it.

And then you move in next door, during one of Simon's deployments. You feel bad for the sweet lady that lives next to you. She never seems to have much company, and you take it upon yourself to befriend her, spending more time in her apartment than your own.

You learn about her ex husband, her sons, the tragedy, and most importantly, you learn about Simon. And you hate him. Mrs. Riley (she insists you call her Sarah) is such a lovely woman, and it's clear how much she cares about her living son, how hard she's trying to keep their relationship alive.

It's the second Mother's Day after you move in when you finally meet Simon. Your relationship with your own mother is complicated, so you've opted to spend the day with Mrs. Riley. You'd gotten her a small present, and had planned to spend the day drinking wine and watching historical romance movies.

You're thoroughly shocked when you knock on her door, and a man answers. Six feet, built like a brick house, but under his scowl, you recognize Sarah's eyes.

“You must be Simon.”

His scowl deepens, but before he can say anything, Mama Riley is pushing past him, pulling you into her apartment to fuss over you.

She apologizes for not telling you sooner, but your plans will have to be rescheduled. Simon's back early, and she can't waste a precious second.

You're understanding. You've listened to her worried rants, given her space to cry over how things have turned out. You know she loves spending time with her son, even if the visits are short and he doesn't talk much.

Simon doesn't miss the way you glare at him. There's a fury in your eyes, even as you cheerily wish his mother a happy mother's day. For a moment, he wonders if you're a spy. But that thought is quickly diminished, when you verbally eviscerate him at the door.

You're quiet, not wanting to upset his mom, but your anger is clear. It may not be your business, but Mama Riley is your friend, and you adore the older woman. And you cannot stand by while he treats her like this. She loves her son so much, and he needs to step up and try harder.

As you're chewing him out, Simon's already head over heels, planning your wedding as the seconds tick by.

(A/N: You can read this as a stand alone piece, but I did write 3 more drabbles (four in total!) for this! They're all on my blog under the tag mama riley au. Thank you for reading!)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[jnece-maharlika]

Pt2Danny Accidentally becomes the Ghost king, the president and the biggest threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 link:

Part 2 Danny becomes the president.

Amity Parkers are the most adaptable people in the world. They're barely fazed by anything.

If you throw them into a situation that they are very unfamiliar with, it'll only take them five minutes to adjust before they start planning on how to live with this situation.

The Amity Parker mindset is: "Oh, I guess this is happening now."

So when the ghosts start attacking? The Amity Parkers immediately look for ways to avoid and protect themselves from the ghosts, not even questioning why ghosts are real. The only thing they think about is, "Damn, there's a ghost. I hope it doesn't attack the theater; I really want to see that movie."

When Phantom had his debut as a hero? The Amity Parkers started looking for ways to help, ways to keep out of his way (some to try and keep him away). The thought running through their minds was, "So this one is trying to protect us? Guess we have a hero now."

Amity Parkers don't spend their time getting mad at the sudden change of routine, the sudden loss of normalcy, or the broken buildings. Amity Parkers don't ask why and how ghosts are real, don't question if all ghosts are evil or if there are some good ghosts, and don't even think of how to get rid of them completely (they're part of the community now). They only look for ways to keep themselves from getting overshadowed. They definitely don't spend time thinking if the ghosts could bring more danger in the future or looking for more information for possible contingency plans. They aren't Batman; they believe that if the present is good, then the future will be better.

Point is, Amity Parkers are resilient and adaptable. They will take everything in stride and focus on the present. So what if some ghosts attack and block the street? They need to get to work, so they'll just drive around it.

After the whole Pariah Dark thing, they become liminal, gaining some form of super strength and glowing eyes (symptoms vary based on how strong the radiation on a person is). A normal human would think, "OH MY GOD, I'M DYING!" The Amity Parkers went, "Oh, cool, this is cool, but now I'm having a problem with opening doors without breaking the knob. Maybe the Fentons could do something about it, make stronger knobs or something."

When some babies started gaining some inhuman features? Some start floating? (Sharper ears, fangs. Babies adapt to things faster, so they get more ecto radiation.) The Amity parents went, "Is there a way to keep my child on the ground without leashing them like a dog?" Then proceeded to make a help blog for other Amity parents dealing with the same things.

So when the ghosts start becoming more of the community rather than enemies, the Amity Parkers just shrugged and asked for a book of ghost customs so they don't accidentally offend them.

When the Fentons started making ghost and human-safe items, no one even questioned why Danny had so much money and was funding his parents' research.

When Danny's name was almost (if not) in everything and he seemed to own most of the town, no one questioned it.

But everything changed when the GIW came again. Even the Amity Parkers weren't expecting this change.

The GIW waltzed in, claiming the liminal town was theirs to play with and started attacking everyone, including the Amity Parkers. The Amity Parkers went full defense mode, protecting the ghosts that were now their friends/neighbors/lovers, making sure that nothing would harm them.

They learned that it was Vlad who called on the GIW. He was pissed and petty that the crown was taken from him and decided to report his liminal town, pretending to be a "concerned mayor" who "wants his people to be healed."

The Amity Parkers were mad... they were furious.

And in the moment they saw Phantom fall to the ground, unconscious, and watched him de-transform from the hero King Phantom to the kid that owns and funds the most helpful companies in town, something changed. Something in the Amity Parkers changed.

Keep in mind that Amity Parkers don't change; they remain the same as they adapt to whatever change the world throws at them.

NEVER ONCE HAD THE AMITY PARKERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CHANGE THEMSELVES.

The first thing they changed? Their mentality. NEVER AGAIN WERE THEY GOING TO LET OUTSIDE FACTORS CHANGE THEIR LIVES. THIS IS THEIR TOWN AND IT WILL STAY THAT WAY.

God help the GIW for being their first victims.

An angry town of liminals, ghosts, and borderline gods, who have access to the Fentons' very destructive and effective technology.

Vs.

The regular GIW humans with anti-ghost tech they stole from the Fentons and nothing against liminals.

The battle was a swift victory, destroying not only the GIW in town but also all of its branches (and Vlad) with almost no traces of them even existing in the first place.

The change didn't stop there, however.

The Amity Parkers banded together with Team Phantom and the Fentons (minus Danny, as he is healing and shouldn't know about their plans; the hero should rest) and took out some of that ghost king money that Danny's trying to get rid of. They crashed the UN meeting while kidnapping the president of America.

The Amity Parkers have decided that Amity Park is theirs; it belongs to the people and its heroes. But how is it supposed to be truly theirs if they have to follow the rules of the country that funded the GIW?

A couple of death threats, bribing, more death threats and more money bribing to make sure the anti ecto acts are gone and the League of Bitches (Phantom called the JL that, and the Amity Parkers decided it was true) doesn't know about it, and a couple of hours in the nightmare realm (courtesy of Fright Knight, who happily participated when he found out what happened), and Amity Park was now its own independent country.

They decided that Tucker was to be a main part of security, letting him put up another firewall like the GIW did to make sure no one knows about their country. They don't want the League of Bitches or any outsider in the King's Haunt. It's theirs now; it belongs to the Ghost King of Amity Park, outsiders be gone.

And when it came to deciding who would be leader? There was no hesitation as they wrote down:

Daniel "Danny Phantom" Fenton, King of the Infinite Realms, King and President of Amity Park.

___________________

A couple of years later, Batman, finding hints of a "Lazarus pit" in Illinois, send Flash to look around for anything suspicious. Flash, hyper focused on following his gps, hits a wall, literally faceplants into it.He double checks his map, the wall wasn't supposed to be there. He goes around it, there no way in, no way out. He goes back to batman and reports.

Pt3 soon.

Tags as requested

@nana-mizu-shiki

@talia-scar123

[y3sterdaysproblem]

the final girl - matt/chris sturniolo

warnings: heavy on the MDNI, stalking, chasing, oral, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, knife play, degradation/praise, talks of death, blood

spoilers for the scream movies if you’ve never seen them

a/n: hi! welcome to my blog, I hope you stay a while. I have a big passion for writing so i’m excited to start writing for this fandom.

wc: 6.7k

It was late.

Way too late for any woman to be walking around by herself, past dark alleyways and businesses that had long since closed for the night, however you just needed to clear your head, go for a quick little walk to get your mind off some things, and get a few extra steps in after a particularly lazy day at home binge watching your favorite show.

It wasn’t often that you walked around late at night, due to the potential dangers of it, but you also weren’t particularly afraid of it either, being comfortable with the area you lived and your level of self defense (although most of it was blind confidence, you’d never taken a self defense class in your life), so tonight felt no different than the other times that you had gone on a late night walk, except for maybe the fact that it had started to get slightly chillier out, prompting you to throw on a hoodie that came past the hem of your pajama shorts that had been on since the night before.

Typically you would have airpods in while you walked, but tonight you felt more like enjoying the sounds of night life chattering in the distance as the background noise for your walk, and that’s exactly what you heard as you kept a steady pace through the slightly busier side of town. Bars, restaurants, liquor stores, all littered up and down the streets, some with a few customers, and some completely blacked out. The only part that sent a small shiver down your spine every time you walked past one, was the dark, dimly lit or completely pitch black alleyways that seemingly dragged on for miles.

It wasn’t necessarily a fear, but the thought of being dragged into an alleyway and stabbed or brutally beaten had always been a nagging thought at the back of your mind on these walks. Maybe you had died in an alleyway in a past life. Regardless, you push through the small voice in your head that makes you step a little quicker every time you pass by.

It’s close to 30 minutes into your walk, zoned in as ever, when you feel a buzz in your back pocket, and the feeling rips you out of the deep thought you were having, using your hands to push up your hoodie to reach the butt pocket in your shorts, grabbing your phone and seeing an unknown caller on the screen. You furrow your brow and send it to voicemail, telling yourself if it was important, they’d leave a message, your thought process for any unknown caller.

However, this seemed a little different than a typical unknown number calling, as instead of seeing the voicemail start to pour in, you just see the call trying to come through another time, and again, you hit the red button on your screen, declining the call.

“Can’t be that important,” you mutter under your breath, about to put your phone back into your pocket, when it starts to buzz for a third time, making your heart start to pick up pace slightly. Who would be trying to reach you at such an ungodly hour? Why were they trying so desperately to reach you?

Your finger hovered over the decline button again, but something in you told you to accept the call. What if it was an emergency? What if a family member was in the hospital and they were trying to reach you? What if a friend was in jail and needed you to bail them out? Too many thoughts bounced around inside your head, but eventually you chalked it up to your anxiety getting the best of you, and you pressed down, declining the call again.

You stared down at your phone, stopping completely in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, waiting for another phone call to ring through your phone, but after waiting for a solid minute with no attempts at a call, you assume the caller is done bothering, and put your phone back in your pocket, quickening your pace in an attempt to get home a little quicker than usual.

It’s no more than two minutes later that your phone starts to buzz in your pocket again, and this time, it makes you completely freeze in your tracks. Again? you think to yourself, slowly reaching back and grabbing your phone once more, looking at the same number on the screen trying to reach you. Surely it has to be important if somebody is trying this hard, so with a bit of reluctance and a faster heartbeat than you’d like to admit, you swipe your phone across the screen and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello?” You speak, voice quieter than normal.

“Hi,” the voice on the other end drawls out in a slightly robotic, yet still human voice.

“Who am I speaking with?” You retort.

“I could ask the same question,” the voice replies.

This is weird, you think to yourself.

“You called me, so who is this?” Your voice raises slightly as you get annoyed with the situation. First this person has the nerve to call in the middle of the night, and now they won’t even disclose who they are.

“Woah, you’re feisty. I like that. You got a boyfriend?”

You pause. “Do I- what?!” The exasperation is clear in your voice, a slight panic filling your chest.

“You heard me. You got a boyfriend?” He repeats, a smirk evident in the way he spoke.

You remain silent on the line for a moment, looking around to see if anybody was nearby to overhear this conversation, but there was nobody in your line of sight no matter which direction you looked. “Yes,” fell from your lips before you could stop yourself. “I have a boyfriend.”

The man, or person rather, you weren’t too sure, made a pouting sound on the other end of the call, clearly dejected by your answer. “What a shame,” he starts. “I was hoping I could have you all to myself.”

The words that left his mouth is what really set off your panic, your heart racing in your chest as you started to move again, wanting more than ever to just get home and crawl into bed where you knew you were safe, because right now you felt anything but safe, too exposed in the nighttime air.

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number, have a good night,” you tell them, pulling your phone away from your ear to finally hang up and rid yourself of this interaction, but just as you’re about to end the call, you hear shouting coming from it, the person still yelling at you despite your efforts to end the call. Slowly, you pull it back to your ear, hoping he doesn’t know you’re still listening, but somehow, he knows, chuckling into the speaker.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he taunts. “You wanna play a game?”

Fuck, you think. There’s no way this was who you thought it was, right? Those were just movies, and killers like that don’t exist in the real world. Besides, who would be dumb enough to be a copycat killer with such a popular character? It would be stupid to think that you could possibly get away with trying to be Ghos-

“Hello?! Did you not hear me, slut? I said… do you want to play a game?” The voice bellows, getting more aggressive now.

“W-what kind of game?” You stutter out, your eyes frantically looking for a soul to share this terrifying moment with. But still, there was nobody around, nobody to be a witness. The sinking feeling that you might die, completely alone in the middle of the night, and probably in a stupid fucking alleyway floods your body, understanding how dire this situation is about to get.

“Do you like scary movies?”

The question was way too fitting for the breezy October air, but nowhere near cool enough to cause the goosebumps that arose on your skin.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Good. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks, curiosity evident in his tone.

You decide to push your luck, and see how far this can go, see who’s really behind the voice on the other end. “You ever heard of the Stab movies?” You ask.

He laughs. He knows you know now. But he doesn’t seem to mind that his cover is blown. “Wow, that’s a creative answer. I’ve heard of them,” he says.

You know that the Stab movies were just fictional, based on the stories of those in the Scream movies, but in reality, Scream was your favorite scary movie. It wasn’t too gory or scary, just the perfect amount of thriller to keep you on the edge of your seat, and truthfully, you always kind of had a thing for Ghostface, which is exactly why you’re still here on the phone, entertaining whoever is on the other end.

“Well, that’s my favorite movie. Are we done playing games now?” You’re more than ready to be back home now, but a part of you isn’t ready for this call to be over just yet. You wanna know if he’s gonna want to do trivia, just like the real Ghostface.

“The game hasn’t even started,” he begins. “Play with me, will you?” His voice is soft, almost begging. You would never admit it out loud, but it made you swallow a little harder than usual, and the feeling of your quickening heartbeat fell between your legs. Curse this Ghostface kink.

“O-okay,” you agree. “Let’s play.”

“Great. How about a warm up question? Who’s the killer in the original Scream movie?” He shoots out the first question like he’s reading it off of a script.

“Easy! It’s Billy Loomis, and don’t think I’ll fall for your trick question, Stu Macher is the other killer,” you proudly say, perhaps a little too loudly, but there was still nobody around to hear you boasting about your favorite movie killers.

He seems almost proud when he answers, like you’ve impressed him more than he’d like to admit. “Good job. Now we’ll play for real.”

“What?!” You exclaim. “I got that one right, that counts.”

“No, it was a warm up.” He’s determined to not count this question as a legitimate turn. “If you get this one right, you get to walk away.”

You’re overly confident in your knowledge of the Scream movies, so even though you’re not really sure what is going on at the moment, you’re almost positive you’ll get this question right and win whatever this game was, ending the conversation and letting you finally go home in peace. “And if I lose?” You dare to ask.

His reply is quick though. “If you lose, I get to wear your insides as a fucking necklace.”

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears at the words, worry finally filling your head as you realize this was a lot more serious than you had initially thought. There was no way this guy was serious, but standing alone in the middle of the street at almost 2am, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was completely serious, and if a trivia question was the way your life would end.

“I don’t think I want to play this game anymore,” tears filled your eyes as you spoke, voice raising in pitch as your throat started to get tight. “Please just let me go home.”

He doesn’t respond to this with words, only a small chuckle before he speaks again. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“My name?” You choke out. “Why do you want to know?”

He pauses.

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

It’s in this moment that you look to your right, realizing you’re stopped at the end of an alleyway, right at the driveway, and staring down the dark hall of the alley, you see a dark figure standing in the middle of it, phone held up to their ear, Ghostface mask the only thing visible in the one working light that shines down on their face.

“Holy fuck,” you panic, immediately turning the other way and running down the alley across the street, opposite the one the figure stood in. “Help!” You cry out, phone call long forgotten as you pump your arms to try and run quicker. It seems to be to no avail as you hear loud footsteps quickly approaching behind you, and you start to feel all hope draining from your body as the killer got closer.

It’s not long before you’re getting slammed up a brick wall, knocking the breath out of you as you come face to face with your favorite movie killer, however this wasn’t a movie, this was real life, and you were truly and utterly fucked.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg once you get your breath back, trying to shove them away, but your efforts failed. One arm was held across your chest, and the other was holding a large blade up to your throat. “I promise, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt me.”

He laughs in your face, and the classic Ghostface voice is still there despite the phone call being over. The voice changer must be built into the fucking mask, and you couldn’t help but think how hot this would’ve been in any other situation. Except… part of you was still slightly turned on, even though your life was in jeopardy. “I’m going to do a lot more than hurt you,” he threatens. “Now tell me. How does Amber die in Scream 5?”

God, he’s still quizzing you? Even with a knife to your throat? The good thing is, you’ve seen these movies so many times, you know you can pull this without even thinking.

“She… she lights herself on fire, on a stove.” You choke out, looking up into the eyes of the mask. You almost let a smirk take over your face, but then you feel the blade press harder, and it makes your eyes widen.

“Wrong,” he taunts, leaning his face closer to yours. “She survives the fire and gets shot in the head.”

No, you think. No, there’s no way I’m wrong. Until you realize, he’s right. You have to shoot them in the head, or they come back. Fuck.

“Wait! Ask me another question, I can get it right I swear!” You’re squirming against his grip now, tears evidently streaming down your face. You know what happens in this part of the movie. The brutal stabbing, the guts hanging out, the killer getting away with it. It was over, and you were no doubt a dead man walking.

“Too late! You’re wrong!” He yells, moving his arm that lay across your chest and putting his hand on your shoulder, applying pressure to push you towards the ground, and the shove had forced you to fall on your knees, no doubt ripping them up with the uneven ground you now rested on. Your eyes looked up towards the masked figure, eyebrows contorted in confusion. This was not how the movies went at all, but a part of you was getting slightly warmer at the thought of what was about to happen, thighs clenching together around nothing.

“I-I’m sorry, I panicked and said the wrong answer,” you say in a quiet voice, still staring up at him through your lashes. From the position you were now in, you assumed you and the killer were on the same page, and you reached out to rest your hands on his thighs, separated by the cloak he wore and the jeans that lay atop his skin. “Please let me make it up to you.”

The tone shifts. No longer were you scared for your life, but you were excited for what was about to ensue. Sure, maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve ever done, and maybe it’ll be the last thing you ever do, but you wanted to go out with a bang, and this was definitely a bang.

As he fails to respond, you take that as your approval and start to move his cloak up, pulling it over your head and completely covering yourself with it so you, too, were underneath it, almost completely hidden from view apart from your bare knees touching the ground. The only thing separating you now was the normal clothes that lay underneath, and you reach your hands up to the button of his jeans, skillfully yet slowly popping it open, pulling the zipper down after it. Keeping the pants completely pulled up, just slightly undone, you move your hand downwards and palm over the hardness under the hard fabric, realizing that he was having just as much fun as you were. Besides, who could turn down a free blowjob from a pretty girl in a dark alleyway?

Deciding you were ready to take this on, you push your hands in the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them down to expose the hard member that impatiently awaited, hearing the masked killer suck in a hissed breath, still contorted by the voice changer. God, this was a fucking dream come true and you wanted to relish in every second of it that you could.

He was bigger than you expected, but just like your movie trivia confidence, you were confident you could take him, in more ways than one, and you lean forward to gently start taking the tip into your mouth, creating a suction around it that made him have to lean a hand on the alley wall to keep his balance and not fall to his knees alongside you. Once you’re comfortable with the feeling, you reach a hand up to cover what your mouth can’t reach and start pumping in time with your head movements, tongue flattening out onto the bottom of his dick, twisting your hand slightly as you moan when the tip hits the back of your throat, causing him to let out a choked moan.

“You should be fucking bleeding out in a dumpster right now, you stupid bitch,” he mumbles, but it’s in vain. You’ve got him right where you need him, and he would never admit it, but he’s living for it. The euphoria filling his veins as he focuses on the way your tongue moves on him is taking over his senses, eyes closed and head thrown back.

All you do is moan in response as you continue your pace, feeling your own arousal creeping up inside your pajama shorts, wishing you could reach down and relieve some of the pressure, but you decide to not push your luck too much. You don’t know what he would let you get away with and what he wouldn’t.

You feel him start to lose control slightly, using his hand braced on the wall as leverage as he starts to move his hips forward, fucking your mouth lightly at first, but quickly picking up pace as he realizes that you can take a lot more than you’re letting on, not stopping even when your hands fly up to his hips and you gag around his cock abusing your throat, using it as a fuck toy. However, your hands don’t push him away, just grasp on so you have something to ground yourself in the moment.

Suddenly, the rough pace stops, and he pulls the cloak from over you and looks down and your fucked out face, day old mascara running down your cheeks, drool dripping down your chin as your mouth hangs open while you try to catch your breath. It’s a beautiful sight to him, and he can’t get enough. He pushes your head against the brick wall, a big more aggressive than needed, but not hard enough to hurt you, and uses his other hand to slap his cock against your cheek lightly before letting out a breathless laugh.

“Stand up, slut. Wanna see how wet you are for me,” he demands, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling you up, not giving you time to focus on the ache in your knees from the position you were in. But you eagerly got up anyway, returning to your face to face positioning. Swallowing thickly, you finally catch your breath as you stare back into the eyes of the mask, but it’s dark in this alley that you can’t see the eyes behind it.

“I’m so wet, please touch me. It hurts. I need you to touch me,” you beg, his hand still tangled in your hair while the other one is still wrapped around the handle of a blade. You knew the begging was risky, not knowing what his plans were with you, but you decided to try it anyway, not giving yourself much time to talk yourself out of it.

He doesn’t reply just yet, only takes his wielded weapon and slowly moves it under your hoodie, sliding the blade down your stomach, the cold, pointed tip pressed hard enough to cause goosebumps to prickle your skin, but not enough to break skin. Not yet.

He drags it into the waistband of your shorts and panties, knife touching your soaked pussy momentarily before he shoves it down and slices a hole right through both layers of your clothes, creating a gash large enough for whatever he had planned for you. The autumn air rushed over your wetness, causing you to try and clench your legs shut, but you quickly relaxed your knees when you realized the knife was still hanging between your thighs, not wanting to risk cutting yourself. It was a vulnerable position, one that should be terrifying, but it just made you more desperate to be touched.

Slowly he pulled the knife from your shorts, reaching back to slide it in the waistband of his jeans so both of his hands were free to touch you, and once his right hand was rid of the blade, he brought it to the hole in your shorts and ran a finger through the smooth slit of your pussy, gliding easily from how wet you already were. It was a fucked situation, but it had you worked up beyond belief. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this wet prior to even being touched before.

“All of this for me?” He breaks the silence for a first time in the while, causing a whimper to leave your mouth as he kept playing with you lightly, not dipping his fingers where you needed them the most right now, barely grazing over the folds covering your clit. The teasing was making you crazy, but you were too scared to tell him what to do, or even to reach out and touch him while you were face to face. You felt completely at his mercy; and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.

“Tell me, pretty girl. How bad do you want me right now?” He asks, leaning his masked face in closer to yours. You swore you almost hear his real voice underneath the voice changer, but brush it aside and focus on the Ghostface voice you know and love, finally opening your mouth to speak, heavy breathing accompanying your words.

“I don’t want you, I need you so bad, please put your fingers inside me, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me, please,” you beg, voice cracking as you realize tears are streaming down your face, but you don’t know if you’re crying because you’re terrified or because you’re just so fucking desperate.

He chuckles as he slides two fingers in between your folds, dragging your wetness to your clit for a moment and rubbing there, finally relieving some of the pressure. Your head falls back against the rough brick wall of the alleyway as you let out a loud moan, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit nearly making your knees give out from that alone. “You sound so good making those noises for me, slut. I can’t wait to have you screaming for me.”

He finally pushes his two fingers back and dips them inside of you with no resistance, your body accepting them more than willingly, and you both let out a moan at the feeling, your back arching away from the wall as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck!” You cry out, unable to stop yourself from reaching out and grabbing his left bicep, needing something to latch on to in the moment. Your left leg comes up and finds purchase on a pipe that ran along the wall, giving him more access to your dripping core. “Your fingers feel so good,” you’re breathless as you speak. “Please don’t stop.”

His fingers start a quick pace inside of you, pumping in and out while also curling them inside, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he pleasured you. He was enjoying this almost as much as you were. “God, you’re so loud. You sound so fucking hot.” He praises you, clearly turned on by the way you’re crying out for him.

He halts for a moment with his fingers deep inside of you, making you pull your head up from the wall and look down at his fingers before you look up at him, confusion clear on your face. “Why’d you st- oh!” You moan out and throw your head back again, hand gripping harder on his bicep as he starts to move his hand back and forth now, palm pressed firmly on your clit as he fingers you rapidly, causing your first orgasm of the night to rip out of you with a scream, body shaking and barely able to stand up straight. Although this orgasm was different. It was harder, more intense, and you realize you’re still cumming as he keeps pumping his fingers inside of you, hot liquid pouring out of your already dripping pussy and draining down your legs, creating a puddle underneath you where you stand.

He pulls his fingers out of you when he’s had enough and drags them over your swollen clit, making your body jerk when he starts rubbing it quickly, overstimulating you and causing a tiny bit more liquid to pour out. You cry and use your left hand to push his away from you, not being able to take anymore.

But he doesn’t care if you had time to collect yourself or not, and he’s pulling his cloak up to unveil his still hard cock, desperately waiting to fuck you senseless until you couldn’t even stand up straight anymore. “I’m not done with you,” he reveals. “You think I’m just going to let you cum one time and walk away? No. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t fuck anybody else without thinking about me and wishing I was there to fucking ruin you all over again.”

You breathed heavily as you looked at him, or rather the mask that hid the man that was absolutely draining you of any energy you had left for the night, a fucked out expression already adorning your face. “I was hoping you weren’t done,” you breathed out, letting a smirk fall on your features briefly.

“Don’t get fucking mouthy,” he growls, grabbing your leg that was perched up on the wall and slinging it around his waist, using his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance, teasing briefly before shoving inside of you, bottoming out on the first thrust. You screeched at the feeling, using both hands now on each bicep to grip onto him for some sort of leverage, needing to ground yourself somewhere.

“Oh my fucking god!” You cry out, tears filling your eyes, a mixture of the pleasure and the stretch. You weren’t always sex crier, but sometimes when it felt particularly overwhelming, you couldn’t help a few tears from falling.

He doesn’t wait long before he starts thrusting inside of you, low grunts leaving his lips and traveling through the mask, turning you on even more. “God, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly. “I can’t believe you’re so turned on by a fucking serial killer. You’re a freak, you know that? I should kill you and leave your body here just like this so everyone knows you died a stupid fucking slut.”

Your jaw was slung open, eyes half lidded as you stared at the mask in front of you, barely able to comprehend the words spilling from his mouth, but the words that stuck in your brain made you even hornier. He was right, you were a freak. This should be anything but sexy, but to you it was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. “You could kill me…” you start, smiling lightly as you speak. “And my last words would be thank you.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin was the only thing to be heard aside from the heavy breathing and moans coming from both of you.

He grunts in response, bringing his left hand that isn’t holding your leg down to your clit, rubbing quickly in time with his thrusts, making you whimper loudly, throwing your head back against the harsh brick wall. “Fuck!” You nearly scream.

The feeling of both was far too much, your second orgasm slamming into you like a truck, your hands reaching down to his hips to push him out of you, your head shooting up to look down at where you gushing again, a second time for the night. Your thighs shook as you struggled to hold yourself up, moans still leaving your lips as your orgasm faded, turning into soft whimpers. “I-I can’t, I’m done.” Your voice is shaky, eyes barely able to stay open as you bring them up to look into the eyes of the mask.

He laughs. Not a chuckle, he full on laughs, throwing his head back in time with the heavenly sound leaving his mouth. “You’re done?” He questions, looking back towards you. You had black tear tracks running down your bright red cheeks, your lips were puffy from biting on them, and he couldn’t tell if it was drool or precum all over your chin; probably both. “I don’t remember you being in charge.”

Keeping your leg wrapped around his waist, he uses his left hand to reach into his back pocket, the one across from the blade still resting comfortably, and dips into it, coming back out with a piece of fabric. You weren’t sure what it was, but when he unfolds it and holds it up to you, you realize it’s a thin, long piece of fabric.

A blindfold.

“Be a good girl for me and close your eyes,” he whispers in your ear, and all you could do was obey. Your eyes fluttered shut, realizing that your trust was fully in this man. He really could do anything he wanted to you now, and you wouldn’t be able to see it coming.

His hands come up and tie the blindfold behind your head, making sure it’s secure enough that you can’t see through the bottom, but not tight enough to hurt, not that not hurting you was particularly on the top of his priority list. “You’re so good for me,” he praises, running his thumb over your cheek, gently flitting over your bottom lip before leaving your face completely. “Can you hold this for me?”

Your hand reaches out instinctively, blinding feeling for whatever he spoke of. Something touched your hand, and you grasped your fingers around it, unable to figure out what it was, until you felt him slowly moving downwards, your leg now resting on his shoulder as he placed his hands on your thighs, squeezing them roughly. His lips dragged over the tops of your thighs, pressing lightly in soft kisses every couple of seconds, getting closer to your core where you needed his mouth the most.

Your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around his mask tangled in his hair, threading through it gently, chest heaving in anticipation. Your hips pressed forward and your back fully leaned against the wall behind you when you felt his lips finally press against your wet folds, kissing softly there before he dragged his tongue from your hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around the swollen nub and sucking roughly, hands pushing your legs farther apart for him.

Your senses were elevated with the lack of vision, tingles erupting over your whole body as he ate you out like his life depended on it. You moaned out, hands gripping his hair harder now. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “That feels so good, baby, please don’t stop.”

He only hums against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine. He eats you out ruthlessly, wet noises filling your ears alongside the pounding from your racing heart. His tongue was working magic on your clit, expertly coaxing you to a third orgasm. You were so close, gently grinding your hips into his mouth, feeling the stubble around his chin creating friction between the two of you. Your thighs were aching from how hard they had been shaking, but nothing mattered except the feeling of where the two of you were connected.

“Keep going, please. I’m so close. You’re gonna make me cum again, baby.” Your voice was hoarse as you spoke.

Wanting nothing more than to rip your orgasm from you, he reached up and slid two fingers back into you while his mouth sucked on your clit, making you cry out. “Shit!” You screech, voice getting pinched as you came for a third time, knees buckling beneath you. He grabbed your hip with his free hand and held you up, while his other hand continued pumping inside you, tongue still working its magic. He swallowed the juices that flowed from your pussy, moaning at the taste.

“You taste so good,” he mutters against your skin, pulling his fingers out and dragging his lips along your thigh, nipping slightly at the goosebump covered skin. “I could eat you for hours.”

You whimper at the desperate sound of his voice, wanting nothing more than to look down and see the face looking back at you, but he stands back up to his feet, and you expect him to grab the mask from your hands and hide his face once again, but once he’s up to his feet and standing straight up, he leans forward and presses his lips to your neck, making your breath catch in your throat. He litters small kisses there, before sinking his teeth into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, sucking a deep red mark into the skin.

You reach up and cup his own neck, tilting your head to give him further access and holding him close to you, breathing heavily as he marked his territory. “Are you done with me yet?” You whisper, afraid to speak too loud and break the moment.

“No,” he whispers back, voice free of any effects, the raw tone of his voice ringing in your ears. “Not yet.”

His demeanor changes and he grabs a fistful of your hair, pressing his lips firmly to yours in an aggressive kiss, tongue sliding past your teeth and meeting your own. But it’s short lived, and he pulls away, snatching the mask from your hand.

Moments later, the blindfold is ripped from your face and you have to blink a few times to adjust your eyes to your surroundings again. You look down and see you’re standing in a puddle of your own release, legs and feet soaked in a mixture of spit and arousal, your shorts damn near torn to shreds. You were a complete mess, and you couldn’t imagine what there was left to ruin.

He reaches back into his pocket, pulling out the blade once more and holding it up to the side of your throat. “On your knees,” he demands, using his other hand to push your shoulders down, keeping the blade firmly against your neck as you fell to your knees again.

The feeling of the blade on your neck made your heart pick up pace, knowing that he could kill you at any moment with just a flick of his wrist, but the thought just made you reel even more. He picks his hand up off of your shoulder and grabs his own cock, rubbing it over your lips lightly, breathing out at the feeling of some sort of relief after pleasuring you for so long. Your eyes stare up at him innocently, sticking your tongue out and flattening it against the bottom of his dick, allowing it to slide into your mouth with ease.

You close your lips around him and moan at the taste of you and him hitting your senses, leaning your head in as far as you can take him, but it’s not enough for him, and he pushes your head back against the wall and starts fucking your throat, moaning loudly as he did so.

He was already so close to cumming, getting so worked up at the feeling of you falling apart on his tongue, that it wasn’t going to take him much to tip over the edge himself. His blade pushed harder into your neck as he started to lose control, and you started whimpering at the feeling, not knowing how far he was going to take it, or if he even noticed he was doing it. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, hips starting to stutter as he fucked your mouth.

Moments later, he pulls his dick out of your mouth and you reach up to grab it, pumping quickly with your tongue hanging out of your mouth, graciously accepting the load that shot out of him and all over your face, even into your hair. You stroked him through his orgasm and swallowed what landed on your tongue, staring up at him as he stared down at you, small moans and almost whimpers passing through his lips.

“Stop,” he chokes out, pushing your hand away from his sensitive tip. You just laugh in response as you drop your hand to your side, slowly standing back to your feet. “Now you know how I feel,” you tell him.

You both take a moment to collect yourself and catch your breath, the heaving in your chests gradually getting calmer.

“Shit,” he mumbles, reaching up and swiping his thumb over your neck, smearing a liquid you didn’t know was there. “I cut you.”

You look down at his thumb, red substance covering it. It should’ve been a little scary, the thought of the knife actually cutting into you and you didn’t even know, but you just grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth, sucking the blood off with a quiet pop.

“I think I’ll live,” you smile at him, reaching up to rip the mask off of his face, revealing your boyfriend’s messy brown hair and bright blue eyes staring back at you. He smiles and leans in to place a kiss on your nose, pulling back quickly.

“You ready to go home? I’m exhausted,” he laughs.

You giggle a bit and take a look at the mess that the both of you are. “You’re exhausted? I don’t think I can walk home, my legs don’t work anymore.” You tell him.

He just chuckles as he buttons his pants, the knife safely tucked away into his back pocket once more. “Good thing I brought the car then. Couldn’t risk anyone seeing you walking home like this. C’mon, it’s at the end of the alley. I’ll carry you.” He leans down and scoops you up, hands covering the hole in your shorts as he walks you to the car.

“Hey,” you speak up as he sets you in the passenger seat of your shared car.

“Hm?” He replies tiredly, looking down at you from where he stood.

“Can we maybe… keep the mask? Do this again some time?” You ask him bashfully, twiddling your fingers as he spoke.

Your boyfriend laughs and leans down to kiss your cheek, then brings his lips close to your ear.

“Of course. After all, the final girl always makes the sequel.”

a/n: ……

who did you imagine?👀

dare you to read it again and imagine the other one 😇

taglist

@nathangirl3

@vamp1re-bite

[kyra-cooneyx]

between us — a.putellas x reader x j.hermoso

summary: your friendship with jenni and alexia blossoms into something more

psa: this is not stealing. i am the original writer, this is a repost from my old blog!

you'd had a crush on alexia from the moment you'd laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.

the barcelona girls took you in as one of their own almost immediately and within a week, you felt like you'd known them forever. of course, your feelings for alexia grew and grew but your friendship with jenni had also blossomed so you decided that it was better to have alexia in your life as a friend then not at all. same with jenni. the last thing you wanted was for either of them to hate you.

since lucy and keira had pre-warned you about how affectionate the spanish could be, you never questioned how close you became with the couple as the months flew by. your teammates never said anything either so you assumed it was normal.

you never thought twice about being invited to dinners, or about the way jenni would pull you into her side during movie nights with the team. and you only lived a few doors down from alexia so her constant presence in your apartment was normal for you.

and that night was no different. music played softly in your bedroom as you held two pairs of earrings up, nudging alexia to get her attention. she quickly pointed to your go to statement earrings and you beamed, swiping your favourite necklace before heading into the en-suite. you figured it was easier to use the bathroom mirror instead of kicking alexia out of the way to use your vanity mirror.

you held your necklace out to jenni once she'd looked up from her phone, pushing herself off the sink and gently taking it from your hand. you turned around, feeling a shiver run down your spine as her fingers ran along the back of your neck, brushing your hair to the side.

jenni fastened the necklace and you thanked her softly, ignoring the way her hands slid down your arms. your eyes flickered towards your room as you put your earrings in, noticing alexia moving around.

she sat down on your bed and you swallowed thickly, eyes trained on her legs that looked even longer in the dress she was wearing.

"isn't she pretty?" jenni's question was a whisper in your ear and you felt yourself nodding.

"yes. ale is very pretty." you hummed in agreement but then froze, realising what you'd said and who you'd said it to.

hearing jenni's soft laughter didn't make you feel any better, neither did the kiss she pressed to your burning cheek. "you should tell her."

"what?" you laughed nervously, stepping forward and out of her grip. "why would i do that?"

she reached out for you again, grabbing your waist and pulling you back. a small huff left your lips as you hit her chest, the blush on your cheeks deepening. "i think ale should know what you think of her."

"i-i think you are very pretty too, jenni," you breathed, assuming jenni's actions were due to a sense of jealousy. "not just ale. you're both very pretty."

your flustered state only worsened when she turned you around, hands tight on your waist.

When her eyes flickered to your lips, you knew you were a goner. "puedo besarte?"

"yes. god, yes."

jenni's lips were on yours in an instant and you threw your arms around her neck, pulling her closer.

guilt hit you like a ton of bricks when you separated. you rubbed at your swollen lips, backing away from the spaniard silently.

you avoided alexia's gaze as you made your way over to your wardrobe, swinging it open to reach for your favourite pair of heels. your stomach twisted. were you really going to act normal and have dinner with alexia after kissing jenni mere feet away from her?

after slipping on the shoes, you turned around, ready to beg for alexia's forgiveness. but she was already stood there. you studied her face. she wasn't angry. maybe she didn't know.

"can i kiss you now?" she asked quietly and your legs felt like jelly as she reached out to rub her thumb along your bottom lip. "or does jenni get you all to herself?"

if it was any other day, you would've asked questions first. but jenni's kiss still had you reeling and you didn't know if you'd ever get the chance to kiss alexia again.

so you leaned in without a second thought.

the guilt you were feeling faded but was soon replaced with confusion. with hesitation, you gently pushed alexia back. her eyebrows furrowed and you placed your hand on her chest to keep her there. doing the same with jenni when she approached.

"what is happening? what is this? a one time thing?" you asked, looking between them quickly.

you regretted asking that last question almost immediately. you were not ready to hear the answer. your heart wouldn't be able to take a one time thing but you didn't know if you'd have the strength to reject them if they'd said yes.

"what do you want it to be?" alexia asked, voice soft and soothing. you swallowed thickly, the anxiety swirling in your stomach.

you had no idea what to say. you wanted them, in every way possible. but if they rejected you, where would that leave you? or the team? you didn't want to be the reason the whole thing fell apart.

"cariño?" alexia's voice pulled you out from your head and you inhaled sharply.

"what-what if i want something more then a one time thing? something serious?" your voice trembled slightly as did your hands.

jenni reached out and gently brushed her fingers along your cheek. "we want that too."

"really?"

"you sound surprised," alexia smiled and you realised that the mood had shifted. "we have been flirting with you for months, did you not notice?"

jenni grinned as your blush deepened. you rolled your eyes and swatted her hand away after she pinched at your cheek.

"you two are mean," you murmured, shouldering passed them both. alexia wrapped her arms around you and pulled you back, nuzzling your neck as you giggled quietly. "are we still going for food?"

"i am not sure hermosa," alexia said, resting her chin on your shoulder. "if jenni and i are so mean, why should we take you?"

you looked over at jenni but she just shrugged. you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. "is this how it's going to be? you two ganging up on me all the time?"

jenni moved to stand in front of you, gently cradling your face and rubbing her thumbs along your jaw. you noticed her glance at alexia.

"vamos, ale. i think we need to show our girl just how nice we can be."

-

a year into the relationship, jenni and alexia were very much used to hearing you rage at your international teammates over the phone. normally, you showed your girlfriends decency and tried to keep the noise down but when your competitiveness flared, it wasn't always doable.

"georgia, stop cheating!" you shouted, glaring at the tv screen in front of you.

"it's mario kart mate! how can i cheat?"

"¡ don't know but you are! oh my—tooney! fuck off!" you clenched your jaw as the cheers sounded over the phone, both georgia and ella managing to beat you, the self-proclaimed mario kart champion of the lioness camp. "you know what? i hate you all."

"what did i do?" leah asked and you could hear the frown in her voice.

"guilty by association." you told her.

"doesn't seem fair."

"not my problem. i demand a rematch!"

"no." georgia and ella said simultaneously.

"uh, yes."

"oh, please don't start this back and forth again." you heard niamh plead.

"not our fault she's a sore loser." georgia muttered and you gasped.

"i am not!" you protested, getting radio silence in response. with a scoff, you shut down the tv and the xbox before snatching your phone. "i am ignoring this phone the next time sarina calls, do you people hear me?"

"loud and clear!" ella chirped. "don't answer it!"

in that moment you decided that, for once, you'd be the bigger person. so you ignored the jeers of your friends and hung up, muttering angrily under your breath as you made your through your apartment.

you headed into the bedroom to see alexia leaning against the headboard, looking over at you with an amused smile. "they beat you?"

"they did not beat me, they cheated." you huffed.

"maybe you are not as good as you think you are." jenni's voice echoed from the en-suite and you turned around.

"if you cannot even pretend to support me, jennifer, what are we even doing here?"

jenni laughed and you huffed again, crawling next to alexia and nestling into her side. when the brunette finally joined you, you kicked at her, letting out a yelp when alexia gently pinched your thigh. "be nice, amor."

"be nice," you mocked her quietly under your breath. after a few seconds, you attempted to crawl out but was immediately pulled back by the blonde. "hey!"

"where are you going?" she asked, tightening her arms as you wriggled in her grip.

"¡ am owed a rematch." you told her, prying at her hands.

"no."

"no? uh, yes," you tried to leave again but alexia quickly flipped you onto your back, laying on top of you so you couldn't move. "aw, ale, get off!"

"no."

"stop saying no to me," you groaned, wrenching your arm free and reaching out for jenni. "help!"

"no!" alexia lifted her head and glared at you, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed. "it will not kill you to have an early night for once."

"it might." you muttered, earning yourself another pinch.

with how genuinely annoyed she sounded, you half expected alexia to shove you over to jenni but she didn't. instead, her arms snaked around your body and she nuzzled further into you.

you pouted over at jenni and she kissed it from your lips, leaning over and flicking off the lamp. you glared into the darkness, feeling jenni press another kiss to your head.

after what felt like forever and you were sure that both jenni and alexia were asleep, you wriggled from your space between them and swiped your phone, quietly slipping out of the room.

you jumped onto the sofa and opened the lioness groupchat, typing only two words with determination flowing through your veins.

REMATCH NOW

[fruittt-punchhh]

attachment

(couldn’t find image source anywhere, if u know pls lmk!!)

Synopsis: Choso was one of your closest friends - you spent so much time together, others said you were ‘attached at the hip’. But when his curiosity blooms, you are the only one that can help quench his thirst for knowledge.

Characters: Choso Kamo x reader (about time)

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! smut, fem! reader, virgin! Choso (so virgin that he lives in a world where he has somehow at the age of twenty something never heard about masturbating or sexual intercourse), college au, link to prn audio, suggestiveness, cursing, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, maybe a tiiiiiny bit of voyeurism, pet/affectionate names, big (pretty) dick! Choso, just our sweet lovey boy Cho in his full glory tbh.

Word count: A solid 6k

Notes: AHEM! there is some spicy audio from twitter linked in this post as well as an SFW image at the end. you’ll know when you’ve reached that point, and it will be emphasized like this, accentuated with '*'. if that's not something you're down for, you can totally scroll past. if you arrrre down for that, i think you'll need to be logged into twitter beforehand for the audio. if you're on mobile, I'm not sure if you'll be able to hear the audio as you read (unfortunately), but if you can, you're in for a treat bitch.

More Notes: i finally have some of my own choso smut on this blog wtf. he is my guilty pleasure omg i mean literally who doesn't love him, more specifically him when he's an inexperienced desperate crying mess???? i really hope you enjoy this one, i have def enjoyed writing it. (side note - the songs i pick for these fics sometimes fit the vibe of what i wrote, and other times it's a song i can't get out of my head. both are the case for this one - i listened to this nonstop while writing so pls enjoy if that’s cool with u). there will be future parts, and if you want to be tagged in those and you’re not already, let me know!!! SORRY TO YAP ILY BYE

(I wanted to upload this at like 5p my time for engagement purposes but then I thought about all the bitches (me) that may work from home, read smut on the clock regardless (me), or simply don’t work rn, so I had to give you the goodness now)

“Y/n, c-can I ask you a question? Like.. a personal one?”

You and Choso were seated on the couch, eyes fixated on the rom com on the screen ahead. It was your weekly movie marathon night - the movie you two just finished was an action thriller that was right up Choso’s alley. It was your pick next, and you went with a classic rom com that had a few more spicy scenes than you anticipated. It left the air in the room feeling thick, both of you clearing your throats and glancing throughout the room as if someone’s parents were present.

You and Cho had been close friends for a while, and it helped that you shared a similar schedule this semester. Although he was a cutie, you had no clue if he shared a similar attraction to you. He was so shy, and while the shy emo boy thing has worked on you before, you felt like you’d do nothing but corrupt Choso’s innocent soul if you were to make a move. You let things play out naturally, enjoying the company he brought and your friendship - but if things went in a different direction, you wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest.

“Sure, Cho - what’s up?” You ask, noting the concerned look on his face.

“Have you ever.. done that before?” He asks, motioning to the screen, and your heart aches with how precious he looks. His eyes flick up at you when your hand rests on his shoulder so you can scoot a little closer towards him.

“Well, yeah.. yeah I have. What makes you ask?”

“J-Just the movie, I-I was just curious,” he blurts, trying not to sound as weird as he felt for asking.

“Well, what makes you want to ask me specifically, I mean,” you press, trying to read his expression through his shaggy hair and long lashes.

He blushes, making eye contact with you again before twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

“I just.. I’ve never done any that before, a-and I trust you, ya’ know? I didn’t know if I was weird for not doing that,” he says, his voice becoming shakier by the second.

“Ohmygod, Cho, no of course you’re not weird! Everyone discovers things at their own pace. There’s a whole lot of stuff when it comes to sex, so it can get overwhelming,” you say, rubbing his shoulder with your thumb to help calm his nerves.

Which was really doing the opposite. Your touch was searing hot on his skin and it worried him. He’s been touched plenty of times, even by you - but it felt like you might melt through his skin if you pressed hard enough. It felt that way on his outer thigh, too; your knee resting on his leg accidentally inching closer to the area he felt every blood cell creeping to.

“Y-Yeah, s’overwhelming for sure,” he says, shifting his position slightly further from you.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Begin? Do you have someone in mind you want to do stuff with?” You ask, begging he says no. You felt a little weird for hoping, but you would hate for his first experience to be with the wrong person.

More blood rushes to his cheeks when he makes eye contact with you, quickly looking back to the TV when he sees a hopeful look in your eye.

“N-No, definitely not. I just want to learn more, f-for when that time comes,” he says, clearing his throat and hoping you don’t catch on to his half-lie.

Phew.

“Well it’s probably best to start with the basics, yeah? Just the simple stuff, then eventually you kind of.. figure out where to go from there, if that makes sense,” you add, and he responds with a simple nod as he turns to face you again, ready to absorb whatever knowledge you have to share with him.

“So… have you ever touched yourself before?” You ask, trying not to wince at how awkward you felt asking him something so personal. But you had to assess how much he really knew.

He furrows his brows in confusion and lets out a small laugh, “Um, obviously - see?” He asks as he pokes his stomach with his pointer finger, and you remind yourself to keep a straight face. You grab his arm to refocus him and he huffs a breath of half-laughter as he notices how the blood in your fingertips pulse against his wrist.

“No, Cho. I mean like.. down there,” you say, motioning to his crotch area with your finger - he still looks confused.

“You know? To have an orgasm..” you ask, hoping he will pick up on your hints.

“Orgasm?”

You sigh, trying to find the right wording to explain this without sounding belittling.

“So, when I said ‘touching yourself’, I was referring to masturbation. I’m not gonna’ teach you how to do that because a Google search will tell you all you need to know,” and he nods feverishly.

“When you do.. sex stuff - like masturbate, have sex, all of that, usually the goal is to have an orgasm. Not always, but most of the time. I don’t know all the science behind it, but when you repeatedly stimulate the nerves in this area,” you say motioning to your groin, “you can have an orgasm.”

“O-Okay, I understand. Is the orgasm weird? Sounds like it,” he asks and you smile.

“No, no not at all. It feels really good. You know how when you have to sneeze and there’s this big buildup, then bam, you sneeze? And you feel so relieved? It’s kinda’ like that, but a million times better.”

“Better than eating your favorite food? Or watching movies?”

He asks, eager to know more.

And you sigh again, “Well, it’s hard to compare it to stuff like that, but it is really pleasurable. It just makes your body feel good, I guess. It’s hard to explain it through words, but now you know a little more - if you’re interested in that sorta thing.”

“No, I think I understand better now,” he says, thankful for your instruction.

“Oh, and if you do masturbate, when you have an orgasm, some fluid will come out from.. down there. But it’s normal and happens to everyone.”

“Fluid? Even girls?”

“Yes, Cho, even girls. It’s different though for sure. For girls it’s more like clear.. slimey stuff? And for you it’s like a white.. liquid? I’m sorry, I’m so bad at explaining shit,” you laugh, rolling your eyes at how stupid you felt.

“No, y/n you’re doing a great job! I had no clue about any of this stuff. Question.”

“Shoot.”

“What is it called? The fluid,” he says hesitantly, still trying to wrap his mind around how making fluid come out of any body part was a good thing. He feels his crotch grow warmer and, out of embarrassment, shifts his pillow to hide his growing problem.

“Oh, well there’s scientific names for it, but everybody calls it cum,” you say as you will the blush to fade from your cheeks.

“Cum. Like ‘come here’?”

“Y-Yeah, pretty much. Just spelled different.”

“Got it. Another question.”

You nod.

“How do you know when to masturbate?”

You were hoping this was one he wouldn’t ask.

“Well kind of whenever you want to,” and his eyes widen, “Let me rephrase that. It’s kind of like using the restroom, right? Something that you do behind closed doors.”

“Y-Yeah, makes sense. But whenever you want to? How do you know when you want to?”

“Okay,” you start, “you know how people in movies talk about being horny? It basically means you’re.. turned on, you want to have sex, stuff like that. So when you feel that way you could do it if you want. For you it’ll be a little easier to tell.”

“How?”

“You know how when you wake up in the morning and your… area is hard?” You ask and he blushes, turning again to look at the television.

“Yes,” he answers simply.

“Well when it is hard, it doesn’t always mean you’re horny - it can just happen randomly. But whenever you do start to feel that way, usually it’ll get hard. But that doesn’t mean you have to masturbate whenever it is that way, you know? Just if you want to,”

He gulps as he shushes the images in his mind of you waking up in his bed beside him, still trying to understand all the information being thrown at him.

“O-Okay. I-I think that’s good, for now, to start at least. Thank you for telling me all of that,” he says with a smile as he tries to focus his attention to the tv.

“It’s no problem, I promise. You can always ask me questions about anything, you know that right?” You say, wrapping your arm around his shoulders to give him a quick squeeze of reassurance.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, voice cracking as he finishes his statement. There was yet another passionate scene appearing on screen, albeit shrouded by covers and dim lighting. The discussion left him feeling hot all over, and the blood rushing southward had only increased. It didn’t help that you pressed your plush chest into his arm so sweetly when you hugged him. Although he had never seen a woman in that way in person before, he knew that if he had to pick, it’d be you. It always would be.

“Y/n, would you hate me if I had to go home? My tummy hurts for some reason,” he says with a grimace, rubbing his abdomen as he looks at you.

You chuckle, “Oh really? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the three pounds of candy you ate would it?” You ask, pointing to the empty wrappers he had shoved into the plastic sack they came in.

“You’re probably right, hah. I’m sorry, I just feel like I need to lay down,” he admits, wiping the sweat he feels accumulating on the back of his neck.

You shove into his arm, to which he responds with a fake ‘ow’. “Ugh, and right in the middle of my movie? You owe me one, Cho,” you say, sticking your bottom lip out for good measure.

He smiles brightly, crows feet decorating the corners of his eyes. “Duhhhh, we can just reschedule for the weekend. I should be free Saturday night if you wanna’?” He asks.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. Don’t leave much room in my calendar for traitors nowadays.” You say with a dramatic roll of your eyes. He giggles and pushes you back, sticking his tongue out before he gathers his things to go.

You reach up so he can give you your usual bye hug before he continues walking to your door.

“I’ll give you double next time, I-I don’t wanna get you sick,” he yells as he scrambles to unlock the door. You start to get up to demand your hug before you hear the door open with a rushed ‘see ya’ later’ as he shuts it.

He rushes out the door, fumbling for his keys before he sits in his car with a huff. He was throbbing now, but you said it was something to do behind closed doors. To be fair, he was scared to try. What if he didn’t do it right?

He wipes his palms on his pants, turning the key in the ignition before he pulls out of the drive. He had so much to think about - there was no time for music. He drives home in silence, replaying the conversation the two of you had as he tries to will his hardon to go away. But each time he thought about it, it would twitch in response to the images of you in his head.

You watch him leave from your kitchen window. He looked okay, maybe a little feverish. With how sudden it came on, you felt like it had more to do with the conversation you two had than the exuberant amount of candy. You did throw a lot of information on him at once though. You want to text him to get to the bottom of things, but he was notorious for texting you back as he was driving, not wanting to leave you waiting for long. You decide to wait until after the shower you so desperately needed.

-

You wrap your hair in a towel and throw on your previously laid out pajamas. You fan your face so your moisturizer can dry as you go to grab your phone off the charger. No texts from Choso, surprisingly. He usually always texted you when he got home.

‘just checking in, how you feeling??🤢’

You can’t even close your phone before a loud ding! echoes in your room.

-

The ride home was excruciating. Now that he knew there was a way to take care of things, he felt helpless not being able to now. At this point, he still didn’t even really understand how to… ‘stimulate the nerves’ - that could mean anything. The knowledge he had now plays on repeat in his mind as he pulls up to his apartment. He checks his phone - it reads a too-bright 9:33.

He goes inside and immediately lays on the couch, not having the energy to go upstairs just yet. He forced himself to sleep. He knew texting you would make him think of the way you smelled earlier, the way you were so suddenly all over him, how your chest pressed into him when you hugged him like you usually do.

It only made matters worse that he dreamed of you - his aching, throbbing problem seemed to be worse now that he refused to take care of it earlier. He rubs his eyes, reaching for his phone to see you texted him about thirty minutes ago.

‘I’m good! Just needed to lay down, sorry I didn’t text you!! I fell asleep when I got back😴🥱’

‘It’s okay bestie!!! Do you feel better now?’

‘Yeah a little bit! Thank you for talking to me earlier’

‘Sorry if it was weird’

‘ohmygooooooddddd dude I told you it wasn’t weird! I’m always down to talk about whatever silly butt’

‘I knowwww🤓I just felt awkward but I didn’t know who else to ask’

‘It’s okay I promise. Do you have any other q’s? Might make you feel less awkward yk’

‘Mayyyybe😟’

‘I’m waiting🙂‍↕️’

Your response made him anxious - he felt like he’d been hard for hours at this point. He knew it had something to do with you, though it was difficult to admit. He had always looked at you fondly, sneaking glances when you weren’t looking, finding reasons to come over, staying up late just to talk on the phone. But he was so new to everything he had no idea on how to take things further, if you even wanted to.

He did want to learn more about you, though - like he always did.

‘do you touch yourself?’

You did not expect him to ask anything like that. He was usually so innocent and coy. It could have been genuine curiosity, although your stomach was telling you something else.

‘ummmmm yes sometimes🤔why’

He did not expect your answer, either. Not that he thought you wouldn’t - you obviously knew enough about it to teach him well. But he also didn’t think you would, maybe he was even hoping you wouldn’t. Knowing that you do made him feel like he could combust.

‘I was just curious!! sorry if that was too far’

He types the message quickly, locking his phone before he headed upstairs. He was determined to learn more - he was so hard at this point it was hurting. He couldn’t keep his mind clear from the lewd depictions of you sprawled out for him so pretty.

He sits into his computer chair quickly, logging onto his desktop before he pulls up an incognito tab. He knew that porn was out there, but he wanted actual educational material.

-

It’s been only fifteen minutes and he feels like he's discovered an entirely new world. He knows even more than he bargained for and he’s seen enough instructional diagrams to last a lifetime. He feels like he has a decent grasp on how to masturbate and even some ways to please others, when that time comes.

He grabs his phone, worried what your response would be to his prying question.

‘no it’s okay! just didn’t expect you to ask but yeah, it can be a great stress reliever!!’

You send the message, hopeful you didn’t sound to forward.

He receives it and the tent in his pant twitches involuntarily. He puts his phone face down on the desk, taking a breath as he attempts to process what you said.

‘also not to change the subject bc we can still talk about whatever, but i really need help on the calc hw🙏😀’

He was too excited at the thought of you so expertly relieving your stress. He imagines you all red faced, panting and falling apart. How sweet you’d sound gasping and whining his name. The thought has him reaching for the waistband of his lose sweats, his long fingers making his abdomen tense when they move further, brushing the trimmed hairs at his base before they just barely wrap around his shaft. He pulls his sweats over his length, gasping at the dry stimulation. His cock springs forward, smacking loudly on his stomach as he winces. He’s been painfully hard for hours now - his angry tip was drooling precum, smearing it underneath his belly button into his happy trail. He grabs himself again, wrapping somewhat firmly around the base of his cock, careful not to squeeze too hard. The diagrams he studied said too much of a grip wasn’t ideal, but too loose wouldn’t provide enough stimulation.

He pulls his hand up slowly, the skin around his tip enveloping the curves of his cock head snugly before releasing it as he moves his hand downwards back to its original position.

‘f-fuck,’ he whines, already overwhelmed by the new sensation. It’s not like he hasn’t felt something similar before - but the new knowledge of what this was, what it led to, left his breath shaky from the anticipation. He moves again, gripping slightly harder as he brings his hand up further than before, almost entirely to the tip as more spurts of his essence leak from his tip to his fingers.

He continues, slowly increasing his pace. Each stroke elicited a noise from him - a gasp or a grunt, and downright pitiful whines that were ripped from the bottom of his lungs. He had never felt so close to nirvana before and he couldn’t help vocalizing* his pleasure as he struggles to keep a steady pace. He tries to stop his mind from drifting, but the snug grip he has on his length as he repeatedly bucks into his hand sends him to a place where every thought is infiltrated with your essence. The way your hands squeeze his shoulder, how the fat of your hips threatened exposure when you wore your favorite pajama shorts, how you were always so warm, how your hair smelled when he hugged you. He reaches his free hand up into his shirt, resting on his heart as he tries to match the erratic beating rhythm with his strokes. He’s nearly crying now, strangled noises leaving his throat so raw and sharp, voice cracking and heaving as he feels an unfamiliar pull in his groin. He’s whining out pitiful cries of your name now in response to the borderline overstimulation of his pretty, weeping cock. Sweat pools on his body as his hips come entirely off the chair to pump messily into his fist, chasing a release he didn’t know he needed.

-

You check your phone again, seeing a message that still read as ‘delivered’. Choso was usually so quick to text you back, almost like he left the screen open to your messages only. You were starting to worry that he may actually be sick with his unusually inconsistent communication. The calculus problem you needed help with was staring back at you on your laptop screen, still waiting to be answered.

You open up your discord to see his status as ‘idle’. However, when you open Skype, you see a little green dot showing he was active in the last hour. Might as well call him here if he didn’t have his phone.

-

Shit. His vision was turning white as he felt every sense in his body ignite before he is lurched back into reality when a familiar chime plays in the background, somehow perceivable over the dull ringing in his ear. The sound is hardly audible behind his pathetic whimpers as he tries to steady his breathing before he answers. He flips his phone over first to see a message from you from a few minutes ago, and he curses a long string of 'fuck, fuck, fuck'.

He answers the call, feeling so stupid for keeping you waiting again. He’s unaware of the state he appears to be in when the webcam turns on, bright desktop light illuminating his red, fucked-out face.

He stutters, still struggling to catch his breath as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“H- Hi, Hi, y-y/n,” he says, choking out an airy laugh as he puts his head in his hand.

“Were you just -“ you say, putting the pieces together as you take in his image - splotchy, sweat-shined skin, hair stuck slick to his forehead, shaky hands, and bitten, swollen lips. It would explain the inconsistent messaging, the off-kilter questions from earlier, and most importantly, the state he was in now. He was nearly moaning on the call, still too caught up in his obvious state of pleasure.

“I swear, I wasn’t, hah,” he starts, taking a deep breath again as he finds a nearby towel and runs it through his sweaty, disheveled hair, letting out an audible 'fuck' to your surprise - he never cursed in front of you.

“J-Just got back from a run!” He adds with a smile, clearing his throat as he readjusts in his chair.

“I thought you were sick?” You ask, trying to adjust your laptop camera as you sit back into the bed. Choso gasped, barely detected by his webcam mic as your camera twitched downwards in your attempt to reposition. The camera flashed your waist, hugged tightly by your white tank top, which was followed by your full chest, nearly heaving out of the neckline - his breath hitched as he catches a glimpse of your nipples peeking through the thin material. All too quickly the camera is refocused by on your face.

He thought this would make it better for him, having the camera pointed away from your tempting figure. But your clean, soft skin shined so brightly on camera and made him feel like he could melt. He still breathes heavy, trying to find an explanation to your question.

“Yeah, phew - felt like I was getting a fever, wanted to run out the ick, ya’ know?” He says, chuckling nervously after he finishes. He looks down at his gray t shirt, now covered in sweat.

“Gimme’ just a sec’ - gonna change,” he says and you respond with a hesitant ‘okay’. You chose not to tease him although the thought was lingering - he was probably as embarrassed as he’d ever been getting somewhat caught in the act.

He reaches his hand up to his webcam, sliding the privacy shield to your right - only halfway. He doesn’t realize his mistake, his still shaking fingers betraying him. He stands from his desk with a huff, and your hand flies to your mouth as you stifle a gasp. For a brief moment, his pelvis faces the camera before he turns to find a shirt. He’s pulling his sweats up as you’re able to see just a flash of his crotch, light brown hairs decorating his pelvis that come to a head at the end of a sharp, defined ‘v’. In the few seconds, you were able to see a clear outline of his dick pressed firmly into the fabric of his sweats. It looked girthy and he sat so heavy and pretty - the rounded mushroom tip protruding where it rested in the left leg of his pants. There was a darker gray patch near his tip, signaling the problem you’ve suspected him to have since he left your place earlier. He unknowingly continues his show, pulling his ruined shirt over his fluffy hair, flashing his taught abdomen before your very eyes. You could tell he was built under his clothes, and a lot of his time outside of class and hanging out with you was spent in the gym. But the up close viewing on his toned figure was enough to send a heat rushing towards your core as filthy thoughts of him on top of you flash one after the other. He unfortunately turns to find a new shirt, coming back after he finds a white compression tee to smooth over his still damp torso.

He slides the cover left, smiling at the camera with a wave as he announces his return. You clear your throat, trying to refocus your attention to the matter at hand.

“Hey yeah, um - the homework, right. It’s number… 26 on the ‘limits’ assignment,” you explain.

“Read it to me,” he demands, breathing finally stabilized from earlier.

You read the equation, explaining the error you got each time you plugged it into your calculator.

His face lights up, “Oh, yeah! That one was tricky, it’s D though. I’ll explain it in class tomorrow if you want,” he adds, desperate to end the call. While he could look at you eternally, the sensitivity he was experiencing had him nearly ripping the wood from his desk topping with his fingernails.

“Awesome, thank you!” You reply, selecting the correct answer before you minimize the tab, wanting to set the call to full screen for a moment.

“Cho, can I come over tomorrow? I know you said we wouldn’t be able to until Saturday, but I can already tell I’ll be bored tomorrow.”

He’s shocked.

“M-My place? We always go to yours though -,” he answers, glancing around at the state of his room to be met with more of a mess than he remembered.

“Well yeah, but we never go to yours though! Figured it could be fuuunnn,” you add, hoping he doesn’t see right through your real intentions. The intentions you had of ensuring he was taught well, far better than you were able to earlier. You feel as if the dots connected before you - his permanent blushed cheeks he wore so proudly whenever you touched him, the longing look in his eyes as you attempted to explain the basics of self-pleasure, and how frantically he had to leave after said conversation. Even if you were reading into this incorrectly, it would be nothing more than another movie night, which you'd never turn down.

He smiles again, nodding as he says, "You know what? Yeah, yeah that would be fun. Just gotta' tidy up before then," he finishes with a laugh, trying to remind himself that asking you to come over right now might be a step too far.

"Oh you know I don't care Cho, I'll take you however I can get you," you say as you search for the blush you expect to appear - and it does.

"Oh, y/n, he sighs, and the slight desperation in his tone made your stomach drop.

“Um, I know I've already said this today but would you hate me if I got off the call?" He asks, not so subtly seeking your permission. "I need a shower bad, hah," he says, putting emphasis on 'need'.

You give him his sought after permission, waving a quick 'bye' before he does the same, leaving the call with a sigh.

-

You breathe deeply, closing your laptop screen with a huff as you decide to leave the rest of your homework until later. If you had enough sense, you figured Choso was still sat on the other side of his desktop, fingers reaching into his waistband to finish what he had started earlier. You enjoyed the thought, imaging how sweet he'd sound when he found release for the first time.

You knew you had plans to make a move tomorrow, but you didn't want it to fall on deaf ears. If Cho was anything, it was oblivious, you think, remembering the poke of his tummy from earlier when you asked if he had ever touched himself. Bless his heart.

You stand to your dresser, pilfering through the countless pairs of boring underwear and bras to find the stash you usually kept for special occasions. You pulled out a whopping ten pairs of panties, all adorned with different lace patterns, bows, and varying pretty colors. You find two of your favorites - a lacy white pair with a tiny bow on the waistband that's entirely see-through, and a pastel pink thong covered in little hearts. You make sure to grab the matching bras that were thankfully clean. You lay them on the bed behind to you, snapping a quick picture before you return everything to your drawer.

You search through a lower drawer, pulling out two random pairs of shorts and some shirts to match. You quickly throw two outfits together, taking individual pictures of each before you shove everything back into the drawer. You sit back in the bed, snuggling under the covers as you pull up your messages.

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘HELLPPP’

‘can’t figure out what to wear for tomorrow❗️’

-

He breathes deeply, steadying himself as he stands to his feet. He still had to finish what he started, and a shower probably wouldn’t hurt with the mess he felt like he might make. He strips his clothes, leaving them in the floor as he makes his way to the bathroom.

He makes sure to bring his phone with him, ringer on and volume fully up. He had missed too many of your messages tonight, and he’d be damned if he missed another. He sits his phone on the nearby shower shelf, double checking the ringer was on.

The hot water quickly fogs the bathroom mirror as he looks down pitifully at his swollen cock, still hard and desperate as it cries for attention. He pictured your sweet face beneath him on your knees, doing the few things he could now imagine clearly. He knew you were the expert between the two of you, and he needed you to be the one to teach him what real pleasure felt like when it was given by your deft hands. He wouldn’t dare think of how sickly sweet it’d feel to rut into your mouth, how earth-shattering it’d be to bully his length deep into the goddess between your legs.

ding!

He’s pulled out of his trance, grabbing his phone with a smile as he sees your contact name shine brightly on the screen. He reads your message, then reads the incoming three, trying not to pick the image with the shorter bottoms - but he truly can’t help himself.

‘ummmmmm lemme think’

‘definitely the second one, the blue is NICE🙂‍↕️’ he responds, trying to sound like a regular person that was not at all interested in how your curves would sneak out of the bottom of your shorts.

He steps into the shower, shoulders dropping at the relaxing warmth. He hasn’t stopped picturing your face since he’s been home, but you so graciously gave him more eye candy to gawk at with the silly slip of your webcam. The low neckline of your top burned bright in his mind as he reaches his hand down again, wrapping his fingers gently around his width, leaving his thumb pressed softly into the prominent vein on the side. He wanted to try to mimic what he thought your touch would feel like - the brief flashes he got of your pretty hands typing away at your keyboard gave him all the information he needed to work with. He started slowly, dragging his large hand up before he thumbed his dripping slit, whining your name immediately at the contact. He pictures you again with your knee sliding up his thigh, hand firm on his shoulder while you whisper what he wishes were sweet nothings. He continues his soft hold as he strokes himself so sweetly, just like how he imagined you would. The pitiful noises he made earlier are now increasing ten-fold, loud whines echoing in the shower as he chases his release. He didn't realize how close he was already from the previous edging session he just brutally experienced. His cockhead was spitting now, the over-abundance of precum falling in stringy lines to the shower floor. He feels the pull in his groin again, so much quicker than he did last time, and it’s like he knew this was it.

It’s almost like you did, too.

‘ding! ding! ding!’

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’

‘but you’ve gotta help me pick the full fit Cho🖤’ you send, internally squealing as you put your phone face down on the bed, forcing yourself to not look at the time he reads the message.

-

He stills his movements slightly, maintaining your his soft grip, reaching with his free hand to his phone, careful not to soak it as he brings it into the shower. The screen recognizes his face instantly, giving him a sneak peek of the lewd images you so graciously sent him as he feels his heartbeat in his ears - his heart rate increases so dramatically, he sees each pump of blood in the outskirts of his field of vision. He pauses for a moment, tightening the grip on his cock before he starts pumping furiously, nearly drunk on the pleasure as he whines breathy cries of your name. He opens the message and his jaw falls open, his pathetic cries of ‘please’ ‘more’ and ‘baby’ reverberating off the shower walls. In a fleeting moment, his balls clench tight to his pelvis and the pressure he felt pooling in his groin now snapped as his hips lurch forward, painting the shower floor white all for you as he tries to stabilize himself by holding onto the wall. He looks down through his almost blacked vision, surprised at the sheer volume of fluid he felt was being ripped from him. He kept cumming even after his hand had stilled, sharp jerks of his cock overstimulating him with each searing hot pump of liquid. He finally finishes with heavy breaths that threaten to turn into cries as he remembers the messages you sent him.

In his daze, he finds his phone wet in his hand as he rushes for his towel, wiping the screen quickly. Your messages still waiting to be answered that were sent a whole… 4 minutes ago.

‘y/n’

‘thank gou’

‘um’

‘areyou really asking me topick?,?’

Thank you? Was he drunk?

‘thank you?’

‘and yes dummy I’m asking you to pick :P’

And his heart quickens again.

‘thank you for sending me that’

‘I likeit a lot’

‘sorrymy pgones wett’

‘the pink one. please.’

He responds, making sure to type the last message clear as day.

‘why is your phone wet you nasty??’ you respond, laughing to yourself at his tangible nervousness that was apparent even via text.

‘showerrrrr’

‘and I don’t even get a pic back? wowww’ you respond, trying to see just how far you could take this before you head to bed for the night. You expect him to respond with a message filled with emojis as he skirts the question.

He finishes his shower quickly, unwilling to ruin his phone in an attempt to take a shower selfie. He steps out and dries off in a hurry, finding a nearby pair of jogging pants as he rushes back to his bedroom, hair dripping cold water down his back.

‘[Attachment: 1 Image]’ *

The warmth between your thighs grows as you selfishly save the image to your camera roll. You expected anything but his forward response - compared to the previous dearth of knowledge of how he looked under his clothes, you felt like he had sent you straight-up pornographic material.

‘you really outdid me, Cho’

‘who knew you were hiding all that?’

‘I’ll have to think of a way to repay you tomorrow 🖤 you’re so good to me’ you dote, knowing his affinity for praise.

He blushes, smiling hungrily as he types his response, wincing at the feeling when his half-hard cock jumped in response to your words.

‘i literally can’t wait’

pt. 2 coming

[selineram3421]

*has an idea* ....shit.

Tune On In

Prolouge

Alastor X Human Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ Can't think of any. Italics= thoughts ⚠

You had this strange ability since you were little.

Whispers, voices and other strange noises. It was something you could hear in the back of your mind.

The first time it happened was when you were six. You were playing in the living room of your home when the radio turned on, screams and other strange noises you'd hear on scary movies. You ran to your parents and told them, but when you brought then to the radio, all they could here was music playing.

"No more scary movies for you!", your mother said and left the room.

Your father sighed and pat your head.

"It was probably some metal music, don't worry too much and change the station.", he said before also leaving the room.

You were left with a now quiet radio.

There were no more screams or splattering sounds, instead there was humming.

"Hmhmmhm~"

As time passed, you eventually stopped telling your parents. They only gave each other concerned glances and once one of the whispers told you that they were thinking of putting you in an asylum.

For your safety, you had to just bear the strange noises.

.

It was when you were in your early twenties that you heard something on the radio, it having stopped for seven years.

The small radio on your work desk turned on and a man's voice went through.

"Salutations!"

"Turn off that music! I'm on a call!", screeched one of your coworkers.

You rushed to lower the volume but continued to listen in.

"Yes, I know it's been a while since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast."

Hell? You thought.

"Sinners, rejoice!"

You heard him start to dis someone named Vox and honestly, you didn't need to hear the other half of the conversation to know that the radio man was winning.

"Oh, this will be fun~", the radio man finished.

It stopped after he laughed, then you could hear the normal music playing again.

Turning around, you apologized about the radio being too loud. "Sorry! I forgot that I had the volume on high."

After work, you decided to tap into your curiosity. Now you knew that the whispers and strange radio broadcasts were not normal at all, but you never tried to speak back to it.

Sure, the whispers would warn you about people and other things, but you never acknowledged the voices.

Maybe.. Maybe I can see why I'm hearing things. You thought.

Once in your apartment, you tinkered with the radio a bit and turned to the station you normally heard the radio man spoke from. Putting up the volume, all you could hear was static but that soon changed when you tapped your small microphone.

"Hello?"

The static stopped and all went quiet.

"Hello?"

*sighs* Fucking shit. This might take a while to update because this is brand spanking new. I have no notes on this. It just slammed into my brain.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @big-brother-problems @mistpurpl3 @chewbrry @willowbrookhoot @briethekitsune @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | ---

[whimsyfinny]

He's a Winchester

Chapter 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, mention of toxic parenting/custody battle, angst, alcohol,

Chapter Word Count: 3471

MDNI 18+

A/N: here it is! I’m not gonna lie, this is going to be very slow burn at first, but don’t worry, you know me and you know how much juicy content I write so it’s definitely coming hahaha. I’m also trying to figure out a schedule for posting this, so hopefully I can upload two chapters a week.

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out. 

Photos from Pinterest

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I reached for the bottle of wine for the third time in the last hour and a half. I was sitting with Kat, pyjamas adorned, in the living room of mine and Levi's modest two bedroom house. For financial (and personal) reasons, our little house didn't follow current trends and looked more like something out of a popular 90s sitcom. The couch was comfy, the blankets were fuzzy, and a fresh pot of coffee was always brewing. Pictures embellished the walls of every milestone Levi had achieved; every birthday party, every new dirt bike, every new hairstyle. There were a few of Kat and I from over the years, going way back to when we first met back in ‘99 and both decided to rock platform heels on at the turn of the millennium - having tiny babies at the time didn't seem to stop us. Every single moment on these walls was a happy memory - something that I would treasure forever, yet there was something missing. There were no photos - or perhaps a scarce few - of my own parents, or of them with Levi, or of any extended family for that matter. The price I paid when I decided to have my son out of wedlock, at barely twenty years old, with a man who my family saw as a total stranger, is a price I'd pay every time in a heartbeat. Kat and Toby were our family now, and that was more than I could ever ask for. That was why the sheer possibility of Levi getting to meet his dad for the first time in, well, ever… it had my mind spinning. It was a scenario I'd dreamt of, late at night when I couldn't sleep and the burdens of life weighed me down. I conjured false memories in my minds eye of the pair of them fixing his bike on the drive or driving to school in the impala. I pictured us having breakfast together as a family and taking trips to the movies. Being together. Because no matter how many dates I went on, or how many frogs I’d kissed over the years, none of them were Levi's father.

None of them were Dean Winchester.

“Girl you have to reach out to him,” Kat walked in from the adjacent kitchen before slumping on the couch next to me, wine glass elevated to reduce spillage.

“Kat I could barely look at him today without feeling like I was going to have a heart attack - how the fuck am I supposed to talk to him?” I glanced at her with wide eyes, every nerve in my body on edge despite the wine and scented candles. Kat sighed. 

“You might never get this opportunity again, and we both know that if you don’t give Levi the opportunity to meet his father then you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.” I held my breath, urging the raging storm in my mind to quiet down before letting the air gush from my lungs.

“Yeah I know. I just…I just never thought that this would actually happen, you know? I never thought that Dean would show up here. I figured Levi would eventually track him down when he was old enough to make that decision on his own. I have no idea how to even approach this.”

“Sure you do!” Kat beamed, a wicked glint in her eye, “you sit him down and say, ‘Hey Dean! Remember when we had sex in the back of that amazing car of yours nine years ago? Well, actions have consequences, and yours in eight years old and sitting in his science class right now.’”

I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face and I cackled when the bit of popcorn I threw landed in her wine glass.

“Bitch.”

I blew her a kiss in response to her insult. It didn’t take long though for the distraction to run its course and for my mind to return to its state of panic.

“But seriously, what am I going to say to him? What if I tell him, and he rejects us too, like my family did?”

Her smile softened.

“From everything that you’ve told me about that man, I highly doubt he’s going to reject you. Sure, he might not stick around permanently, but he sounds like the kind of guy that would stay in touch,” her softened smile turned to a stern stare, “but he’s only going to do that if he knows. He deserves to know he has a son.”

I took a long gulp of my wine. 

“Yeah, I’m going to tell him…” I paused, gnawing my bottom lip as I drew my knees to my chest, “it’s Saturday tomorrow so I’m not at work and Levi has two hours at the track. I can try to do it tomorrow, but I’m not sure if I’ll even be able to track Dean down in that time - I have no idea where he could be.”

“Hey, I’ll pick up Levi from Motocross - it’s been a few days since him and Toby have spent any proper time together anyway, just them two. Tobes’ has been dying to show him those brand new boots of his.”

We shared a smile. That’s the thing about Kat; she always had my back, no matter the situation.

“Thanks babes, I owe you one.”

She shook her head.

“No way - this is me returning the favour from when Toby’s dad decided to show an interest in his own child. I’m pretty sure my kid thought you were adopting him at one point from how much he stayed here,” I laughed, remembering the camp bed I bought especially for Toby, along with all the extra duvet sets and boxes of cereal I’d had to purchase for the best part of half a year.

“He’s a good kid, and honestly he and Levi entertained themselves for most of it.”

There was another pause in the conversation as I recounted how difficult it had been for Kat when David had shown up, insisting on being a part of Tobys life despite zero contact since his son was born. They’d argued over custody, over which school he went to, the clubs he attended. Even his hobbies were on the line, with David wanting him to play football despite Toby already being involved down at the track with the bikes. The stress caused Kat to lose weight and sleep, and she nearly lost her job over it all when she kept falling asleep at her desk. I’d lost count of how many times she’d cried in my arms. Cried over a man who thought that practically owning his son was his God given right despite being an absent father, and I think that is what scared me the most. That I would feel the same wretched things that she felt, and the waves of disappointment that crashed over her time and time again when false promises were made. It took her months to settle on an agreement due to David's behaviour, and Toby finally sees his father, albeit only for one weekend a month. It's better than nothing, but certainly not worth the fight that was fought with blood, sweat and tears. 

I hope from the bottom of my heart that Dean takes the news well, and doesn't leave us in the dust like he does in my worst nightmares.

It had taken me around thirty minutes to track down Dean. Well, to at least find the impala. It's common knowledge that if you find that car, Dean isn't far away. I’d parked my truck two spaces down, and luckily we were within walking distance of my favourite café, Jolenes’. It was my safe space. The place that I would finally tell him about Levi.

I pulled the sleeves of my soft cardigan down over my hands to stop myself from chewing nervously on my nails. Leaving the safety of my truck, I paced over to the black Chevy and stood by it, determined to speak to Dean as soon as possible. I knew that if I had stayed sitting behind my own wheel, there was a huge chance that I'd chicken out and just drive away. As I waited I checked over the car in front of me, admiring how he still kept it spotless after all these years. Unable to stop myself, I let my gaze drift over to the backseat, the events that unfurled on the soft leather racing to mind. I pulled my lip between my teeth, unable to resist the replay of memories.

“You have good taste in cars.”

I practically launched out my skin as the voice came from behind me. I could hear the amusement in his voice from a few feet away. I spun on my heel and our eyes locked, the charming grin slipping slightly from Deans’ lips when he realised it was me. The playfulness in his features quickly softened, a true, genuine smile now gracing his lips.

“Dean…” I suddenly felt breathless, but despite my nerves I returned his smile in kind.

“It's good to see you (Y/n),” he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, enveloping me in his entirety. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and taking a deep breath, my brain tingling at his familiar scent.

“You too, Dean. It's been too long.”

After a moment we released each other and Dean stood up straight, smiling at me again with a soft twinkle in his eye. We both flinched slightly when someone cleared their throat and he took a step back. 

“Oh, uh, (Y/n), this is Sam, my younger brother,” he patted the shoulder of the young man standing beside him, and I instantly recognised him from the dessert parlour. He was tall, taller than Dean even, which was one hell of an accomplishment, and his face held a similar boyish charm to Deans. Yet he looked softer around the edges, like he hadn't been hardened by life too much yet.

“It's a pleasure, I'm (Y/n). I've known you're brother for a while,” I smiled as I shook his hand, taking note of the rough calluses beginning to form on his palms. “He used to talk about you all the time, apparently you're the smart one of the family,” with a grin and a quick glance at Dean, I tested the waters with humour. If he laughed or took the blow like a champ, now was a good time to talk to him. Sam chuckled, squeezing my hand slightly in his before letting it go. 

“Ouch… (Y/n), sweetheart, aren't you supposed to be on my side here? Y’know, with our history and all…?” he feigned hurt with a hand on his chest before his lips twitched up and he shot me a wink.

“I mean… she's not wrong,” Sam laughed, dropping his hands lazily into his pockets.

“Hey, I'm just going on what you told me, Dean. Don't hold that against me,” I grinned at them both, unsure of what to do with my hands so I crossed them across my chest.

A small breath of silence passed between us, Deans’ gaze holding mine with an intensity that made me want to look away. I didn't. Sam cleared his throat again, clapping his hand to Deans’ shoulder before taking a step back.

“I'll, uh, give you guys a few minutes,” and with an appreciative nod from Dean, Sam gave us some space. With his younger brother gone, my heart began to flutter in my chest. The time to break the news was getting closer, and my nerves were on edge. On fire.

“So,” he started, taking a step closer with a deep breath, “how's it going? How long has it been?”

“Nine years,” I was almost too hot on the mark, my words coming out faster than I'd intended and Dean blinked slightly. I sighed, looking down. “There's been a lot going on, and honestly, I've really needed you at times. You're a hard man to find Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” his brows pinched apologetically and he reached for my hand, tracing my knuckles with his thumb. I took a deep breath and met his gaze again.

“Do you… do you have some time? I need to talk to you. It's important, and if I don't do it now, I don't know if I'll get another chance.” 

He nodded slowly, giving my hand a squeeze, releasing it hesitantly with a slight wince to his features.

“Uh oh,” he said, “am I in trouble?”

I laughed, the sound light off my chest.

“Oh Dean,” I reached up to touch his face, and his instinctive reaction was to lean into my palm, “you don't know the half of it.” 

The walk to the café had been pleasant. We chatted about what we'd been up to since we last met - Dean revealing he was still in the same line of work and had travelled around a lot, never really settling down. There was something about that nugget of information that made my stomach twist in knots. He learnt I was still a receptionist, this time at the local garage  instead of the large dealership I had scored before. He asked why I'd changed, to go to something smaller, lesser, and my silence urged him to wait until we were at our destination. He knew I was anxious, and he did his best to keep conversation light and breezy until the time was right. To an untrained eye he was unphased, yet I could tell from the lip nibbling and flitting gaze that he was nervous too.

Do you think he's already guessed it?

The bell jingled as we walked in, the two baristas looking up and instantly greeting me with a wave and a smile.

“Hey (Y/n)! Your couch is free,” the first barista, a young man around my age with soft blond curls waved to me across the counter, his brilliant grin making me smile with a comforting familiarity. “Your usual?”

“Yes please! Thanks, Jake,” I returned the friendliness, stepping around the tables until we arrived at my favourite spot.

“And for your… date?” He gestured to Dean, who was now shrugging off his leather jacket, “what can I get for you pal?” 

Dean hesitated, before just holding his hands up.

“Uhhh, I don't know, I guess I'll have what she's having.”

With our hot beverages on their way, I sat down in my usual nook in the corner whilst Dean sat down opposite, in that same plush armchair that Kat had sat in yesterday. Where Kat had been swallowed by the chair and its all-consuming cushions, Dean had the opposite effect. He made the chair look small under his broad form, like it was made for a child. There were a few moments of silence, neither of us really knowing where to start. So I bit the bullet.

“Dean… before I tell you anything, just know that I've been trying to get hold of you on and off for years. Your number always seemed to go to voicemail and I never got a call back. So please just… know I tried.” 

I looked up and he was totally engaged, already hanging off every word I said as he leant forward, his elbows on his knees. Our attention pulled away from each other briefly as our coffees arrived, hand delivered by the second barista - a woman a few years older than myself with a jet black pixie cut.

“Thanks Emily, you're an angel,” I grasped the mug before she even had a chance to put it on the table and clutched it in my lap, letting the warmth seep through my palms to help soothe my nerves. 

“No worries babes, you two have fun,” she looked between Dean and me with a playful smirk, throwing me a wink before she turned around. 

Great, the gossip starts now.

I turned back to Dean who was now sitting on the edge of his seat. I took a deep breath.

Do it now.

“Dean, I have a son.”

I watched his face twitch slightly, almost like it dropped in disappointment, however it was so fleeting across his features that it was hard to tell. He pulled a strained smile onto his lips.

“(Y/n) that's great, I'm happy for you,” he looked down at his boots briefly, choosing his next words, “I guess this is you telling me to stay away, huh? Now that you have a family and all. It's ok, I get it.”

I shook my head, placing my cup on the table so I could pull myself to sit on the edge of the couch, almost mirroring Dean.

“No, no Dean, that's not- look, what I'm saying is…” another deep breath, “you, have a son.”

I watched his eyes go wide, unsure if he heard me correctly.

“What?” His voice was breathy.

I looked down into my mug for a second, choosing my words. 

“I have a little boy; he's eight, his name is Levi…and he's yours, Dean. He's your son.”

I dared to look up at him, watching his eyes go wider and his mind empty of thoughts. Either that, or his mind is racing so fast that it's left his body on standby. I gave him a few minutes to process the news. Or at least process it the best he could as it would likely be days or weeks before this fully sunk in. Nervousness prickled at my own skin, my worst fears of rejection bubbling to the surface again at his silence. I sighed.

“It’s ok, Dean, I’m not expecting you to-”

He stood abruptly, stepped over the coffee table and pulled me to my feet, wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing grip. His arms were so tight that it almost winded me, yet I returned his embrace. The feeling of his lips on the top of my head surprised me as he kissed my hair, the sensation warm and comforting. He placed one, two more kisses before he cupped my face in his large hands, his rough palms gentle against my cheeks as I locked eyes with him. The sight was beautiful. The annoyance and exasperation that I expected to be met with was nowhere to be seen, and I saw no shadow of negativity within those evergreen eyes. All I saw was love. Pride. Joy. Excitement. The relief washing over me felt the same as climbing into your nice, warm comfy bed when on the brink of exhaustion. 

“I’m a dad?” his voice cracked slightly whilst his eyes shimmered.

I nodded as a grin erupted across his face, followed by an airy, almost unbelieving chuckle.

“Holy fuck, (Y/n)-”

“You’re not mad?” my voice was quiet.

“What?” Dean looked at me as though I’d grown a second head, “of course not. Why would I be mad?”

“Because it’s been nine years since we last saw each other, and suddenly this woman who you’ve not spoken to in nearly a decade drops the biggest truth bomb on you. A truth bomb  that I know you definitely weren’t expecting,” I try to step back but he pulls me in for another hug, squeezing the air out of me a second time.

“(Y/n), sweetheart, this is the best bit of news I’ve had in a long, long time.”

I smiled into his chest, freeing my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull him down into a hug of my own. We stood for a moment in our embrace as the coffee shop busied around us. I knew this shop and I knew this town and people would soon start to talk, start to try and figure out Dean: like who is he? How does he know (Y/n)? Why are they acting so familiar? Is he trouble? But that was all unimportant rubbish that I would deal with later. Right now, Levis father was here, and he knew. For the first time in my adult life I felt like I wasn’t keeping some devastating secret from an incredible man, and it was like I could breathe again. 

Pulling away from Deans’ bear hug, I tucked the wisps of hair away that had come loose from my claw grip and grinned up at him, reaching for his hand. I held it in mine as I swayed slightly on the spot, like an excited schoolgirl who’d just been asked on her first date. Dean smiled down at me, the sort of smile that shone on top of the world.

“So…” I started, biting my lip slightly.

“Do you want to meet your son?”

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

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[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VIII / Part IX

(Completed) Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.

It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 

He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 

There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 

There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 

He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 

She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 

Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 

It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 

Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.

He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 

He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 

He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 

It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 

“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 

She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 

She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 

You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 

You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 

Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.

They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 

You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 

From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 

You don’t even know where they got that one from. 

They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 

What happened to natural selection?

You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 

His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”

One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”

You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 

He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 

You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”

One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 

“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 

“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 

They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 

“What do you think they’ll give us?”

One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 

The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 

The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”

“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”

He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 

He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 

Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 

The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”

He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 

She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 

Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 

He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”

He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”

She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 

He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 

“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 

“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.

He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”

The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 

He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 

Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 

He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”

“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 

“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 

You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 

You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 

You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 

You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 

You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 

At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 

Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 

You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 

You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 

You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 

Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”

You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 

You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.

He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”

You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 

Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 

“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”

You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”

He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 

Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 

He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 

“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”

“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 

Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 

To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”

Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”

He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”

She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 

She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 

He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”

She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”

He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”

Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”

It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 

He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”

He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 

“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 

“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”

Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”

Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 

“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 

“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 

“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.

He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 

His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 

He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 

But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 

She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.

He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 

His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 

“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 

“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 

He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 

He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 

She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 

He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”

He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”

She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”

He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”

“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”

He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”

“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 

Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 

“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”

“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 

She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”

She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”

He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”

She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”

“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”

Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”

“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”

Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”

He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”

“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”

He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”

She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”

She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”

“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 

“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 

In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 

You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”

He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 

You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”

He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 

You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.

Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 

“I think it’s important you learn.”

You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.

He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 

His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”

You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”

His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”

You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 

“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 

You’ll always be there for one another.

You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 

You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 

He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”

You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 

He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 

The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 

If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 

He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 

This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 

You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 

Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 

It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 

Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 

He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”

The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 

Or he could help you. 

It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 

Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 

With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 

Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 

The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 

Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 

You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 

The Outlaw and The Sheriff

Their first movie together. 

He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 

Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 

She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 

“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.

She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”

He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 

“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 

He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?

Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 

But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.

Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 

He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 

He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 

She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 

She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 

She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 

He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 

She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.

He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 

He’s giving in now, giving into her. 

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

[reinawritesstuff]

First Kisses Are Hard

featuring: rindou haitani x fem!reader notes: if I have to start a blog as a means to fangirl over men I like, might as well start with this beautiful human being

Summary: sometimes taking that first step is harder than it seems

Discover who your crush is: ✅ Ask her out: ✅ Kiss her after the first date: ❌

It should've been simple, easy, a no-brainer- yet how in the world did he mess this up? Rindou had the perfect plan in mind on how he wanted to kiss you. He figured all girls had their idea of a perfect date, which resulted in the night ending with a kiss at the front step of the house. Seemed simple in hindsight. No way he could mess up with this game plan yielding high success. How does he know this you might ask? Read it from a Cosmopolitan magazine he secretly bought prior to the date with the hopes of impressing you.

"fuuuuck..." Rindou let out a groan as he slumped to his feet as soon as he got back home.

"Ah Rindou, you're back!" Rin walked out of his room with a towel in hand, as he attempted to dry his hair. "How did the date go?"

"Awful, just awful" he sighed as he had his face in his hands, trying to hide himself away from the world. "I fucked up so badly"

Ran raised his eyebrow as he looked at his brother still lying on the floor. "right...well, why don't you pick yourself up from the floor, sit on the couch, and tell me what happened."

Rindou sighed, moving to the couch as he slouched against it, further highlighting his will to live. Ran rolled his eyes at the dramaticism displayed by his brother. Kid these days, he thought to himself. "So?"

"I ruined the perfect date plan I had for us," Rindou said, adding nothing further to his statement. Ran's face dropped out of annoyance. "Need a little more context there Rin. Try again from the start."

"Right, so I had this great plan set for us. Food, talking, walking her home once it got late...and just right when I was about to kiss her before she went in, I chickened out. I chickened out. Me! She was waiting for me to kiss her...and you know what I did? Patted her on the shoulder, told her to have a nice night, and left. I left her there!"

Ran bit back a laugh, not realizing that the story would be more amusing than it already was. "Oh...I see. That is...unfortunate."

"She is going to break up with me. My god. I'm going to be the guy whose girlfriend broke up with him because he couldn't kiss her. What if she finds someone who can kiss her? Holy shit- Why didn't I just kiss her?" Rindou rambled in panic at his newfound realization.

"Rindou. Rindou...calm down. She's not going to break up with you. I think you're just jumping the gun at this point" Ran tried to calm him down, albeit trying not to laugh at him. "You're making it sound like you guys never kissed before." Rindou stayed silent at his words, making Ran raise his eyebrow at him. "You have...right?"

Rindou sighed and shook his head "I was waiting for the right moment. I read that girls want their first kisses to be memorable so I planned things so that it would be good enough." Ran cocked his head to the side, taking him his brother's words. "I didn't take you for quite the romanticist there. Sounds like something you'd see in movies."

"Whatever- the point is I didn't do it and I know she must be judging me for it." Rindou continued with a groan. "How am I supposed to face her tomorrow?" Ran shook his head as he threw his towel at him. "Just shut up and cool down for a moment, why don't 'cha? It's not that big of a deal. You'll get more chances; and if it bothers you that much, just talk to her about it. If she is the girl you say she is, she'll get it no question. If she doesn't, she ain't the one for you. It's that simple." Ran spoke with a shrug, getting up from his seat "Now if you excuse me, I'm drying my hair and then going to bed."

Rindou stayed silent taking in his brother's words. He won't admit it but surprisingly the wet towel did cool him down, even though he almost instantly wasn't happy with the fact his clothes and hair were now wet. "I'm gonna go see her..." he said with a mumble, getting up himself and leaving the apartment to go see her.

Arriving at your place, Rindou rang your doorbell and waited for you to open it. Even though he was nervous, the excitement of still getting to see you was there.

After what seemed like a moment, the door opened and there you stood staring at him in surprise "Rindou? What are you doing here?" You asked him, not expecting to see you here. "Missed me already? you know, it's just been an hour right?" You continued with a tease.

"I know...I just wanted to see you" He said with his ears starting to turn red. He wasn't expecting to see you in pajamas and how cute they looked on you.

"Did something happen? Do you want to come in?" You frowned taking in how nervous he looked.

"Ah no! I just wanted to apologize to you about today-" He said awkwardly, his hand rubbing against his neck as he looked at you. "Apologize? for what?" You asked him. "Today was a lot of fun so not sure what you mean. Were we meant to go somewhere else?"

"Oh no, no. That was all part of the plan, but when I was supposed to take you home...I was supposed to well you know, kiss you and stuff." Rindou admitted, his cheeks betraying how cool he wanted to portray himself to be.

Before you knew it, you burst out into laughter. "Is that what that was? I knew you were acting strange but I didn't realize that's what you were trying to do. That's very cute of you Rin"

"So...you're not mad?" He asked quietly

You responded by tugging on his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you kissed him on his lips yourself. "Never. I love every part of today, including this moment right here."

Rindou was caught off guard by your sudden boldness and yet all he could think was about how soft your lips were. He placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up towards him. "Good, because there's more of that coming soon." He said softly before kissing you himself.

[bad268]

Hey. I love your blog. It's amazing. Is it possible for you to write about actress reader x colby brock. Like they are each others favorite and Sam and colby invite her to one of their investigations. Like in one of her interviews found out that their her favorite YouTubers and colby might ask her on a date?

Thank you so much 💗

Tweets (Colby Brock X Actor! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Sam and Colby & Co.

Requested: Clearly (I had a little too much fun with this one lol)

Warnings: none.

Pronouns: First person (I/me)

W.C. 1087

Summary: An unearthed tweet leads to shocking revelations (with a best friend's intervention).

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^@/Colby's insta from November 16, 2023)

It all started with a resurfaced tweet from 2015…

I can’t say it was a lie, but it was before my big break, and I didn't have a manager running my social media accounts 24/7. I was just a normal teenager on Vine with time to kill. And now, I thought it was coming back to haunt me, pun intended.

That was until I received a DM from Colby himself asking me to be a part of their yearly tradition, Hell Week. At first, I was starstruck, but I would have been crazy to decline.

So that’s where we are now: preparing for the Conjuring House. A place of extremes. A place I told myself I would never go to because of how insane it is, yet here I am. And, of course, it’s going to be for a week. 

I was invited to Sam and Colby’s place to go over the specifics of the trip. I had just finished filming my latest movie, which was coincidentally being filmed in Las Vegas, so as soon as my scenes were wrapped up, I set off for their house.

By the time I got there, everyone else who was invited was already there. At least, I assumed with the number of cars in the driveway. I was still in stage make-up, but thankfully, I had changed into something more comfortable before I left the set. I grabbed my backpack before jumping out of my car, locking it, and walking up to the door, ringing the doorbell.

Almost immediately, the door is being opened, and I am face to face with Colby. After a beat of us just staring, speechless, at each other, I cleared my throat. I chuckled nervously before saying, “Hi, apologies for being late. Filming ran a little longer than I originally planned. I hope I didn’t hold you all up too long.”

“Nah, don’t even worry about it,” he dismissed quickly as he stepped aside and ushered me inside. “Come in, and I’ll show you where you can put your stuff. You’re staying and going with Sam, Seth, and me to Rhode Island, right?”

“If that’s still alright with you guys,” I replied, walking in step with Colby up the stairs. “I don’t want to impose on your personal spaces. I can go home, just say the word.”

“I would never kick you out,” he laughed, leading me down the hall and stopping just before the end. “Here is your room. There is a bathroom attached. It’s right next to the closet, and if you need anything, my room is right there.” He paused as he pointed to the room at the very end of the hall. “I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I’ll feel bad if it’s the middle of the night, but I will keep that in mind. Thank you,” I replied as I walked in to set my bag down on the vanity. “I’m just going to take my make-up off and meet you guys downstairs if that’s alright.”

“No problem,” he said, “We’ll be in the living room and we’ll either order food later or go out. We’ll see how everyone feels.”

“Ok, cool, thank you!” I said enthusiastically as he left down the hall. I closed the door over as I walked deeper into the room. I grabbed out my micellar water, cotton pads, and hydrater before walking into the ensuite to clean my face. As I set them on the counter, I noticed a piece of paper.

It was a printed screenshot of Twitter. A specific tweet from Colby in 2016 read, “Give me a chance y/n.” The back of the paper had its own handwritten note.

“You have been Colby’s celebrity crush for years. I know you posted a tweet in 2015 asking if he was single, and I don’t know if it was a joke or not. I didn’t show him the tweet, but I can say he’s single now if that tweet is still true. Please just get him to shut up. -Sam”

I chuckled at the note before quickly cleaning my face to head downstairs. Everyone was sitting on the couch or on the floor facing the TV. Everyone except Colby. I glanced around the room, trying to find him, only to see him standing in the kitchen. He was looking through the fridge, so I walked up behind him.

“Can you hand me a water?” I asked, startling him in the process. He jumped up straight, sucking in a quick breath as he snapped around to look at me. “Did I scare you or is that residual energy from the Conjuring House?”

“No, I just…” he trailed off for a second. “Yeah. I wasn’t expecting you down here just yet.”

“Kinda like how you didn’t expect me to see this?” I teased as I pulled the paper out from behind my back. Colby’s eyes grew wide as his jaw dropped. He stammered, trying to come up with a reason behind it, but he could not get a cohesive thought out. “Don’t worry. I’d give you a chance.”

Colby stopped entirely. I could see the gears turning in his mind before he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened his eyes, immediately meeting mine as he reached out to take the paper from my hands, setting it on the counter. He held my hands in his as he closed the distance between us. 

“Y/n, will you go out with me?” Colby whispered as he bit his lip in nervousness.

“Of course, I will,” I whispered back as a smile spread across both of our faces. 

“How about after this meeting we get out of here and do mini golf and dinner?” He offered, leaning his head down to rest our foreheads together.

“I will take you down,” I laughed as I leaned more into his body. “Truth be told, I’m great at mini golf.”

“Okay, lovebirds, we get it,” Sam interrupted from the living room. “We get it.”

“Shush, Sam,” I quipped back as I snapped my head to look at the group on the couch, still holding Colby’s hands. “You’re the one that left the note in my bathroom.”

“Wait, there’s a note?!” Colby shouted as he immediately let go of one of my hands to flip the paper over, reading through the note. “Sam, I told you this in confidence!”

~~~

Part 2 ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[moonstruckme]

hi!! first of all, i am a frequent reader(???) of your blog because your writing is immaculate and you seem so sweet and fun to talk to you, thank you so much for all the work that you do

second of all, i really hope your request are indeed open so that i am not spamming you🫶 in case they are closed, i am so very sorry and freely ignore this

I was wondering if i could request a little reader x either james or if the spark comes to do poly! i will NEVER say no to that lmao, where the reader seemingly out of nowhere starts feeling down, voicing that she doesn't think she's a good person? because she thought of all the friendships and extremely close people that left her and she just feels hurts and confused?

need some hurt/comfort rn, i know i am a little mean, and probably not the nicest person out there, but thinking of all the failed friendships/folks that i loved so dearly makes me feel like perhaps i am not a good person and that thought plagues me a bit ng

either way, thank you so much in advance, i hope you are well, getting to take care of yourself and have a lovely rest of day, evening of whenever you are reading this!

Thanks for requesting honey, love you <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James is talking to you about the movie he wants to go see, and if you were a better girlfriend—if you were better, period—you’d be listening, chipping in occasionally but mostly just letting him talk with the same adoring attentiveness he always gives you. But instead, you’re still stuck in the pub you’d left a few minutes ago, watching the surprise play over Sirius’ features. The flash of something you suspect might have been hurt in his cool gray eyes before he covered it up with skillful quickness. 

“And whatever I say, I can’t seem to lure the boys to another sci fi film,” James goes on, “so I’m afraid you might be conscripted for that one.” 

“Okay.” 

“Really?” The disbelief in James’ voice brings you back to attention. “I thought you’d have more qualms after that last one.”

You did swear to James that he’d never be dragging you to another of his nerd movies again. But maybe this is your opportunity to turn over a new leaf. “You want to see it, right?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Then we’ll go.” 

The two of you walk under a streetlight, giving you a clear view of your boyfriend’s skeptical expression. “You’re really alright with it? We can go see that new rom com instead, if you want.” 

See, this is the problem with being around James. He’s so, so good. It makes you seem even worse in contrast. And he makes it impossible to be selfless, because he always has to be the most giving person in any situation. It makes you want to cry from both love and frustration. 

“Let’s just go to the one you want to see,” you say, and despite your best intentions the words come out with a slight edge. 

“Alright,” he says slowly. Now you can feel his eyes on you, your own gaze vaguely ahead as you keep pace alongside him on the sidewalk. You live in a more shadowy part of town, but the clouds obscuring the moon make the darkness complete. James’ voice is tentative. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You chew your bottom lip. “Do you think I upset Sirius earlier?”

“You mean that joke you made?” It doesn’t help your anxiety that he knows exactly what you mean. No chance it flew completely under everyone else’s radar, then. “No, he was fine.” 

“You don’t think he looked…I don’t know, shocked? Like his feelings were hurt?” 

James’ gaze burns into the side of your head, but you won’t look at him. “No, angel. I think your sense of humor can be a little…” he fumbles for the right word, and a worm of unease writhes in your gut “...brash, sometimes, but Sirius is made for that stuff. The last person you’re going to offend with that is him. He gets it.” 

You sigh and nod, doing your best to convince yourself he’s telling the truth. 

“Hey.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I can hear you thinking.” 

“I just don’t really know if I’m a good person.” 

Your voice is quiet, but you know James hears you perfectly. His steps actually fumble for a second, like he might stop in his tracks. 

“Of course you are,” he says. “I mean—listen, of course I would lie to you even if you weren’t, though I guess we probably wouldn’t be together if I thought you were a bad person, but—anyway, you are. You are a good person.” 

You force a laugh, ignoring how your throat contracts around it. “Sorry. I know you’d lie to make me feel better, Jamie. You’re too nice.” 

“I would,” James acknowledges, following as you go up the front steps to your apartment and dig around in your bag for your key. “But I’m not right now.” He ducks his head as you twist your key in the lock, jockeying for a view of your face. “Sweetheart, why would you think that?” 

“I don’t know,” you mumble as you step inside. You set your keys down on the table by the door and knead at your chest, but it does nothing to relieve the hollow ache forming there. 

“Yeah you do,” James says softly, hot on your tail. “I know you, you don’t just say these things. Come on.” He takes your shoulders in his hands, trapping you, and you drop your gaze to avoid meeting his eyes. (You know how that goes. They make you feel all soft and melty and get you to talk and talk and talk.) “I can’t be fully honest with you if you’re not honest with me,” he says. 

“I just know—I know I can be really mean sometimes.” Your voice cracks on mean, and James tightens his grip on you, holding you together while you crumble. The pressure in your throat is hot and thick, but it feels so good to cry. Like your outsides finally match your insides. “I want to be better but I don’t know how.” 

“Sweetheart.” James’ voice sounds like heartbreak. His hands slide from your shoulders, wrapping around your upper back and squeezing painfully. “Darling, you don’t need to be better. Or, not more than anyone else. You’re already a good person.”

You make a miserable choked sound, frustrated with him for only telling you what you want to hear and frustrated with yourself for not knowing better.

“You are,” he says, half desperate. “Know how I know?”

You take your face from his shoulder, eyeing guiltily the glossy wetness of your tears and snot on his jumper. James takes your face in a big hand, finally succeeding in angling it towards him. 

He’s giving you a little smile despite his own watery eyes and the deep crinkle between his brows. He takes your look as enough prompting to go on. 

“Because bad people don’t worry about if they’re good people, angel.” The words are emphatic, beseeching. Begging you to understand. “They don’t try to do the right thing. You being worried about Sirius is just proof that you care. Do you think a bad person would get themselves so worked up” —he thumbs at the wet skin underneath your eye, smiling thinly— “over whether they’re being too mean? That just doesn’t happen, love.” 

You swallow thickly, letting James press a solid kiss to your temple. He holds your face between his hands like you’re something special. Something worth having. 

“I wouldn’t be with someone who was always being actually mean to my friends,” he tells you, voice dropping into a lower register. You know he’s being sincere. James would never let anything happen to Sirius or Remus, certainly not by someone he’d brought into their orbit. “But we all know you don’t mean anything cruel by the things you say. It can be a little…” 

“Brash?” you supply, and James smiles. 

“Yeah,” he admits, “sometimes. Anyone who knows you doesn’t take it personally, though. You’re kind in your own way, it’s just not always what people are used to.” James tilts his head, assessing your expression and giving you full view of the earnestness in his in turn. “You’re a good person, sweetheart. And please don’t worry about being that kind of mean to Sirius, alright? He can take it.”

[starkwlkr]

Can I request Ruby getting her period for the first time and her mom's not at home so Charles has to take care of her? If you're comfortable writing it ofc

we’re all girls here | charles leclerc

I know not everyone woman has the same period story (this is a safe blog and if someone starts judging about PERIODS I WILL COME AFTER YOU)

also i changed it up a little because surprisingly i had another story like this in my drafts before it was requested 😭

Y/n decided that a trip to her home country would do her some good. She hadn’t been back home in a while so she missed everything about it from her family to the delicious food. She missed home. Charles knew how much she wanted to have a vacation so he bought plane tickets just for her so she could have a stress and kid free vacation back home. She loves her kids to death, but it seemed like everything she sat on the sofa to take a break, one kid always yelled for her and with Charles gone, she just had to get up.

There was a month break from the season so Charles was home with his son and daughter. Arthur and Lorenzo were coming over soon. Ruby mostly spent her time in her room reading or watching some movie. But not this time. She was on a FaceTime call with her friend, Cassie, who was talking about the latest rumor in school.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this but Elliot West has a crush on you. I heard Elizabeth from Art class say that. But don’t tell anyone!”

“Elliot? I thought he had a crush on you?” Ruby asked, letting out a low groan as her stomach began to hurt. All day she had been feeling sick, but she didn’t tell Charles.

“No, he likes you. His friend likes me. I think.” Cassie said.

Suddenly Ruby got a sharp pain. She never experienced it before so instantly her mind started thinking of the worst possible ideas.

“Are you okay?” Cassie asked over the phone.

“I don’t know. Bye, I have to call my mom.” Ruby ended the call before Cassie could even say bye. She quickly called her mom, but right when she needed Y/n the most, she wasn’t home. Immediately the call went to voicemail no matter how many times Ruby called. Ruby threw her phone to the ground in frustration and got up from her bed.

She paced around the room, holding her stomach in pain. She didn’t have a fever or felt like throwing up so she was extremely confused on why she had stomach pains.

Since Ruby’s door was opened, Mathéo peeked inside just to ask why she was pacing.

“Get out! You’re so annoying! Dad!” Ruby yelled, pushing her brother out the door and slamming it shut.

“Hey! Don’t slam the door! Be nice to each other!” Charles yelled back from his spot on the sofa. His brothers had arrived and now they were watching a movie on the tv.

“You’re such a dad.” Arthur laughed.

“Just wait until you have kids.” Charles teased.

Mathéo strolled into the living room with his toy car in his hand. He look unfazed by his sister’s actions. “Ruby is being weird.” He told his papa and uncles. He walked to his uncle Arthur and hopped onto his lap.

“Why’s that, Théo?” Charles asked.

“She looks like she’s in pain and I asked why she was going in circles and she kicked me out then she slammed the door.” Mathéo explained.

“Is she sick?” Lorenzo asked Charles.

“No, she didn’t mention anything. I’ll be back.” Charles said as he got up and walked to Ruby’s room. He knocked on the door several times, but got no answer so he opened the door and saw clothes scattered all over her bedroom door.

“Papa?” Charles heard Ruby call out from her bathroom.

“Baby, what did you do to your room?” Charles walked to the bathroom door. “Théo said you were in pain. What’s hurting, Ruby Jules?”

“My stomach. But . . . Papa? There’s blood on my pants.” Charles instantly knew what she meant by that. Sure, he didn’t have any sisters, but he did have girl cousins and a wife that went through it each month. (Unless she was pregnant, which she was glad she didn’t have to buy pads during that time)

“Okay, um . . I- shit. Okay, don’t panic. You’re okay, baby, everything’s fine. I’ll be right back.” Charles didn’t think his baby girl would get her first period when Y/n wasn’t present. He wasn’t exactly prepared for the moment. He left Ruby’s room in a hurry. He needed to call the only person who knew about periods that was still in Monaco.

“Is she okay? Is she dying?” Mathéo asked, still on Arthur’s lap.

“No one is dying! No!” Charles frantically looked for his phone all over the sofa. “Where is my phone?!” Mathéo pointed at the cracked phone on the coffee table. “Thank you, Théo.”

The three Leclercs watched as Charles looked like he was about to pass out. Was Ruby actually sick? They needed to know.

“Maman! You need to come over right now. Please, Ruby needs you. No, she’s okay, but Y/n isn’t here and I don’t know how to explain to her that she’s going to bleed every month without freaking her out.”

Lorenzo and Arthur both understood now. Ruby Leclerc had gotten her first period.

“Ruby is bleeding? Is she dying?!” Théo asked his uncle.

“No! Your sister isn’t dying!”

After what seemed like forever, Pascale had arrived to her son’s house. Charles led her to the bathroom Ruby was in. Unknown to them both, the other three Leclerc boys followed them.

Pascale lightly knocked on the door. “Ruby, amour, it’s grand-mère.”

“Hi.” She heard Ruby say in a whisper like tone.

“Your maman isn’t here to teach you about what’s going on, but I’m here. Can you let me in?” Pascale asked.

“But . . .”

“Amour, we’re all girls here. I promise you this isn’t something to be embarrassed about.” Pascale assured the girl.

Suddenly Mathéo laughed. He looked up at his two uncles and pointed at them. “Grand-mère called you girls!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “She said all of us so that means you too.”

Mathéo stopped laughing. “This isn’t funny.”

Pascale sighed. “Ruby darling, unlock the door. You and I have to talk.”

“Can they leave first?” Ruby asked. She referred to all the men in her room.

Charles understood that his daughter felt more comfortable with his mother at the moment so he took Mathéo in his arms and left along with Lorenzo and Arthur.

While Pascale was busy teaching Ruby about periods, Charles was able to talk with Y/n. He caught her up on everything.

“You do know where the pads are, right?” Y/n asked.

“Can’t she use yours?”

“I forgot to stock up before I left. I didn’t think she would start early.” Replied the worried mother.

“Okay, no problem. I know which ones you get so I just need to go to the store. Should I get chocolate? Where do you keep your heating pad?”

It was safe to say that whenever Ruby would start her period and her mother wasn’t around, she was in safe hands with Charles. He was always a sweetheart whenever Y/n was on hers, bringing her all her snacks and letting her stay in bed. Ruby had nothing to worry about.

[shegatsby]

Okay I just had an amazing idea! Imagine reader as Hannibals patient and both of them meeting in an online portal similar to tattle crime where you can chat privately, they start talki g and develop like a relationship but for the sake of their identities they keep their real names out of the chat when one day the reader texts hannibal that they're at the psychiatrists office with a picture of the floor attatched, Hannibal obviously realizes its the floor of the waiting room, during the session he acts like nothing happened but at the end of their session hannibal adresses the reader by their username. The rest is up to you!

A/N: Hi, thank you for this request I really loved the idea. I changed it a bit because we all know that Hannibal would never leave anything to chance, of course he is gonna stalk you babe ;)

Warnings: Stalking.

Words: 1.442K

It was late in the evening, Baltimore’s  cold weather made you stay under your fuzzy blankets with a hot cup of tea. Your laptop on your lap, you logged onto your account in Tattle Crime. It was a blog about your city’s newest crimes, recently you have been on that blog a lot, there was a serial killer on the loose, people were wither sharing info or commenting about the gruesome  murders. Everyone was talking about the ‘’Chesapeake Ripper’’ you’ve always been interested in serial killer’s mindsets so Tattle Crime was a useful blog on that to feed your curiosity, how you were oblivious to what’s to come…

You read some articles which compares the Chesapeake Ripper to other serial killers and you left a comment under it, saying that comparing is false, because he is something we have never seen before etc. It was your honest opinion, his killings and presentation of the bodies were more meticulously sophisticated. You referred to the killer as ‘’him’’ due to the fact that most serial killers were male.

You opened a new tab and surfed on the internet, you were watching your favorite old Hollywood movie when you had a notification from Tattle Crime. The blog had dm box so that users could communicate which you never used before but someone sent you a text. The user didn’t have their name, their handle was ‘’Botticeli’’ the last name of the famous painter, Sandor Botticelli, your handle was ‘’Hekate’’ the witch goddess. You didn’t like putting your real name out there and appearently so did the person who messaged you.

‘’I am interested in your thoughts regarding the Chesapeake Ripper, I would love to hear more if that is convenient for you.’’

It was strange but you loved to chat about your favorite topics, since you weren’t busy you decided to text back.

‘’Hello, of course. I would love to chat about him, he is such an enigma.’’ You sent and waited, for some reason your hands went cold, you had a strange sensation in your stomach.

You had messaged a stranger online for 4 hours, the conversation was vibrant and it was obvious that the guy you were texting was knowledgeable, you learned that he was a 40 year old man, living in Baltimore, you told him your age, you were at university, you and him respected each others’ private life so not much info were exchanged other than nice conversation about art, literature and murder. Later you said your good nights and you turned off your laptop and went to bed straight, you had morning classes.

It was snowing, you had dark circles under your eyes but you made effort in your appearance, you wore a nice winter dress with long boots, hair tied and a light make up to cover the tiredness. In the mean time Doctor Hannibal Lecter was on his office, getting ready for his patient. He was facing his laptop’s screen, on the screen he had information you, thanks to his work with the FBI he had privileged access to get peoples info. He learned your address, university, your Instagram, everything. He decided to message you again.

You were at the cafeteria, eating and looking at your notes when you got a notification, the stranger you had a nice conversation with last night messaged you again. ‘’I apologies for keeping you up so late last night, I hope you had some sleep, good morning.’’

You couldn’t help but smile, he was formal yet you could sense some kind of kindness and concern.

‘’Hey, no need to apologies. I enjoyed our conversation last night. Morning!’’

For days you messaged back and forth, everyday without being to open, he told you his day, and you told him about your day, over the days you learned his habits, he was an early bird, loved to read and keep his mind busy, he also mentioned the dinner parties he throws every once in a while. You were intrigued, but kept your cool.

After a month you were having mental problems, your assignments were too much and you had some problems from your past, ever since you mentioned your problems he was being more kinder than usual, he was giving you affirmations such as;

‘’You are a smart girl, you can do it.’’

‘’I believe in your abilities.’’

You liked the way he talked to you. Neither of you asked for a phone number or even an email address which felt safe.

One day he suggested that you should see a psychiatrist, since he had access to your university he could see your grades and they were dropping and he didn’t like that. He wanted you to succeed.

He sent you a list of psychiatrists and made some recommendations, you were falling into his trap and he was enjoying it, he wanted to see you and this was the opportunity. You said you would think about it and in order to give you some time he said it was okay.

When you had a melt down while studying you decided to think about Botticelli’s list of psychiatrist and you sent a mail to the Doctor writing that you needed an urgent session, thankfully Doctor Lecter replied quickly, you were too busy to notice how odd it was to reply to you in a minute. He wrote that tomorrow at 6 would be convenient for him, it was convenient for you too because your classes end at 5 pm. Of course he knew that and you would be his last patient of the day.

After your classes you got on the bus and went to the Doctor’s office. You clung to your long coat and walked into the building, the warmth welcomed you, there was a desk but no secretary was in the view, you knocked on the grey door and waited, your heart beating at a rapid speed.

A tall man opened the door, his three piece suit made him look intimidating, he was standing proud and tall.

‘’Miss Y/L/N I presume?’’ he questioned, his maroon eyes scanning you, he was really good at hiding his excitement, there you were, the woman he had been messaging over a month was standing right before him. ‘’Dr. Lecter, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’’ You extended your hand and he gladly took it, he noticed how soft your hands were, there was a certain feeling in his chest, ‘’Please come in.’’

His office was grand, the fire place was lit which gave the room a cozy feeling and yet it resembled the museum, formal. You sat on the leather armchair and he sat opposite with his leather notebook and silver pen. He started the conversation, as he was speaking he made notes of her manners and behavior, you had a simple jeans and a black top, even though your outfit was normal Hannibal found you elegant like a swan.

During your session you had a feeling as if you have met him before, he was kind but his voice and his demeanor made you think before you speak, thankfully he made you comfortable by talking art and literature, his replies sounded familiar, you thought as if you were talking to your new online friend.

‘’Dr. Lecter, I must say I’m here because one of my friends recommended you to me.’’ You confessed, ‘’Oh, did your friend ever came to me before for a session?’’ he asked looking curious as if he wasn’t about to reveal himself to you.

‘’No, I mean I’m not sure, he is an online friend so..’’ you replied shortly, looking around.

‘’Oh really, Hekate?’’

You froze, did he just addressed you by your username on Tattle Crime?

‘’I-I’m sorry..?’’ you stuttered, you must have heard it wrong.

He placed the notebook and pen on the nearby table and stood up, fixing his clothes he came up to you, you had to look up, he extended his hand to you, ‘’Botticelli,’’ he said, ‘’Nice to finally meet you in person, I must say, I didn’t expect such a beauty, your intellect matches your divine face.’’

Your first reaction was to get up and run to the door, it was locked.

You turned to face him, his hands in his pockets, he was smiling ear to ear, ‘’You wound me Hekate, I thought you liked me.’’ he started to walk to you, your back pressed to the locked door, he stood before you, one of his hands found your heated cheek, with the back of his hand he caressed it gently, ‘’Do not be afraid, all I want is for you to be mine.’’