#the way she can explain a feeling so insane is amazing
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fireya-x · 3 days ago
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hey! i just wanted to say that i love your writing. you have the most amazing style and idk if youre accepting asks rn but pls ignore if not.
would you ever consider writing a fic about john price/reader where reader is like sick for a couple days or maybe gone for a while and hes been totally deprived and all when you finally are feeling better/home, then he just absolutely loses all of his gentlemanly ways and jumps you the moment he can get it again??
maybe a little inspired by this gif -- https://www.tumblr.com/posseydonn/765988062279909376/lets-not-sleep-without-making-love?source=share
Thank you! That means so much 🥰
And of course! I was so excited when I saw this. You're the first to request, and it made me so happy. I hope this is okay, and again, thanks so much for the ask!
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coming home
AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist
John Price x Reader
Three weeks apart is three weeks too long for John.
[3,5k words]
cw: smut, piv sex, oral sex, cunnilingus, blow job, come swallowing, smoking
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You entered the meeting room, a soft “Sorry I’m late” escaping your lips, breathless as your eyes met Kate’s. She smiled, and the room, thankfully, seemed less concerned with your tardiness and more captivated by your return.
“There she is!” Gaz called out, a grin splitting his face.
“Don’t worry about it.” Kate said at the same time and gestured for you to sit down.
“Lassie! Good to see ye again!” Soap exclaimed, a gentle slap on your shoulder accompanying his greeting as you sat beside him.
Ghost’s masked face gave nothing away, but you could have sworn you saw a slight nod in your direction when your eyes met. Several other soldiers offered their greetings, but your attention was drawn to the man standing next to Kate. Their voices, addressing the room, held the familiar cadence of teachers instructing a class. His features, however, softened noticeably the moment you entered, and you suspected the newer recruits could thank you for the subtle shift in John's demeanour. Tasks were assigned and mission preparations discussed, a mission you’d been desperately wanted to be back in the field for.
You'd been confined to your home for the past three weeks, battling a nasty flu. Fever, headaches, an upset stomach – the whole miserable package. You'd warned everyone to steer clear, not wanting to share the misery. John, though you suspected he wanted to argue, had obeyed. You knew he was itching to fuss over you, to bring you tea and take your temperature like he’d done countless times before. But his care manifested in other ways. Canned soup and chocolate – clearly a Price-approved selection – appeared mysteriously on your doorstep. A week's worth of groceries materialized thanks to Soap and Ghost. And Gaz's mum, bless her, managed to stock your medicine cabinet better than a pharmacy.
As the meeting for the day was concluded and everyone slowly left the room, Price stopped you in your tracks with a raised hand. “Stay behind a moment, love.”
When the room was empty, he closed the distance between you, his hands settling on your shoulders. “Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up.” 
You shuffled your feet, avoiding his gaze, suddenly shy under his intense scrutiny. “Doctor cleared me, and I came straight here,” you explained, gesturing vaguely towards the front of the room, where he had been standing moments ago. “Didn’t want to bother you. You were clearly busy.”
“Never a bother,” he murmured, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. “Next time, call me. Okay?”
You leaned into his touch, a wave of relief washing over you. The simple contact made you acutely aware of how much you’d missed him. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a small smile playing on your lips as you met his gaze. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that sent a wave of comforting warmth through you.
“It’s good to have you back.” He exhaled heavily, tension easing from his shoulders. “The boys were driving me insane.”
You chuckled. “You love them.”
 “I do. Not as much as you, though.”
You rolled your eyes at the cheesy line, but a warmth bloomed in your chest. He lifted your chin with a gentle finger. “Promise me if you’re not feeling well, you won’t play tough and tell me immediately, yeah?”
“I will. I promise.”
“Good.”
“Gotta go train the new kids, I suppose,” you sighed theatrically.
“I don’t envy you.” He grimaced.
“I’ll have to put my Price voice on.” You grinned, anticipating his reaction.
He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Price voice?”
You cleared your throat, mimicking his gruff tone. “You muppets! Twenty pushups, now!”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “I do not sound like that.”
“You wish you’d sound as sweet as I do.” You winked, and he chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist as you walked together down the corridor. He paused at his office door, leaning in for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yes, Captain.” You smiled, saluting playfully, which earned you another eye roll as he disappeared inside.
The day wore on, the relentless rain and wind a constant, chilling presence on the training grounds. You watched the new recruits struggle through the obstacle course, their movements hampered by the slick mud and the biting wind. You, at least, had the small comforts of proper gear. These poor souls, battling the weather in addition to the gruelling physical demands – it brought back memories of your own training. The endless drills, Price’s watchful gaze, his voice a constant bark of commands, pushing you, testing your limits. No trace of the tenderness he showed you now. Back then, it had been all business, grit, and determination.
But it earned you a place on the 141, and you didn't regret a single moment.
As the last recruit, mud-caked and drenched, stumbled across the finish line, you offered a nod of acknowledgement. “Passable time, soldier,” you stated, pointing towards the last stretch of obstacles, “but that last part needs to be faster. Work on your agility in these conditions. Life or death out in the field.” The recruit saluted, exhaustion etched on their pale face, before joining the rest of the group.
Dismissing them with a sweep of your hand, you advised, “Get yourselves dried off and warmed up.” You could practically feel the welcome relief of hot showers and a decent meal yourself as you watched them disperse, shivering. Heading for the nearest entrance, you discarded your heavy weather gear with a sigh of relief.
A voice called out, “Sergeant?” Turning, you recognized the young recruit from the cafeteria, his waterproof jacket plastered to his thin frame as he hurried towards you. He pointed a finger down the hall. “Captain Price wants to talk to you.”
Your heart quickened, a nervous flutter in your stomach. Smoothing down your damp uniform and clutching the training reports, you made your way toward Price’s office, that nervous flutter intensifying with each step. You knocked lightly, the sound muffled by the heavy door.
“You wanted to talk to me?” you began, pushing it open. “Oh, I already have the reports here –”
“Lock the door.” Price’s command cut you short, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. A freshly lit cigar was clenched between his teeth, a plume of smoke curling upwards.
Your breath hitched, momentarily stunned by his command. The facade of your professionalism crumbled under the weight of his gaze. “What?”
His eyes bored into you. He jerked his chin towards the door, the unspoken command crystal clear. “Do it, and get over here.” A blush warmed your cheeks as you obeyed, the click of the lock echoing in the sudden silence.
You crossed the room, dropping the reports on his desk as you rounded it, coming to a stop before him. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist, pulling you towards him with a force that made you gasp. The movement was almost violent, and he didn’t even waste a breath before your training briefs were bunching around your ankles as he shoved them down. His touch was rough, brutal and yet undeniably possessive.
The heat of him against your sudden bare skin was like an electric shock, making the hairs on your skin stand up, igniting a fire that had been smouldering for past weeks. His mouth was suddenly between your thighs, biting your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your panties, eliciting a moan from your lips. 
“Christ, John, what –” you breathed, the words lost against another nip of his teeth. He forced his tongue against the damp fabric and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your backside as he growled against your skin. “Fuck, I've missed you.”
“We’re at work,” you protested weakly, even as your hands found their way into his hair, desperate for something to hold on to.
He pulled back slightly and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Has that ever stopped us before?”
You shook your head, a breathless laugh escaping you. “I guess not.”
With a quick, almost savage tear, your panties were gone. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver. He murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky, “I’m not going to fire you for fucking your boss, sweetheart.” A trail of scorching kisses followed his words, his lips branding your inner thighs.
“Very funny,” you chuckled, hands finding their way back into his hair, and without a warning, his tongue parted your folds. The contact with your clit was an unexpected intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. He pushed you back against the desk, your legs parting instinctively as his fingers joined the fray. He lapped at your slickness, his tongue swirling and circling, his beard scratching the skin, while his fingers teased the entrance of your hole. 
He devoured you, his hunger insatiable, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to bring you to the brink. You could feel the pressure building, coiling tight in your belly, the pleasure intensifying with each lick, each touch, each stolen breath. “John,” you gasped, and he groaned in response, the sound thick with desire, but then, his own need overriding yours, he pulled back abruptly. The sight, the taste, the feel of you was too much. He needed to be inside you. With a low growl, he lifted you onto the cool surface of the desk, scattering the forgotten reports beneath you like fallen leaves.
“Shouldn’t you be looking at those reports?” you managed, a weak attempt at humour.
He shook his head, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips. “The only thing I should be doing is you.”
As he moved above you, your gaze traced the familiar lines of his body. The faint, silvery scars that crisscrossed his skin, a roadmap of his life, each one an etched memory of battles fought and won. The dark hair dusting his chest and narrowing down to the meticulously trimmed line of his pubic hair – a detail that sent a wave of heat through you, the knowledge that he’d been ready for you, waiting for this moment, just as you had been. 
His cock, thick and veined, throbbed before you. The tip, a darker shade of pink, almost crimson with arousal, glistened in the dim light of the office, the precum already beading there like glistening dew. The velvety texture, the subtle ridges and curves of its form – it was a thing of beauty, of raw power. And it belonged to him, to the man who made you feel things no one else could. Safe. Cherished. Desired.
It had been weeks – an eternity – since you’d felt this way. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark and intense, focused solely on you, made you feel seen, loved, like you were the only person in the world.
The initial slow burn of his entry ignited a fire within you, a slow, steady warmth that spread through your body. As he settled fully inside you, a sigh escaped your lips. It was a feeling of homecoming, of finally returning from a long and arduous journey, of finding your way back to the place where you belonged. It was more than just pleasure; it was a sense of rightness, of two halves becoming whole. You revelled in the feeling of fullness, of completion, of finally having him back where he belonged. 
You could feel every inch of him, the subtle ridges and curves of his length pressing against your inner walls, the velvety head brushing against your most sensitive point, sending shivers of anticipation radiating outwards. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss, and the taste of him, of cigar smoke and desire and longing, filled your senses. 
As the kiss deepened, his rhythm intensified, the slow burn giving way to a wildfire. The languid thrusts became more insistent, more demanding. The rhythmic slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet office, punctuated by the creak of the desk beneath you. His mouth moved to nip and suck at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your already sensitized nerves. His touch was a brand that marked you as his, a delicious reminder of his possession. His fingers found your clit, rubbing, circling, adding yet another layer of exquisite torture to the inferno already burning within you. 
The pressure built, the pleasure intensifying with each thrust, each touch, each stolen breath. And then, it hit you – an explosion of pure, unadulterated bliss, a blinding white light that obliterated all thought. You threw your arms around his back, your nails digging into his skin. Your body convulsed, pressing against him, clamping down on his cock as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last. He held you steady, his strong arms a comforting anchor and his voice a low murmur against your ear. “That's my girl,” he whispered, the words a balm to your soul as the tremors subsided, leaving you spent and sated in his embrace. 
Still pleasure-drunk, your mind hazy with the afterglow of your climax, you pushed him off you and breaking the connection. He stumbled back, a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but he didn’t intervene, his gaze following your every move as you slid off the desk. He let himself be pushed back into his chair, his chest heaving, his cock still slick and hard.
Reaching for the earlier discarded cigar in the ashtray, you brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply, the familiar taste making your head spin. As you exhaled, your gaze locked with his, a predatory glint in your eyes. With slow, deliberate movements, you began to play with the cigar, rolling it between your fingers, letting it linger at the corner of your mouth, dragging it across your lips as if savouring the taste, the tip tracing the same path his tongue had taken only moments before. The act, a shameless innuendo, was a way of reclaiming your power, of teasing him, of showing him that you weren't done with him yet. You ran your tongue along the length of it, the tip glistening in the dim light of the office.
He watched, transfixed, his breath hitching in his throat, every muscle in his body coiled tight with a tension that bordered on painful. You were putting on a show, a performance designed solely for him, and it was driving him absolutely insane. The way you practically fucked the cigar, deep throating it with a practised ease that made his blood run hot, was both absurd and incredibly erotic. 
His gaze was riveted on your lips, the way they stretched and pulsed around the cigar, the tip disappearing into the depths of your mouth, then reappearing, slick and glistening. Your tongue, darting out to lick the tip, to swirl around the base, made him growl involuntarily. 
Your cheeks hollowed with each deep drag, the sight making his own breath come in short, ragged gasps. It was blatant, mimicking a far more intimate act, a performance designed to tease and torment, and it was working perfectly. He could practically feel your mouth on him, the heat, the pressure, the rhythmic pull – it had been weeks of forced abstinence, and he knew that no one else could make him feel this way; this desperate, this utterly and completely out of control.
His cock, still red and swollen, throbbed and twitched in agonizing response and the pre-come slowly leaked onto his skin. His balls ached with a desperate need for release, a pressure that built with each drag you took on the cigar, each moan that escaped your lips, each flick of your tongue. The need to touch himself, to find some small measure of relief, was almost overwhelming. 
Not being able to bear it any longer, his hand instinctively moved towards his aching hardness, but you stopped him, your fingers gently but firmly closing around his wrist. 
“Not yet, Captain,” you purred, your voice husky with amusement. You held his gaze, your eyes sparkling with mischief, and brought the cigar back to your lips, taking one last, long drag. Letting he smoke fill your lungs before you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. You exhaled slowly, deliberately, the plume of smoke swirling into his mouth, teasing his tongue with the lingering taste of the tobacco, the heat of your breath, and the promise of more. 
He groaned, a low rumble in his chest, and his tongue darted out, attacking your mouth, desperate to taste you, to reclaim the connection that had been broken only moments before. The kiss was fierce, hungry, his tongue probing deep, seeking out yours, tangling with it in a desperate dance of need. He wanted you, all of you, right there, right then, but you pulled back, a teasing smile playing on your lips. With a slow, deliberate movement, you placed the cigar between his lips. 
Then, trailing a line of kisses down his chest, across the hard planes of his stomach, each touch sending shivers through his already aroused body, you reached your destination. He groaned, his hands finding their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as you knelt before him, his hardness pressing against your cheek. 
You took him in your mouth, the taste of him – salty and musky – mingling with the lingering flavour of the cigar and the faint, sweet taste of yourself. You swirled your tongue around him, appreciating the feel of him against your lips, the heat of him radiating against your skin. You sucked hard, the pull creating a friction that made him groan, his hips bucking involuntarily against your mouth. You bobbed your head, setting a slow, steady rhythm, your eyes never leaving his, watching as his expression shifted from desire to pure pleasure. You increased the pressure, the pace, drawing him deeper into your mouth, feeling the throb of his pulse against your tongue and the way his cock pulsed and twitched with each pull of your lips.
You ran your tongue along the underside of his length, before playing a soft kiss to the tip, teasing him, driving him closer to the edge. He groaned again, the sound barely audible, a strangled whimper of pleasure lost somewhere between a sob and a curse.
You continued, relentless, taking him fully into your mouth again with a passion fuelled by the weeks of pent-up longing. You felt him tense, the muscles in his thighs clenching as he reached his peak. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and a shudder ran through his entire body. His grip on your hair tightened, his knuckles white against your scalp. “Fuck… yes,” he groaned, the words barely audible. “So good... love... bloody hell…” 
His voice trailed off into a series of incoherent moans and gasps as he spilled into your mouth, the hot rush of his release coating your throat. You moaned when the taste hit you, salty and musky, and so intoxicatingly him. You could feel the heat, the force of it, as he emptied himself into you – the rhythmic contractions of his cock, the feeling of him throbbing within your mouth, how the ridge of his length pulsated against your tongue with each spurt – it sent shivers down your spine. You continued to suckle gently, even after the initial rush subsided, your tongue swirling around him, cleaning him, wanting to draw every last drop of him, to cherish the intimacy of the moment, to prolong the connection for as long as possible. With a final, loving kiss against the tip, you pulled back, leaving him breathless.
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still dark with desire, but now softened with a tenderness reserved only for you. He reached down, his hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face up to his. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch feather-light. “I missed you,” he murmured. “I was worried sick. So glad you’re alright.” 
You smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “Couldn't even wait until we got home?” You teased, still settled between his thighs, reaching up to run a finger along his jawline, feeling the familiar prickle of his beard. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “No chance, love. Not a bloody chance.” You leaned forward, resting your head against the hard muscles of his thigh, your fingertips dancing lightly along his skin. “Want to grab some dinner and stay with me tonight?” you asked, almost hesitant. 
He met your gaze, a warmth spreading through his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. He reached forward then, lifting you up into his lap effortlessly. "Like you even have to ask," he murmured, his hands gently caressing your back, drawing soft circles. 
“Let's go then?” he asked softly after a while. 
You sighed, closing your eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over you. “Just a minute.” He didn't reply, but his arms tightened around you, holding you close, and in that silent embrace, you found everything you had been missing in the last weeks: the comfort of his presence, the security of his touch, the certainty of his love. You were home.
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fire-lord-katara · 1 year ago
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She's just like me fr fr
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astrxealis · 6 months ago
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sorry to ffxivlovepost always anyway Man the way the devs & game did so good in making an mc that is Basically a blank-slate for the players, and there's so many opportunities to make your oc However you like but. the game itself adds so much story and character to that blank-slate guy. amazing
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა ffxiv ໒꒱ *·˚#i think abt this a lot. and also a lot of other ffxiv stuff LMFAO#it's amazing ..... drk is a huge example of this i think#bcs it plays into the guilt and whatnot the wol feels and all that. spectacular#endwalker !!!!! shadowbringers!!! the way the game uses the concept of hope is just always so beautiful and fascinating to me#and yeah bunch of games may have like. mc you create & design but not always can you like. ehvejfhsjf idk how to explain LOL#it is 4 pm i woke up 2 hours ago but priorly woke at 7 am after havingn a rlly. weird sleep.#to which my twin told me 'i wont tell u what time it is' as we went to sleep so it def was Really late#bcs we were going thru re2 and she was also playing games on steam i've been telling her to play#(to which i got her fav characters right and knew fr how'd she'd like the game LMFAO. twins amiright.)#actually that is also smth so fascinating to me bcs. i always have had someone w me in my life. i am literally never alone.#to which what i'm getting at here is Wow... it's like having a sleepover every single day. and i was a kid always sad never to have#sleepovers bcs my parents were strict (they r cool tho!) but i was a kid who wanted to experience all the kid things#but i didn't rlly but that's fine :P i am a grateful person LOL anyway back on track back on black#ffxiv... the game that u are.....#it's the 1st game that rlly actually made me invested in the ocs of others and also make a fully fledged oc that wasn't just originally mine#but for a fandom or something. and also it got me back into writing and Into making poetry and prose so. yeah.#it's amazing how much. oc x canon ???? yeah. ffxiv is so Wow#like eveyrhhting w themis or graha and how u can AAGGGHHH shit w your oc . so many possibilities#and that character. those possibilities. are already in game but also expanded by the player and the fanbade and#idk it's so beautiful to me WHAGHSGDJDH. and yes me saying themis or graha up there is self-indukgent bcs#both of them are so Insane it's so. insane!!!!! i will never forget what happened in abyssos in particular that Broke me#and anabaseios... :)) i cried so much it is almost embarrassing. and wow. asphodelos. wverything w themis just. yeah#anyway graha... self-explanatory if u know..... idk he's the character of all time to me. simply said. but themis is crazy bcs going thru ab#yssos made me think for a bit 'hey themis might be my fav character in ffxiv now' but No but also Wow. wow#kinda cute bcs me and my twin have a thing where she has a certain type of chara she likes and me too#so sometimes. most times. all times. we have our own characters we like anyway but sometimes they overlap but either the case we kinda#lowkey 'segregate???' idk if that is a good word but we do that w our fav characters. so like emet is her fav elidibus is mine.#and that was all the way in arrr alr and we barely knew spoilers so that's kinda crazy! anyway
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roseghoul26 · 6 months ago
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Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.
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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader
Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!
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If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.
But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 
It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 
Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 
In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 
Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 
A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 
“The fuck you doin’?” 
“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 
He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 
You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 
“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 
Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 
There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 
Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”
You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”
You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.
The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 
In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 
Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 
Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 
You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 
The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 
Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 
It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 
He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”
You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.
You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 
“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 
“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 
Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 
It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 
Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 
It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”
You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”
He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.
“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 
“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”
See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 
You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 
And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.
“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.
“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 
“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 
He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”
It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke
“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”
You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 
“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.
He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 
Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 
It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 
Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 
Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 
He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”
“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”
“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 
“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”
“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”
“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”
“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 
“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”
“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”
“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”
“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”
His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”
“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”
There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”
The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”
He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 
“You don’t have to-”
“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 
“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 
He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 
Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”
“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”
You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”
“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”
“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  
He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.
“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.
“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”
“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”
“That’s two questions.”
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”
“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”
“Do you regret it?”
“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.
“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 
“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”
It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 
You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”
“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 
His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”
Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”
“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”
If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”
“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”
“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 
“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 
You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”
When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 
“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.
“So no sex then?”
Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.
“So you’ve never-”
“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.
“Not even after you left?”
“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 
“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”
“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.
He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”
Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 
In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 
“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 
“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 
It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”
Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.
You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”
“Deal.” 
You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 
Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 
Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 
Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 
An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 
“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 
“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 
Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 
“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 
You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 
When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.
His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 
Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 
“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 
“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”
When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”
“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”
“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.
He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.
It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 
But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.
He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.
With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.
He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 
But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 
You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.
His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  
You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”
Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 
The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 
They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 
You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 
Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.
You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.
He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”
“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 
“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”
Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 
Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.
His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 
Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 
You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 
“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 
For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 
It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 
“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 
But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.
“You close?” 
“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 
“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.
You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.
That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 
His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 
An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 
“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 
“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 
Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 
You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 
When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 
With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 
The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 
For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.
And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 
“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”
Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”
Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”
You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.
“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”
As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 
One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 
Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 
All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.
You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.
You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 
That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 
You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 
“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 
“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”
You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 
You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”
His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.
You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”
Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 
He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 
Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 
Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 
Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 
He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 
You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 
He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 
When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 
You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.
The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 
When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.
“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.
“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 
With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 
You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”
He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 
It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”
He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”
You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”
“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”
You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 
“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 
“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”
Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”
“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”
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dearggntlereader · 13 days ago
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Could you write chubby!yn x mattheo riddle, and she's really insecure about her body and always tries to hide it? Thank you so muchhhh❤❤❤
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Picture does not represent the reader's looks!!!
Warnings: mention of sex, cursing, angst
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Feelings . :☆。゚. ───
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It’s late and you should really be at your apartment or else you might give Mattheo the wrong idea. You don’t want him to think you two will have sex tonight, don’t want to lead him on. 
Especially with his hand loosely around your waist, drawing circles again and again.
His Hand is big and rough where it slides up and down your side. When you were playing with his Hand earlier you were wondering what it would feel like on you and you can confirm that it’s amazing.
He’s amazing.
You long stopped watching whatever Sitcom you ended up putting on and let your mind wander to the best ways to get away without making him think you hate him. You truly don’t. How could you, he’s smart, funny and insanely gorgeous.
The problem is that your oversized Sweater isn’t hiding anything if you’re pulled against him. He must be aware that you aren’t the perfect skinny girl, he has seen you in somewhat tight clothing and even if he didn’t there is only so much you can hide with clothing.
Still, no reason to remind him of that.
His warm Lips kiss the top of your head and suddenly there’s a whole other problem. You don’t want to leave. You want him to kiss and hug you forever, but guys rarely do. It’s already a wonder that he’s taken so much time for you, instead of using you to get off or some sort of practice for another girl.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks, a smile evident from the tone of his voice and when you look up your suspicion is confirmed.
Heat rises to your cheeks at the Nickname.
How the fuck did you manage to get the scary guy with piercing eyes and a sharp, arrogant smirk to call you ‘pretty girl’ and most importantly why? Why is he being so nice?
He squeezes your waist to prompt you to answer and you do, quietly. “Nothing, just thinking.”
The light laugh that leaves him as he stares down at your rosy face feels like a soft hug. “Yeah, but what about?”
“Oh, just-. I’m just zoning out, I guess.”
“You guess?” He’s teasing you now, you can tell by the glimpse in his eye.
You roll your eyes and avert your eyes from the slight smirk in front of you. Merlin, he’s so infuriating. 
“Shut it or I won’t finish the Episode with you,” you tease back with a laugh that sits heavy in your stomach.
It’s a test, really. To see how he responds to the idea of you leaving, maybe he wants you to.
Something switches in his eyes for not even a second before he squints at you in a way that makes you want to kiss him breathless. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?”
Apparently he’s had enough of your teasing because he quickly and effectively shuts you up by leaning in to kiss you. It’s not urgent or fast, just sweet. He tastes like cigarettes and the mango soda you two shared earlier.
When he pulls you onto his Lap you yelp and grab onto his shoulder. Mattheo takes that as an opportunity to let his tongue into the mix. 
The way he holds your waist is so incredibly loving in a way you can’t explain that a hole forms in your stomach. You want to cry from all his loveliness. The way he asks you questions and holds you and kisses you and does it all with warm eyes and sharp features.
You break away from him in a haste and try to suppress the tears. It’s all too lovely and you won’t risk losing it.
So, instead of giving him a chance to be disappointed you press out a timid “I have to go” and stand up from his Lap.
You don’t look at him and basically run out of his Apartment, quickly grabbing your purse and mumbling “goodbye.” without sparing another look at him.
If you did, you would’ve seen pure confusion turning into disappointment and then Anger. Anger, at himself.
He has no idea that you leaving didn’t mean that he did anything wrong. Is he that bad of a kisser?
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gorgeouslypink · 1 year ago
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something that i think people don't understand abt manifesting is that you really need to forget abt the "how"
i want to share something that happened recently at work. as many of you know, im working my dream job that i manifested in the void. the coworkers are great, the pay is amazing, i do like the work im doing and i manifested being really good at it too BUT recently i kind of hit a block mentally. there wasn't really anything i disliked and i couldn't even explain what i felt and why i felt this way.
i talked to some friends but all they could suggest is getting a new job but that wasn't it either.
anyways i know LOA and i can even enter the void. i didn't enter the void for this issue because i didn't know what i wanted so one night, when i was contemplating this entire issue, i decided no more. i just knowingly told myself that i would start loving my job and did SATS for it.
within the next day, a coworker announced she was moving to a different company. and by coworker, i meant a huge boss. this threw our entire company into a frenzy and it was determined that my department was to take on some of her stuff. all of us had our responsibilities moved around and i got some new tasks.
these new tasks are so fun! and i also came into realization as to what was troubling me. i work in data analytics, meaning i look at all my company's data and i analyze trends or anything else people need. i manifested being insanely good at coding and having an easy time with projects so i really like this job but i kinda didn't see any results of my work. i would do all this work and then hand it off to someone and just start doing something else. however, one of my new responsibilities is actually seeing what happens with my data, seeing what people do with it, and I'm now able to directly speak to some people in meetings and such and emphasize my thoughts. when i first manifested everything in the void, it was coming from a girl who was pretty insecure and shy and liked to keep to herself. im still an introvert (ig that never really leaves you) but now im way more confident and ig i really wanted to talk to people and push my ideas more.
not to mention, these new responsibilities opened up a whole new coworker circle for me. don't get me wrong, i love my coworker friends but it's always fun to meet newer people and i met some really nice people who are changing the way i think professionally but are also great people in general.
i also got my equipment upgraded and i never realized how annoying my old equipment was until i experienced the new equipment.
anyways i could go on and on but the point im trying to make is "don't worry about the how." i literally didn't even know why i was feeling down and if you had asked me before if that coworker would be leaving, i would have said no. she's been working there for 20+ years and she always loved her job and had amazing benefits so no one saw this coming, but i did talk to her and she said she always wanted to try a different industry and she finally got the opportunity. not to mention, my department and her department aren't even closely related. ig my department knows a little bit of everyone's stuff because we look at everyone's data but we were totally blindsided when we were first told thar we were the ones that were going to help take over, esp such a high level person's job.
this is a side story but one night, i just really wanted some cookies. ig i was having midnight munchies but the cookies were 25 miles away and there was just no way it was happening. anyways i fell asleep knowing that i was going to get the cookies the next day and i was just thinking of doordash or grabbing them myself but when i woke up, the cookies were on the kitchen table. before everyone starts hating and asking how those cookies appeared out of nowhere, apparently my friend was in the area and thought of me so she grabbed me some as soon as they opened and left it on my kitchen table.
so seriously, stop worrying about the how and what ifs and just go straight to your desire.
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hurts2think · 3 months ago
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Heyyy! I love the idea of Chloe Charming x fem reader who is Red’s sister (or some other villain). And the reader has never felt loved by anyone until she met Chloe but she’s scared to fall in love her. So basically the reader is like “I don’t know what love feels like.” And Chloe is like “Maybe I can teach you.” Sort of like Ben and Mal :)
Angst/comfort
I’m sorry if this is really confusing, but I didn’t really know how else to describe it. Hope that doesn’t sound rude!
⚔️Chloe Charming x Reader⚔️
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Reader pronouns: she/her
Pairing: Chloe Charming x fem! reader
Plot: Reader is the daughter of the Big Bad Wolf. A VK. She doesn't know how to love or what it feels like. But a certain blue haired princess is determined to help with that. Even after the reader ran out on her.
Word Count: 1.3k
Extra: I recently discovered not everyone knew the iconic "I don't know what love feels like" came from Mal and Ben. And what I have to say about that: Go watch Descendants 1! So amazing. Reader is kinda super dramatic in this. Hope you enjoy this even though it's short🫶
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It wasn't really like in the books or movies. You didn't 'wolf out' or go uncontrollably insane every full moon. It was more like your chest felt heavy, you legs ached, and your head pounded.
Going out to be in the moonlight didn't necessarily help, but you needed to get away. Far away from the hurt, but it only followed.
You walked through the trees and grass, pulling your thin red coat tightly around you as the wind sent chills through you.
Maybe it was a bad time coming out on a full moon in the cold. Maybe it was a bad idea to run off because you didn’t know how to handle what happened. How could you have handled it? Smiled and hugged her? Kissed her?
The thought just made you shiver again.
You finally stopped at a small clearing in the woods. There was a small bench there that you’d come to when you didn’t have anywhere to go.
You sat on the bench and sighed, looking up into the sky. You could hardly see the stars, all covered by clouds with only the moon peaking through and the light reflecting off your eyes.
You tried taking a deep breath but it only came out shaky. You clenched your fists and your abnormally sharp nails dug into the palms of your hands. You were trying everything to just calm down but you couldn’t.
You held your hand against the tree that was ingrown into the side of bench, digging your nails into the bark, as if trying to let out your pent up frustration somehow. And the full moon definitely wasn’t helping.
There was a sudden rustle coming from the direction you came from, you immediately jumped up, ready for whatever would jump out of the darkness. But what did jump out was a girl. A girl with big blue curly hair with a couple of leaves and sticks stuck in it and a worried expression on her face. Though she visibly relaxed when she saw you.
You on the other hand rolled your eyes and slumped back into the bench, “Why are you here, Chloe?”
She tried ruffling the leaves and twigs out of her hair as she slowly approached you, “You just ran off… I wanted to make sure you were okay…” she explained, settling in the seat next to you on the bench.
“Well, I’m fine. So you can leave now.” You huff, refusing to even look at her.
Chloe sighed, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset… but you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
A scoff escapes your lips, finally deciding to look at Chloe, “I’m half wolf. I think I can handle taking a walk by myself.” You say with a snarky bite in your tone. You really really hate talking like that. Especially to Chloe, your one and only friend. But it was like a shield. The attitude is what kept you from getting hurt. That’s what you thought at least, but it never seemed to work.
“That’s not what I meant—“ Chloe paused and took a breath, as if trying to find the right words, “Just… please talk to me. I get if you don’t feel the same way…” she trailed off for a minute, “But I don’t understand why you just ran off like that.”
You wished more than anything you could just make her understand. But someone like her couldn’t really understand you. Not really. You had to look away from her again. Seeing the moon in her eyes and the light making her blue hair look like it was glowing made you wish you could just grab her and kiss her.
“I don’t understand either. I don’t understand why you feel like that anyway…” you Mutter before continuing, “I mean, you’re a literal princess and I’m some villain kid. Not a reformed villain kid who aced goodness class, just some kid who gets in trouble and will inevitably follow in her dads foot steps.” Your voice slowly started to raise as you spoke. Like all of your emotions were about to start spilling out.
“That’s not true—“
“No. It is true.” You suddenly stood up from the bench, facing Chloe, “Why are you so convinced that I’m like you? I’m not some princess who goes around smiling at everyone I see! I’m not like you. Your mom and dad taught you how to sword fight for fun and good manners. What do you think my dad taught his daughter? How to be nice? How to be a good team player?”
Chloe stood up shortly after you finished your tangent. She carefully took one of your hands into both of hers. You wanted to pull away but you didn’t. He hands were soft and warm compared to the sharp chill that filled the forest, “What I think, is that none of that matters. You’re your own person, and I see the good in you. The real you. I don’t think you like antagonizing people, I don’t think you like following in your dad’s footsteps. I think you like school, and being on the track team, and being around the people that love you.” Her voice was so soft and sweet. It was so understanding it was almost annoying. But her voice was soft and she was gorgeous, especially underneath the moon. You had to look away again.
There was a long pause before you even spoke again. She was right. You didn’t like running around and scaring people. You didn’t like taking and breaking things. You just wanted to be you. But all that came out of your mouth was,
“I don’t know what love feels like…”
Chloe smiled softly. Everytime she smiled it felt like your heart would beat so loud that anyone around could hear it. She had a smile the shone brighter than the moon, a smile you’d be lucky to see just once in your life.
She gently grabbed your chin and turned your face to look at her, “Maybe I can teach you.”
And there it was again. Your heart beating so loud you thought it’d alert the birds sleeping in their nests.
And now more than anything you really wanted to kiss her, but everything in your head was stopping you.
“You don’t know that you can…”
Chloe’s hand leaves your chin and runs down your arm, “I’m willing to try. Because… I love you. I love you for you. And I want you to believe that.”
That was the first time you’ve ever heard those words from anyones mouth to you. It felt… nice. Nice but scary. The idea of letting her in and the potential of getting stabbed in the back later. Being vulnerable was never something you were allowed to do, even as a little kid you weren’t.
“I’m not ready…” you pause and then rephrase yourself, “I’m not ready for a relationship…. But… if you’re willing to wait for me… maybe something will work out.” You say quietly. You felt your face heat up, basically admitting your own feelings for the girl.
Chloe’s expression turned bright, she immediately wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in tightly. And damn did she give the tightest hugs in the world.
You wanted to push her off and remind her how you felt about the hugging… but you didn’t. You felt warm and calmed. You felt safe almost. Not quite, but almost.
“I will always wait for you. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter how long it takes, I’ll be right there for you. No matter what.” Chloe finally says, breaking away from the hug and looking you in the eyes. She always knew exactly what to say to make your heart flutter and your face hot.
And for the third time this encounter you wanted to kiss her again. You wanted to grab her face and smash your lips into hers, but you didn’t. It was probably best to start things slow. You’d work your way up to that one day.
The clouds cleared and you could see the sparkling specks of stars in the sky. For once in your life, you felt at peace on a full moon. You could think clearly, you could stand tall, and it was all thanks to one knightly princess.
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goldenwilliamson · 1 year ago
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salty skin | lucy bronze
a/n: this is my first woso anything on here... pls send requests to my ask box if you have any xxx
pairing: lucy bronze x lioness!reader
summary: reader and lucy are in australia for the world cup, pure fluff
word count: 881
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Being in Australia for the World Cup was nothing less than a dream come true. Not only were you getting to represent England, but it also meant you and Lucy got to spend some time together. Playing in different Leagues means you spend most of the year apart, so you were both feeling very grateful to be back playing together.
You'd woken up before Lucy did, feeling the incomparable comfort of being held in her arms. Being able to room together was another perk of National Camps. You'd made a promise to yourself that you would go for a swim at sunrise, so you carefully slipped out of Lucy's grasp, instantly missing the warmth of her body.
Slowly and quietly, you made your way around the hotel room, slipping a bikini on under your trackies and puffer and grabbing a spare towel from the bathroom. You grabbed your key card and phone and softly shut the door behind you. The beach was incredibly beautiful, despite it being the middle of Australian winter. It seemed like a few other girls had the same idea as you did, because you bumped into Ella, Alessia, and Lotte as you made your way down onto the sand.
"Up for sunrise?" You asked them.
"Hey!" They all said excitedly, not having spotted you.
"Lucy didn't want to come down?" Lotte asked sweetly.
"No, she was sound asleep, I didn't want to wake her," you explained.
You started unzipping your puffer jacket and pulling off you tracksuit pants, much to the surprise of the three other girls.
"You're not going in are you?" Alessia scoffed.
"Of course I am, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity Less," you smiled as you began to slowly jog down to the shoreline. The water was a bit of a shock to the system, but it felt amazing. A cold plunge was actually what you felt you needed after the gruelling nature of tournament play.
You didn't stay in for too long, just long enough to get used to the temperature, and then you hopped back out. The girls on the sand shook their heads at you as you approached them with a smile on your face.
"It's lovely in there," you told them as you picked up your towel and started drying off.
"You're braver than I am," Tooney said, making you laugh as you pulled your jacket back around your body.
"Alright, I'm gonna go get myself a coffee now," you bid the girls farewell and went back to the hotel. You made two coffees at the coffee machine, anticipating Lucy would be up soon. She was usually the early riser out of the two of you.
And you were right, because as you tried your best to quietly push the hotel room door open Lucy informed you she was awake, "I'm up, don't worry."
"Morning," you smiled at the sight of Lucy tucked into the crisp white bed sheets. She set her phone down on the bedside table as you sat down on the bed, handing her the second coffee.
"You're amazing," Lucy said appreciatively.
"How long have you been awake?" You ask, admiring how soft your girlfriend looks when she's just woken up and her huskier morning voice.
"Since you left," she says.
"Oh, sorry," you apologise, thinking you'd been able to leave without waking her.
"It's alright," she shakes her head, smiling at you. She always takes the piss out of you for how you can tend to apologise for things that you don't need to say sorry for. This usually ends up in you apologising for apologising and Lucy in fits of laughter at your chronic kindness.
"Did you go for a swim?" Lucy asks surprisedly as she reaches out to drag her fingers through your wet hair.
"I did!" You said proudly.
"Was it cold?" She asks.
You nod, "Like an ice bath."
"You're insane," she says.
"Mmm, I am," you hum, leaning in towards Lucy to give her a kiss, "But you love me anyway."
"I do," Lucy says contentedly.
You shiver for a second and Lucy furrows her brows together.
"I'm gonna run a warm shower for you. You'll get sick if you sit here all cold," she tells you, immediately stepping out of bed and going to the bathroom. Your heart swells at the gesture and you follow her to the bathroom, tearing away your jacket and letting it fall on the floor on the way.
You stand there in your trackies and bikini top as Lucy checks the temperature of the water with her hands.
"Thank you," you say appreciatively, never feeling so loved by such a simple act in your life.
Lucy steps towards you, planting a kiss on your forehead in response.
"Huh," she steps back, smirking.
"What?" You ask.
"Your skins all salty, so Australian," she laughs.
"God I need a rinse," you say, stripping away the rest of the clothes.
As you step under the warmth of the water, Lucy rests against vanity, trying to make conversation about the day ahead.
"You'll have to come in here Luce, I can't hear you over the water," you say, a thinly veiled request for something more.
Lucy scoffs, knowing what you're really looking for, "If you insist."
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moonastroellie · 4 months ago
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"You see someone unwilling to change, I see someone who hasn't been connected with yet. You see denial, I see someone hurting. You see someone nodding out, I see god telling us they need help. Addiction is a game, and it'll kill you if you let it."
Warnings: 18+, use of drugs, narcotics, ice, blood, mentions of suicide and depression, some flirting, mentions of sex but no smut, shit gets DEEP. :))
Based off this this
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You and Dina had been friends for years, she knows you well and you know her well- you were somewhat of a shy college girl, always sticking to your friend group and never really involving yourself in other groups of people..
With this being said, you had always suffered from chronic pain, just the usual back pain and knee pain like a fucking 80-year-old man that's had 5 kids and has no desire to live.
Dina had given you Ellie's number so you can buy off her, a nice dealer who you've interacted with a few times, she was unaware of your addictive habits because she didn't know you well, it started off with a text asking her for some narcotics and her coming to your apartment.
"Hey" she smiles kindly as you open the door "y/n right?" you nod, she smiles again, looking around your small tidy apartment.
"here's the stuff" she pulls out a small baggie filled with a brown substance, "here's the cash" you hand her a 50 dollar note and she looks at you confused "this is 50... It's only 35" she frowns, holding the cash in her hands.
"it's a tip" you grab the substance from her hand, "you don't need to tip your dealer" she explains and you chuckle "I'm aware... I've purchased narcotics before, I only tip the cute ones anyways" Ellie chuckles at your statement and bobs her head up and down slowly with a smile on her face "righttt, so I'm lucky?"
"Consider yourself lucky" you clear your throat, trying to clear the slight awkwardness in the air. "Well, it was nice meeting you Ellie" she smiles at you and makes her way out of your apartment.
As soon as Ellie leaves you find yourself having a great time with the narcotics, the feeling of warmness and Euphoria filling your altered-drug state, you couldn't stop smiling- it felt amazing, and you never wanted to let go of this feeling... Soon enough you fell into a deep drug-induced slumber, you felt like no matter what the world throws at you, you'd be able to handle it, this was only the beginning of your addiction.
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Dina was at your apartment the next day, talking about Jesse's party and inviting you along, obviously, you agreed almost immediately; upon arriving at the party you realized that it wasn't really a party without some drugs, you got a few shots in, and text Ellie, your drunken mind all over the place- Ellie was a bit worried by your drunken messages and flirty texts but brushed it off fairly quickly, arriving at the party.
"elliiieeee" you smile and she laughs, walking over to you "hey, you okey?" her question is sincere and filled with a hint of concern "I'm great" your voice is slurred and Ellie pulls out a baggie of a clear, crystal looking substance "ice is what you wanted right?" you nod quickly, "you got a pipe or?" you shake your head "shoot up time mother fucker" you laugh and Ellie grows concerned, but she's never sold you ice before so doesn't think anything of it so she brushes off her concerns.
"Dina, keep an eye on her will you? I'll still be here" Ellie asks Dina firmly and Dina agrees, watching you dilute the drug in a random sort of liquid-
as soon as you feel the drug travel through your veins, your mind runs to places- it almost makes you feel invincible, you feel happy and very talkative. Pupils huge, you walk around the party, sweaty and yapping everyone's ear off, people looked at you like you were fucking insane, but why the fuck would you care? This shit feels good in your veins, soon enough the teeth grinding happens, and you could barely understand what was going on besides how fucking funny everything was.
In a rage to look for Ellie, you finally find her. "Hey, you, you feeling good?" her voice unsure, tilting her head to the side, wow, she looked hot, really fucking hot and suddenly all you could think about was how fucking horny you were, you nod quickly and laugh, eventually yapping her ear off about everything and anything you could think of- your confidence shining through "did I ever tell you how hot you were?" you giggle, she smiles. "ahh, yes, the drunken and high you, wonderful" her voice is slightly sarcastic but still genuine, "you wanna go home?" you nod, and you basically skip to her car, filled with energy.
"Look, I know I'm your dealer and everything, but maybe lay off the drugs, please?"
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Days eventually turned into weeks of using, and you felt like you couldn't stop anymore, but you didn't care all that really mattered to you was getting your next fix.
The blood stains your arm after every shoot-up, you never really bothered to shower to get rid of the stains, the high was too good and too powerful- days started to morph together, you couldn't sleep anymore, your weight quickly dropping, your mother growing concerned after seeing you at your apartment, barely functioning, you would hyper-focus on cleaning your apartment- hours and hours you would go on and you'd still be cleaning the same spot.
Eventually, Ellie came over more often because she was slowly growing attached to you, but would get concerned after seeing you hyper-focus on the stupidest shit, it could be learning how to play piano or watching 3 movies in a row, not a single blink out of you, just staring.
"you sure you're good?" she asks cautiously, you look at her with tired eyes and a drug-fueled mind you nod, and before you know it the feeling of bugs crawling all over your body was set in your mind, these bugs wouldn't go away no matter how much you fucking showered or fucking itched, they wouldn't go away- but if you smoked more the feeling would go away, only temporarily though and as soon as you were sober withdrawals kicked in. It was at this moment Ellie knew you had an addiction, she didn't know how to help, she felt almost helpless to your addiction but she knew if she kept selling to you she'd be enabling your behavior. You both shared a lot of memories while you were high 24/7, cuddling with her, and watching movies, she even taught you how to play guitar and she couldn't forgive herself for the guilt that she had started this problem.
You were out of everything you had no more ice left, no more morphine, no more heroin, nothing... It was 1am and you were frantically texting Ellie for more, you knew she was seeing the messages but she wasn't replying, you groaned loudly "fuck" you mutter under your breath, hovering over the call button and finally pressing it.
"hello?" Ellie answers the phone, her voice unsure of what to expect "do you have any more stuff?" the line is quiet "hello?"
"y/n, I-" she huffs out "I can't keep selling to you, you're hooked. I'm sorry" this is when your mind goes into a straight fight or flight response "Ellie baby, please I'm desperate I'll take anything you have please"
"dude, your fucking let off the hook. I can't keep supplying to you and knowing you're struggling- go to rehab" her voice is firm "you're my fucking dealer Ellie, not my friend, what the fuck?"
"well, fuck me for fucking caring about you dude, I got attached and I can't keep doing this to you, so no, stop asking me" the guilt straining her voice "This is your fault, you did this to me" Ellie hums, knowing how addicts act, "you asked, I supplied, you're struggling- please, for yourself, not for me, quit and get help, you need it"
"can I come over?" your voice is weak "why? so you can steal my pills from my cabinet again? Fuck no" you scratch at your legs, the feeling of bugs still there, life felt fucking unbearable, you would rather just fucking kill yourself right now- one line would put you out of this fucking misery and you knew that it would, but only for a short time, your voice breaking as you speak, your eyes filled with tears.
"Ellie..." she cuts you off "we'll talk about this when you're sober babe, no more kiddo. I'm sorry"
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I didn't die, but I'm still in writers block so I don't know how good this will be but enjoy, I'll probably make a part 2 at some point
Just going to put this out there, I've struggled with addiction myself and I know of people who have, and if you ever do struggle don't feel ashamed to get help.
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thenightshadowqueen · 2 months ago
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The best character from each longform
(in my biased opinion)
This is (obviously) a long one, so if you do want to read it, more below.
(Also I left out the Patreon plays. I might do a separate post for them later; we’ll see.)
Jimmy (Tom, Toby’s Secret Pocket)
Look, Jimmy is the best. He’s adorable. He’s the representation we as the autistic community needed. He has happy flappy stimmy hands. He can’t walk through doors. We love him. (STOPINTHENAMEOFTHELAW!!!!!)
André Beetroot (AJ, Burglary and Bobsledding)
André Beetroot (André Beetroot) was iconic the first time around, but his return as the first recurring SFTH character obviously had to be memorialised.
The boy witch (Sam, Moist and Magical)
I was tempted by the witchfinder general, but the boy witch won out with “Henry Cavill with a wasting disease” and his thick accent. Also the cheeky little look he gives his grandma (Luke) when he flips her off wins him a lot of points.
Hugh’s mum (Tom, Marigolds Bluebells and Hugh)
She’s, like, a fair bit unhinged, but she has good intentions. She’s got amazing quotes, too; “why couldn’t you have just stayed in my womb forever” and “if you love something, lock it up” are both deeply concerning, but I love them.
The wife (Tom, Murders in Space)
This one is kind of an obvious choice. I mean, her quotes are glorious, and honestly “have you ever heard of feminism, James?” gets her top spot automatically.
Mario the sheep (Sam, the Lighthouse)
Was this even a question? I love Mario intending to be a one-scene character and then being forced to star in the whole play. I love the human bits. I love “🐑fuck you🐑”. I love the sheep (aka Sam) having a fucking breakdown at the end. 10/10 all around.
Titch (Luke, the Unrelenting Aubergine)
Listen, I was very tempted by Old Lady Margery (and by Derek), but in the end, canon queer guy with commitment issues and insane amounts of blindness around his own feelings won out. What can I say, I have a type in fictional characters.
Troll Son (Luke, Wine Under the Bridge)
Everything about this character is perfect. Screaming as hello? Colourful troll as a metaphor for being queer? Correcting a geography fact? It’s got it all. It’s perfect. I love Troll Son and his wine bar in Ipswich.
Juliet (AJ, Caesar and Juliet)
Is anyone surprised? She’s a murderous girlboss. “[My mother] said you have to be careful about men; they can be corrupted with power. But what she didn’t know is that so can woman.” They can, and I’m here for it. She’s bathing in blood and her skin is glowing. I love insane women.
Watson (Sam, the Mystery of the Midnight Circus)
Watson, driven mad with grief over his divorce and his one-sided love for Sherlock, becomes a murderous clown. Am I supposed to not love this? Is there even another choice in this play? And his breakdown at the end was gorgeous.
Priscilla (AJ, Pricilla’s Final Petal)
I was very tempted by both of her mums, and also a bit by the groundsman, but ultimately, Priscilla won out. She’s the title character. She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, and she’s working through her trauma with a buttercup and a piano lesson. Good for her.
Marty (Sam, the Evil Make-a-Wish Kid)
I considered the seven-year-old detective, but in the end, Marty won. He’s evil. He’s a make-a-wish kid. What more can I say? He’s got an iconic smirk. He burns down all the petting zoos on the entire planet (and his mum). He dies at the end. He’s brilliant.
Derek (Tom, Susan’s Holiday)
There were a lot of great options in this one, but “I like looking at the back of another man’s head” was too good to pass up. Also, I adore the whole monologue he has while he’s waiting to be buzzed in.
The gasoline salesman (Luke, Beetroots and Murder)
Okay, I know he’s only in, like, a quarter of a scene. I know that. And I can’t tell you why I love him so much but I do. He’s just. I just love him. I can’t explain it. There are so many great characters in this play, but the way he says “could be, could be” has captivated me. If you understand the way my brain works, please contact me, because I don’t.
Peter Steven (Tom, the Milkman)
I love so many characters in this play. I love Gareth, and I love the Texan bartender, and I love David the milkman. But Peter Steven is the sweetest, most traumatised little boy and I want to protect him. I will adopt him and I will never make him walk on his knees again. I will throw away the PS5 and I will let him dig up the back garden as many times as he wants.
Johnny and Janae (Luke and Tom, the Neighbour’s Under the Bed)
I know they’re two separate characters, okay, but they’re a set. I want to keep them together. And I just can’t choose, okay? They’re two autistic children whose neurodivergence presents in opposite ways, and their parents don’t know what to do with them, and oh look, I’m back to wanting to adopt traumatised children.
Captain Egbert (Luke, the Leftenmost Window)
Shoutout to the mum, but Egbert won this one. He’s, like, kind of an idiot. I’m here for it, though. He’s got the iconic “diluileayilybilyeilysilym” speech. He wants to go to the ~astral plane~ but he’s waiting for his birthday. He lets his wife dip him into a kiss even though it’s 1940. I love him.
The king (Sam, the Prime Minister’s First Day)
Listen, I love several characters from this one, but I’m going with this one. He’s unapologetically a dick. He wears impenetrable armour made from diamonds stolen from Indian subculture. He’s impossible to beat. He’s brilliant. (Also did anyone else kind of find Sam hot as the king or is that just me?)
Franz Haberburg (Sam, the Excited Chinchilla)
Obviously fuck Nazis (god I hope that’s obvious). That being said, some of SFTH’s best characters are Nazis, and this is one of them. He’s glorious. I have never seen such a brilliant rendition of a Nazi chinchilla.
The Italian detective (Tom, the Ingredients)
He can’t pronounce paella. Do I need another reason?
Chip (Sam/AJ, the Cardboard Stegosaurus)
Oh look, another traumatised child! I want it. (No, but seriously, I love Chip and his English/French seizures.) Also he’s one of the few characters who switches actors mid-play, and I love that.
Persephone (Tom, Wild Wet and Worrisome)
She’s amazing. “HEY!” is a gorgeous siren call and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. She deserved a happy ending and I’m still sad we didn’t get one. I like to think she swam to the shore and found Geoff again, and they lived happily ever after on a boat at sea, singing and not having to kill anyone.
Full Set O’Hands and his love/bother (Luke and Tom, No! I Always Loved that Caravan)
I know, I know, another set of characters, but you really can’t separate these two. They’re insane. I adore them. They’re just… Honestly, these two are comedy gold. Good for them because they are fucking timeless.
Andrew (Luke, All Eyes on Nigel)
Listen, Andrew is a naive little thing, and he must be protected at all costs. He goes through so much shit in this one, and I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and send him to rehab.
Magnus O. Puss (Tom, BUS)
Okay, this was a VERY close one between them and Arthur B. D., but Magnus is a genderqueer icon and we love them for it. Also, I feel like this is some of the most unhinged Tom content we have and I live for that.
Jeremiah (Luke, Inside the Mysterious Cube)
I was so torn because I love Bubba, too, but I’m trying to avoid putting sets of characters where possible, and Jeremiah just edged past Bubba because his death scene was gorgeous. (That is a mildly concerning reason to have a favourite, I will admit.)
Lord Lafayette (Tom, the Midnight Mystery)
You may be noticing a pattern; I adore Tom’s insane characters. We just don’t get to see that often enough. I love his very sexual flirting with Lady Lafayette (Sam). I love him making fun of the detective’s (Luke’s) shirt. I love “what does any self-respecting rich man do when he has a little boy in tights” followed by “captured—and only captured” as a save. I love him.
Dangerfield (AJ/Tom/AJ again, Once Upon a Time I Killed Mum)
I love the confusion when Tom briefly takes over as Dangerfield; it’s not often we get to see AJ understanding something that Sam doesn’t (I say this with all the love in the world). Dangerfield is so fascinating to me. He’s a “cleaner” for a crime lord, but he has mixed feelings about the things he does. I want to know how he got into it in the first place. How did he come into this life? I want to know.
Barry’s wife (AJ, the Hare who Wore a Sweater)
I don’t remember her having a name, but I could be wrong about that. She’s so sweet; she just wants to knit sweaters for the hares in peace. And then Jimmy the hare gets shot, and she and her husband go on a revenge plot. I’m here for it. I love her.
The king/tank commander (AJ, the Oopsie Daisy Bulge)
He’s obsessed with tanks. He used to have gay sex with his fellow tank commanders, but only as a joke. He sailed all the way around, through the other landlocked counties, into the east of France, and they never saw it coming. He drove tanks into the ocean. He’s so stupid he’s almost smart. I love him.
The landowner/farmer (Luke, Too Big to Be a Jockey)
He farms peasants (Luke, you genius). He’s such a dick, with his classist remarks about Johnny Jones, but somehow I love him anyway. His interview process is looking at a photo of someone and then hiring them, and he’s honestly wonderful. I love him.
Larry (Tom, Long Johns—Strike!)
Literally the only thing he does on screen is die. That’s it. That’s his whole purpose. And he does it beautifully.
Wizard Asceroth (Sam, the Dark Moons of Slough)
ASCEROOOOTTTHHHH!!! (I don’t have another reason. I don’t need another reason.)
The French waiter (Luke, Lost in Your Eyes)
I don’t know. I really don’t. But something about this character has stuck with me since the first time I watched it. Gorgeous accent. He kisses Amanda (Sam) for no reason at all. He gets stabbed by a gun. I love him.
The Lady of a Thousand Don Juans (Luke, the Meringue Haberdashery)
She tricked her husband for years. She murdered her own child. She has been a curse on all the Don Juans in this town. She’s one of the only villains who win at the end of a longform, and that’s very impressive. I love her.
Xavier (Tom, Oh my God is This a Joke?)
(Please refer to my previous statement about Nazi characters.) Okay, look. He’s a horrible person. But we as a fandom choose to disregard that because Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. I am not above this. I am, in fact, a part of this. Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. “I will die as I have lived…. Shirtless!” has to be one of the most iconic lines of all time. There was never any competition.
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dragonfly0808 · 10 months ago
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How Daphne Haunts the Narrative
I love the concept of a character haunting the narrative. Just… ugh I can’t even explain it.
My favorite examples of this are Sejannus and Lucy Gray in the Hunger Games.
I always found the concept of Daphne to be a very interesting one in the OG, this girl who was a Nymph and an amazing fairy sacrificing it all for her sister and winding up a ghost in a lake.
But I felt like that concept was never used to it’s full potential.
So… I tried to do just that.
In my rewrite, Daphne is almost this larger-than-life entity. She wasn’t just Bloom’s sister. 
She was an amazing fairy in her own right, she was a Nymph and the best Guardian of the Dragon Flame that’d been seen in centuries. On top of all of that, she was a dedicated Princess.
That’s part of what makes her tragic, she was the best, and she was still taken down.
Now, Daphne’s situation isn’t what I would call a proper haunting of the narrative, but she’s definetly very present in the way that, in some way or another, almost everything leads back to her.
Bloom is haunted by the idea of having to live up to Daphne, the more she learns about her sister the more she feels like she won’t be able to do just that. 
Bloom’s haunted by the memory everyone has of her sister, everyone who remembers Daphne has an insane level of respect for her and misses her dearly. That’s something that can intimidate Bloom from time to time and even make her jealous.
Then, there’s the fact that, if Domino hadn’t fallen and Daphne hadn’t been cursed, then Bloom wouldn’t even be a fairy in the first place.
Daphne gave up, not just the Flame but also a big part of her own power in order to keep Bloom safe and give her the power she would need to be the Guardian of the Flame.
Due to this, Bloom is haunted by guilt and resentment. Guilt due to the fact that pretty much everything she has could technically be seen as something that was ‘taken’ from Daphne. There comes the guilt, which then meets… resentment. Guilty resentment towards Daphne for giving her the Flame and being the action that drops the dominoes towards arguably every bad thing in Bloom’s life.
So, Bloom’s view and relationship of/with Daphne, is complicated to say the least.
This is something I love, since it allows for Bloom’s complex feelings to turn into something that I feel a lot of little sisters can relate to, just the confusion of loving and adoring your sister but also feeling jealousy and resentment and just, not being sure whether you should be like them and trying to be your own person when you have the same teachers… I think it’s kinda relatable in a way. If you take away all the magical shenanigans of course.
This is how Daphne haunts Bloom specifically, but this is named after the narrative, so how does Daphne haunt the very narrative of Veiled Wings?
That, is a very interesting question that has a bit of a complicated answer.
There are two ways in which Daphne haunts the narrative.
The first is ala Star Wars; the story ‘rhyming’. I don’t know if you’ve watched this very old interview with George Lucas but he said something along the lines of “the story rhymes”, what this means is that the same beats occur in the story, in opposite or contrasting ways. They ‘rhyme’.
This is what happens with Daphne and Bloom, in a sense, their stories rhyme.
Both grow up a bit lonely, both find their heart and soul in Alfea. Both make life-long friends there. Bloom finds her connections with fellow fairies while Daphne preffered witches and warlocks and Palladins.
They meet Tabitha and Stella, both with similar personalities but opposite powers. Avalon and Timmy, with the same habit of diving head first into research about anything they’re passionate about and being just a little (unapologetically) weird.
Then there’s their romances. Both Daphne and Bloom have tragedies as romances. Daphne and Valtor started off great, it was their ending that was oh so tragic. While, for Bloom and Sky, it’s Valtor that turns them into a tragedy in the middle of their relationship.
Politea and Selina, both dear friends lost to inner darkness.
Bloom’s story parallels a lot of Daphne’s. (Even if a lot of it is stuff that I just made up that hasn’t really been mentioned or explained).
The second way in which Daphne haunts the narrative, is that, like I mentioned before, almost everything leads back to Daphne in some way or another.
A lot of the villains or people we encounter have ties to her or are situations that she began/participated in in some kind of way.
Darkar was created in part due to Daphne. Darkar attacks Daphne, in turn, Valtor curses him and he becomes the red skeleton we know and love. Daphne is his origin story.
Before Bloom fought Icy, Daphne fought Icy’s cousin and her coven, who was the first to awaken the Ancestral Witches spirit. That is one parallel that I really like just, adding to the fight even if neither Icy nor Bloom are fully aware of the history of previous family also fighting.
Teachers we know (Griselda, Tabitha and Avalon most of all though Codatorta and Palladium also fall here) were once friends with Daphne.
Valtor’s entire reason for fighting is avenging and trying to bring back Daphne. And of course, the Ancestral Witches are locked away in time back in Domino as Daphne’s final act as a warrior. 
The end of Daphne’s story sets up the world the Winx start off in.
In a sense, all roads lead back to her.
The narrative can’t escape Daphne’s past actions, her choices, her story rhymes with Bloom’s and a lot of what happens in the story happens due to Daphne’s past and things that she once did.
I always felt like she was never fully utilized in the OG show and I really wanted to have her be a nearly constant presence, I wanted her to be perhaps even more than a ghost.
And thus, the idea of her haunting the narrative and Bloom.
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megu-meow · 7 months ago
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take my breath - sukuna
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Part 4 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
Lmk if you want to be added to the tag list! :D
This part is shit, I'm sorry. After TTPD I found myself unable to write fluff, but I've kept people waiting, so I had to force myself to write this.
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When Sukuna says soon, he means the next Thursday. He calls you on Wednesday after practice to ask you formally whether you could keep your schedule open for the next evening and you agree, because you have been waiting for your date for a few days now. However, you find yourself frustratedly trying on every piece of clothing you own, being indecisive about what to wear. You want to look good for him, because as you shyly admitted to your brother, you really like Sukuna. He's rough around the edges, but he seems like a good guy, unlike all the other people you've dated before. You contemplate calling one of the girls, but Senna and Akane love to gossip, and for the time being, you'd like to keep this little date with Sukuna a secret. So you call the only person you can trust in this situation.
Sophia arrives ten minutes after calling her saying you need help getting dressed for a date. She's the only one of the girls who knows that you have something going on with Sukuna, it makes total sense to reach out to her in your current circumstance. You already made her swear on your brother's life that she's not going to say anything about it to the girls, so you're safe in that regard. Plus, she has a keen sense of style, which comes in handy considering you want to impress the pink-haired centerman with your looks. You noticed already how many pretty girls were wearing his jersey to games, you know that he could have any of them at his disposal in a second. It still seems sketchy that he became so fond of you in such a short period of time, but you're not complaining.
"He was so nervous when I left, Kento thought he was going to explode." Sophia says as you try to put socks on, balancing on one foot.
"Who was?" you look at her and you nearly kiss the ground, regaining your balance at the last second.
"Sukuna, of course. He's been pacing around the apartment like a maniac all day."
"Really?" you ask timidly.
"Yeah. Kento said he had never seen him so stressed." for some reason hearing this makes you smile and your heart warm. Sukuna doesn't strike you as someone who would be nervous about dates, but you already learned not to assume anything about him, because he always surprises you with the way he acts.
"I'm kinda nervous too. I want this to go well." you explain and you try to put your earrings in. As you look at yourself in the mirror, wearing the outfit your sister-in-law put together, you're content with your reflection. You look amazing and you feel confident in the pieces you're wearing. Your makeup and hair are done in your usual way, you don't want to look like a completely different person. Apparently, Sukuna agrees that you look good. Because the moment you open your door for him, he freezes in place, with his eyes wide and glimmering. For a second you think something is wrong, but those thoughts are quickly dismissed as he speaks.
"You look beautiful, y/n." he states, his voice softer than you've ever heard. He is wearing a burgundy suit, one that complements his skin tone. His hair is sleeked back, but it still looks effortless in a way. You can smell his usual cologne, the musky scent that lingers. It suits him.
"Says you, handsome." you compliment him back and you swear a blush appears on his cheek. Suddenly, he remembers something, and he gives you the flowers he was hiding behind his back all this time. "Thank you! What happened to all flowers are stupid?" you ask as you smell the peonies in your hand.
"Well I got you some sunflowers, but your brother told me I was insane, so he dragged me to a florist to get 'ones that girls actually like'." he explains.
"He's right, you know? You made me wait four days for this date, the least you can do is give me some girly flowers." you joke and he rolls his eyes. Nonetheless, he reaches out for your hand. You slip it in his palm, which is calloused from holding a hockey stick most hours of a day, but very warm.
"Listen, woman, I made you wait because I wanted to take you to a 3 Michelin Star restaurant that specializes in your favorite food." he explains as he opens the door of his car for you to hop in.
"What?" you ask in shock before he closes the door after you. He leans down, looking into your eyes with a smirk across his face.
"You heard me, y/n. Now, don't be so shocked, I told you I would go all out for our date."
"You didn't have to though. You could have taken me to a hole-in-the-wall ramen place and I would have liked it." you say, slightly feeling bad "How did you manage to get a table anyway? These places are booked months ahead."
"The owner is a huge Wizards fan and apparently I'm his kid's favorite player. I had the team sign a jersey and got them season tickets, so they were glad to do me a small favor in return." he explains like it is nothing, but it means the world to you. No one has ever done something so grand for a date with you. It makes your heartbeat go nuts and you can't help but stare at him as he drives. You observe his tattooed hand that is on the armrest, shaking slightly. You smile and instinctively take it in yours, laying your intertwined hands in your lap. He turns his head towards you in shock, but he quickly looks back to the road. The blush from before returns, even his neck turns pink, and you smile, adoring his reactions.
The dinner goes by fast, despite lasting for hours. The food is exquisite, as expected. Most importantly, there's not one dull moment. You and Sukuna talk like you've known each other your whole lives. He asks about your interests, what you like to do in your free time, where you went to school, and about your friends. He seems interested in everything you talk about, he listens with an intensity you find rare. He drinks up every single word that leaves your mouth, he asks questions, and he's genuinely curious about how you perceive the world. You ask him plenty of questions yourself and he answers them gladly. He seems very fond of his brothers, he shows you pictures of them and you observe how Yuji has the same color hair as him and Choso has a very similar line tattooed on his nose as Sukuna's.
"They're coming to town soon, by the way." he comments and your eyes light up.
"How come?"
"It's Yuji's draft year and it's held here in Tokyo. Choso just tags along because he clings to that brat like a leech."
"That's so rude!" you exclaim, but you're smiling. You're aware that Sukuna probably shows his love towards his brothers a little bit peculiarly.
"Well, it's true."
"Do you see a chance of Yuji being drafted by the wizards?" you ask.
"Not really. He is prospected to be in the top three of the draft and we are clinching the playoffs this next game as number one in the league. We probably won't have a pick in the top ten."
"I'm sorry to hear that. It would have been cool for him to have you on the team he's drafted to."
"I don't think so. If I'm being honest, I'm glad there is little to no chance for that to happen as of now."
"Why is that?"
"He won't have a target on his back. Otherwise, people would be mean to him and would rough him up with the sole purpose of pissing me off. This way he can become a professional player without being concussed every game."
"You're very protective of your brothers, huh?" you ask and he smiles.
"You could say that." he smirks "I'm protective of everything I own, you know." he adds looking into your eyes deeply. You know there is a deeper meaning behind his words. He's implying that he would be just as safeguarding about you if you were his girlfriend. You find it hard to believe that a guy like him exists. He is so charming but respectful. He is attentive, you mentioned one time what your favorite food was and he remembered, moreover, he went out of his way to get you the best version available of it.
"Where were you my whole life?" you ask, not realizing that you blurted out your thoughts just like that. You feel embarrassed as your hands fly to your runny mouth, covering it. However, Sukuna just laughs. He rarely laughs like this. It comes deep from within, the type that shakes your whole body and you're sure you're red like a lobster as you observe him.
"Sweetheart, I've been asking that question about you since December." he answers, his charming smile never fading.
"December?" you question.
"Oh, I thought your brother told you about that too." he seems shocked, but he continues "I've spotted you in the crowd at the Family Game in Kyoto. I was mesmerized, I even ran into one of my teammates on accident, I was too preoccupied with looking at the angel in the Wizards jersey."
"Oh, I remember that. I was laughing about that with Akane." you recall and Sukuna frowns "So you've had your eyes sat on me since then?"
"Well, I didn't know I was going to meet you on my first day in Tokyo while I was shirtless, but destiny has its way, I guess."
"You believe we were destined to meet?"
"I told you before, sweetheart, I am superstitious. Take that as you want, but I do think we are here having dinner for a reason." he explains.
Your date ends when the restaurant staff asks you nicely to leave because they've been closed for two hours already. You didn't even realize that all the other customers had left and the staff was ready to close. Sukuna pays for the bill and he sends you a death glare when you offer to pay for your part. "Woman, you won't have to pay for anything while you are out with me." he states, irritation evident in his tone. He also drives you home and walks you to your door. You're wearing his suit jacket, because you were a bit cold, although he turned the heater on in the car.
"Thank you for tonight! I had a lot of fun." you smile up at him, as you're trying to say goodbye on your doorstep.
"There is nothing to be thankful for, you got what you deserve, princess." he says and he seems a little bit disappointed, but you're not able to determine why. Maybe the date didn't go as well in his perspective as you thought.
"Is something wrong? Did I say something to offend you?" you ask in panic and he quickly shakes his head, dismissing it. Suddenly the redness returns to hiss tattooed cheeks and he suddenly seems nervous.
"I just thought I deserved a kiss after that." he whispers shyly, his face down, gaze locked on the tip of his shoes.
It's your turn to laugh at his awkwardness, but you still cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. You don't quite understand where all this fearlessness came into you from, but you're glad it did because the kiss is magical. It's soft but eager and you can feel him smiling into it as his large hands find their destined spot in your hips. You're the one to break the kiss, but Sukuna pulls you in closer, resting his forehead on yours, and looking deeply into your eyes. His smile reaches his ears and he whispers to you softly:
"I hate to break it to you princess, but I don't think I can go on with my life without doing that every day."
You smile, and respond with a smile just as wide as his "Good, because I don't think I can either."
The next day is game day and you arrive at your brother's apartment beforehand. You usually drive with them to the arena. Sukuna emerges from his room in his game-day suit, his eyes glowing up the moment he sees you there.
"We're gonna be down at the car, Bambi." Sophia says as she and Kento leave in a hurry.
Sukuna steps closer to you, embracing you, his muscular arms around your shoulders.
"Hello, princess! How are you?"
"I'm great, Sukuna. Thank you for asking! How are you?"
"Better now that I know you're coming to the game to cheer me on." you smile, stepping away from the embrace, and you look into his eyes. "Are you gonna give me a good luck kiss or what?"
You're surprised by his boldness, but you leave a peck on his lips nonetheless.
"If I do good today, you're gonna have to do that before every game." he states.
"Alright. You've got yourself a deal." you smile and you urge him out the door, before your brother and his wife could start thinking that you're doing something inappropriate in their home.
Good does not describe the way Sukuna plays that night. He has one of the best games of his life and after the first goal, as his celebration, he looks towards where you're standing and points at you with a wide smile on his face. This is your sign that from now on, you're gonna have to keep your promise of giving him a good luck kiss before every game.
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🩵 Tag list: @ichorstainedskin @ureuphoriasworld @new-weather47 @deepchromatose @cvr2mya @janrcrosssing @bakuhoes-bxtch @deluluforcarlos55 @stainednailpolishremover @thejujvtsupost @bleachisfood @dorck26 @chilichopsticks @when-worlds-end 🩵
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jelestes · 5 months ago
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My completely sane and hinged rant after rewatching the second season of The Bear 😍
• Carmy/Claire
OMG I want to like Claire so badly but her character is so fucking annoying and that’s putting my whole sydcarmy shipper personality aside, she adds nothing to the plot/show, nothing to Carmy’s growth as a character (not that she should be responsible for that, but as a part of his subplot she doesn’t do much), no new perspectives, nothing. She has nothing you can hold on to she’s just kinda there. Her personality is bland and she’s pushy but at least she’s nice i’ll give her that! All that being said, Molly Gordon (the actress) did a great job!
• Natalie
Natalie isn’t talked about enough and it makes me so angry because she’s such a fascinating character like what was ep6??? that girl needs a fucking hug. As a woman with mommy issues I get Nat on so many levels (like, my mom also has threatened to blown her brains out in front of me so many times lmao) we only got a glimpse to what her life was/is like and I was already bawling my eyes out can’t imagine what they have in store for the next seasons. Also kudos to Abby Elliot (the actress) for the amazing job, we got to see so many sides of Nat it was so refreshing. (Ps: LOVE her relationship with Syd, omg)
• Tina
I remember hating Tina the first two episodes but man how much do I love her now. Her character just warms my heart, love LOVE that they made her a sous.
• Richie
I love cousin so fucking much. That’s pretty much it. As a twenty something struggling to find my passion and my path in general his plot in the second season really hit me, also his growth as a character in general was so nice to see, the way he realized he had to change to love himself not tiff or anyone else, that was really really cool.
• Richie/Natalie
Now call me absolutely insane but why do I feel there’s a tension between them? the whole soda thing when she says she’s pregnant (there’s a parallel to when Tiff was pregnant in 3.06), when he apologizes (it doesn’t feel he’s just apologizing for something in the present), idk there’s been a tension there since season one and I think it might be addressed in season 3? idk I might be delusional but I can’t be the only one seeing it.
• Carmy/Syd
* sighs * BECAUSE IF I SEE SOMEONE CALL THAT SHIT PLATONIC ONE MORE TIME I-
Can someone rationally explain to me why is Sydney the only person who can calm Carmy down during a panic attack? How is this shit platonic be so fr right now!!!! Why was Sydney over explaining herself when she told Carmy she doesn’t feel jealous of Claire? Try to explain this to me. You can’t because saying this is platonic sound fucking stupid SPECIALLY after the table scene.
IMO, they both know it and they both refuse to acknowledge it but specially carmy. I feel like they gonna have a fall out on s3 so they can finally start building this in the right direction.
That’s pretty much it, thank you for coming to my ThebearTalk! I’ll be insufferable for the next few weeks <3
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year ago
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what happened in switzerland?
mick schumacher x singer!f!reader
fc: gracie abrams bc i have no self control
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britishvogue posted...
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liked by ynofficial, alexachung and 231,926 others
britishvogue: Singer y/n l/n recently attended a music festival in Australia after her break from social media and the public eye. In an interview conducted by a fan, she explained how she was excited to see what the future has in store and is looking forward to releasing new music after an inspiring trip to Switzerland this Winter.
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fan1: FINALLY MOTHER HAS RETURNED
fan2: get this woman a grammy immediately
fan3: pls she's so cute 😭
fan4: at this point i genuinely think i'm in love with her
fan5: this is amazing and all but i'm wondering why switzerland?
fan6: switzerland is actually very beautiful so it makes sense that she was inspired when she visited
fan7: fr like switzerland in the winter???? cold but GORGEOUS
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liked by alyahcs, alexachung and 791,193 others
ynofficial: i feel like it'd be weird to ignore the fact that i kind of went offline for about a year and a half (and i only just found out that virtually nobody had seen me either) so i'm letting you guys know that i'm alive, well, happy, and writing again - and i'm so excited to announce that a new single, 'happy endings', will be released at midnight tonight!
also, have some (2) pictures from the last 18 months, photographed in my new happy place 🥰
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fan8: YOU LOOK SO HAPPY IM SO EXCITED
fan9: happy endings will either destroy my mental health or leave me a sobbing mess on the bathroom floor (wrong, it'll do both)
fan10: switzerland is officially on my bucket list of countries to visit
ynofficial: good girl👍👍👍👍
fan10: imdead 🧎🧎
fan11: i'm 🫶 so 🫶 proud 🫶 of 🫶 you 🫶
ynofficial: STOP YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH
georgerussell63: looking forward to hearing it!
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mickschumacher has posted to their story...
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liked by mclaren, lissiemackintosh and 360,184 others
mercedesamgf1: it's official: the boys are all in their 'happy endings' eras! 🥳
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fan12: came for the driving update, left knowing we can stan the merc boys
fan13: AS THEY BLOODY WELL SHOULD BE
fan14: idk bout you but mick is cheesing a little too hard at that question 😏
fan15: i thought that too, but he probably just has a little crush, bless his soul 🥰
fan16: i wasn't convinced but after i saw lewis likes her music, i listened to her recent single and omg it's actually incredible
fan17: is this the same y/n that mick posted about the other day?
fan18: yes!
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liked by ynofficial, phildunster and 483,188 others
mercedesamgf1: familiar faces in the garage. fabioquatararo, tomholland2013 and ynofficial are attending the race on behalf of us (by popular demand 😉)
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fan19: i hope the drivers begged them to invite ynofficial 😞
mercedesamgf1: who says they didn't? 🤔
fan20: I BET IT WAS MICK
fan21: GIVE ME A TOM AND Y/N INTERACTION I'M BEGGING YOU
fan22: tom??? fabio is a literal motogp wc 😭
fan23: scraping for crumbs of y/n rn GIVE US EVERYTHING YOU HAVE
mercedesamgf1: 🫡
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liked by estebanocon, connor_swindells and 519,312 others
ynofficial: thank you mercedesamgf1, this weekend has been INSANE!!! also, a massive shout out to mickschumacher for being the best tour guide 😁
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fan24: ok panic over *mops up forehead* 😌
fan25: aw i was kinda hoping they were dating, they'd be cute together 🥲
fan26: this^
fan27: the way they both looked like they were having fun 😊
fan28: PLS HIS FACE IT'S TOO CUTE AHHSDJF
fan29: omg she did a hot lap BABE WHO WAS THE DRIVER
ynofficial: mickshumacher!
fan30: oh. my. god.
mercedesamgf1: content coming soon 😉
fan31: i'm dying someone send helllllpppppp
fan32: why am i fighting the urge to squeal after that merc comment
fan33: no bc same that emoji defo implies something
mickshumacher: had an awesome time with you this weekend ☺️
liked by ynofficial
fan34: shooting his shot
fan35: yk what, i'd probably do the same
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liked by landonorris, stephbohrer and 591,374 others
mickschumacher: austria 😁
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fan36: hmm yeah they're probably dating let's be honest
fan37: but he was only her tour guide and it's kind of natural that he'd get photos of her, esp considering she was invited as a merc guest?
fan38: true but when has mick ever done that before?
fan37: i'm just saying, the last thing we want to do is assume things bc there's a perfectly reasonable excuse as to why they've been spending time together
fan39: FUCKING BROAD SHOULDERS 🫠🫠
fan40: i just know y/n took that 😭
fan41: kay but all those photos are just so cute
fan42: right???
callum_ilott: 🤨
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liked by danielricciardo, kaitlyndever and 691,320 others
ynofficial: my new album 'STAYING AT SEB'S' is out next week and i'm so excited for you all to finally hear it!
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fan43: seb's? as in seb vettel's farm?
fan44: just how did you draw that conclusion????
fan43: bc she could be dating mick and seb owns a farm in switzerland and i'm pretty sure she knows daniel ricciardo through her manager who knows seb vettel. it's far-fetched but it's not impossible
fan45: if this is right...🤯
fan46: OMG I'M SO EXCITED I JUST SHIT MYSELF IN COSTCO
fan47: i'm gonna listen to this because i'm a massive fan of baby goats
ynofficial: omg i love that for you
fan48: is it a happy album or soul-crushingly depressing
ynofficial: 🤷
fan49: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN GIRLIE 💀
charles_leclerc: no bc i'm so excited
fan50: charles lmao
ynofficial: 🫶
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liked by ynofficial, sebastianvettel and 691,186 others
mickshumacher: happy two years, sweetheart 💗 there's never been a day i haven't been in complete awe of your existence; i love and appreciate you everyday
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fan51: oh. em. acca. gee.
fan52: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
fan53: I SHIP IT. I SHIP IT SO HARD
fan54: babe calm down, they've sailed already
fan55: i'm crying pls the way she looks at him HAS ME BLUSHING
georgerussell63: congrats to the happy couple!
estebanocon: about time our dts gossip session came to light 🤣
danielricciardo: fucking finally 😁
lewishamilton: 💜
fan56: the support from the drivers is melting meeeee
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liked by mercedesamgf1, laurawoodsy and 712,001 others
ynofficial: happy 2 years to my favourite person, the love of my life, the most adorable human being ever created, and my best friend. it's been a blast so far and i'm loving every second of it 🥰
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fan57: can i ask if mick is the inspiration for 'happy endings'?
ynofficial: he's actually the inspiration for the whole album
fan58: he's so golden retriever
sebastianvettel: i can confirm this is true
danielricciardo: hello??? seb??? look at my texts
fan59: ok he's hot
fan60: THE MOTORBIKE AND THE ARMS 😭🥵
fan61: she's out here creating thirst traps of her bf
fan62: honestly if he looked like mick, i think i would too
fan63: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 'STAYING AT SEB'S'??????
ynofficial: SEB VETTEL
charles_leclerc: 😲
estebanocon: 😲
lewishamilton: 😲
danielricciardo: 😲
landonorris: 😲
ynofficial: kay wtf
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kingofpopmj · 4 months ago
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Conscious Decision
Part 8
July 21st, 1988
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*Y/N’s POV*
I felt myself sinking deeper into the mattress the longer I laid here. I couldn’t bring myself to move let alone open my eyes. I had just spent a fourth night sleeping alone after our wedding day— well what should’ve been. Now, more than ever I felt the most connected to him. I could feel his sadness, pain and fear. It felt like a malicious joke. It’s been four whole days without him, yet the hold he had on my heart and mind was stronger than ever. He had me even though I was fighting it, but that was a joke too, because I wasn’t putting up much of a fight anyway.
“Do you want to join the girls and I today? We’re going into town.” Janet jumped onto my bed, propping herself up on her elbows.
“I think I would much rather lay here all day. The sun is too bright and the birds are singing too loud. Who was that on the phone?”
“I’m glad to see you’re still as optimistic as ever. Y/N, you know who it was.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, playing with the ends of her hair. “Come on. You can’t stay in the room another day. You have to get out. Come with us, it’ll be fun!”
“The phone has been ringing nonstop for hours. That was all him?”
“Yes. Can we change the subject now?”
“What did he say?” I rolled onto my side, staring at her impatiently.
“Okay, we’re still on this. This isn’t a good idea. I don’t think me telling you everything that little twerp said will help.”
“It’s that bad?”
“No. I mean it’s the usual, he wants me to tell you all this mushy stuff and he’s asking when he can see you. He doesn’t sound too good.”
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
“I’m just so mad at him.” I huffed, sitting up and crossing my legs. I didn’t want to go on like this much longer. I don’t want to be angry anymore.
“I know.”
“I love him.” I let out a deep breath, trying to fight the urge to cry again.
“Yeah, no shit.” Janet rolled her eyes and for the first time in days I laughed with her. A genuine laugh and it felt amazing.
“You’re so annoying.”
“Do you want to see him?” She crossed her arms, staring at me with a weird look on her face.
“Yes, but I don’t know if I should want to see him.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“That depends. Is it mean?”
“No! I’m never mean!” She flung her legs to hang off the side of the bed, exhaling dramatic as ever, “We all know this isn’t the end. What he did was— he’s an ass for doing it, but he hasn’t really had the chance to explain. I mean no damn explanation will ever make up for it— he’s still an idiot, but maybe it’ll give you the necessary closure to move forward together or move on separately. You guys are going to move on from this one way or another, because even though my brother is king of the fools and doesn’t deserve you— I mean seriously you’re so out of his league he’s lucky you even look his way. I swear the fucking nerve. You’re the whole damn package and he ain’t shit— he’s lucky he met you when you were kids. He had years to soften you up. Now, you see his goofiness as endearing, instead of what it truly is. A big ass red flag!” She took a deep breath, before going on. “Anyways, for some insane reason he won you over. You love him. And as much as I hate him right now, I have to cut his the tiniest shred of slack. Michael doesn’t have much— well any experience with relationships, he’s never tried to understand them for anyone but you. It’s unknown territory. He’s never cared enough about a person to explore a relationship. No one measured up because there is only one you. You’ve had his heart since the beginning— his stupid little heart. In his mind, the definition of love is you. Love equals Y/N. That’s the only way it’s comprehensible to him— the only way it’s real in his eyes. Besides this, he’s done a decent job being your guy— I mean this was a huge deal, it was your fucking wedding, so maybe that erases all the things he did right. I’m not sure. I haven’t decided yet.” She stood up, walking back and forth along the rug, her arms waving in the air as she spoke. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s got his crusty little nails dug into you and he’s not going to let go. Not without a fight and I’m telling you as his little sister, Michael can take a lot of hits. He won’t give up easily. I don’t know what he’d do if he lost you and honestly I’m hoping I don’t have to find out, but I’ll support you in whatever you decide. I believe he’s truly sorry. Maybe you’ll feel better when you hear his side. I think, if you really want to see him, you should.”
“Wow. That was the sweetest, meanest thing you’ve ever said about Michael.”
“I try.” She shrugged, giggling at her own sarcasm.
“What time are you leaving? Should I call him?”
“In an hour. Relax. That little fool will call again and when he does I’ll let him know.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll give him a piece of my mind too just to scare him.”
“Janet.”
“I’m going to tell him you packed up and went back home.” She laughed like a hyena, jumping off the bed only to fall over. “Oh, he’d probably cry.”
“Please don’t make him cry.”
“What! You did! Why can’t I?” An uncomfortable silence followed and her expression shifted along with it. “Shit. I’m sorry that was too soon.”
“It’s okay. I just— it sucks that this is our reality.”
“It’ll take time, but this will all be worth it in the end. It’ll be—” The telephone rang loudly as we stared at each other, slowly directing our attention to the piercing noise. “I’ll get that.” She smiled, looking over at me one last time. “Are you sure?” She asked with her palm resting on the telephone.
“Yes. I’m positive.”
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*Michael’s POV*
“Michael.” My younger sister’s annoying voice came from the other end.
“Hi.” Suddenly, I was very aware of how many calls I’ve made to this number, but I didn’t care enough to be embarrassed about it.
“So, what’s up?” She was teasing me, I could imagine her at this very moment, smiling deviously with her hand on her hip.
“My blood pressure. How— how is she?”
“The same as she was fifteen minutes ago.”
“Okay.”
“How are you?” Her tone changed, I could tell she was being sincere. “Brother, you can talk to me, are you okay?”
“No.” I answered honestly. “I ruined everything. I thought I knew why. I thought it was the right thing. I just wanted to protect her. I don’t know how to exist knowing that any second I could lose the one person that makes it— that gives my existence purpose.”
“Damnit Michael.” She huffed loudly.
“What? What is it?”
“I’m trying to be mad at you right now and you go say that?” I could hear her pacing as she let out a sad chuckle. “Now, you have me crying like a baby. You know what, you shouldn’t be allowed to talk. Let me be mad at you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re so annoying. Always saying the perfect thing. You damn poet.”
“I’m—”
“She’s in the shower.” Janet quickly interrupted me. “She’s getting ready.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good she’s going to get out and do something. She deserves to be happy.”
“Michael, listen to me and listen carefully. Y/N is really fragile right now. She’s strong, but that doesn’t mean she’s indestructible. What happened— what you did, it messed her up. It’s triggered things in her that I don’t think she even knew existed. She’s cried so much, I didn’t know it was humanly possible to produce that many tears. You freaking jerk. Seriously, I don’t even— I love you, but damn I’m really struggling to be nice to you right now. I don’t understand why you did this, but I’m not the one you owe that explanation to. Michael, I want to help, but in order to do that I’m gonna need you to get your head out of your ass. I’ll do everything I can to help you get your girl back. Let me help you, no more stupid shit. It’s going to be difficult, but I believe it’s possible to get past this. It’s possible if you don’t go rouge again. You only get one chance with me. Brother, I promise, you so much as breathe in the wrong direction and I’ll knock you on your ass.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry, I truly am. I wish I could do it all over again and do it right. Thanks, you saying it’s possible for us to get past this is the best thing I’ve heard in days. I’ll be good I swear, I wouldn’t want to feel the wrath of Janet.” I rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the tickle in my throat. “You should take her to The British Museum or St. Paul’s Cathedral, she’d love those. I can make a few calls and get you guys a tour guide or passes. Whatever you guys need.”
“Okay, on one condition.”
"You’re a pain in my ass. What’s the condition?"
"You should be the one to take her."
“She doesn’t want to see me. I’d ruin her day. I’ll be lucky if she ever wants to see me again.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day. Why else do you think she’s getting ready?”
“Are you being serious? Because this would be a really mean joke.” I sprung up from my previous position, kicking off the layers of covers weighing me down. “We’ve been on the phone for ten minutes and you’re just now telling me?”
“Yes.”
“She really wants to see me?” This must be what Christmas morning feels like.
“She really does.”
“She really does?”
“Yes. Okay, I have one more thing to say. Michael, I love you and I love Y/N. I love both of you so damn much, together and as individuals. You guys getting together is— it was so awesome. She’s been family for so long. We were all excited when you two finally made it work. I don’t know it just felt like, you know, like it all fell into place. Fuck, this is hard. Look, I’ll do whatever I can to lead you two back to one another, because right now it’s evident that you both want that, but I’m going to do whatever is best. So, if I get even a sliver of a feeling that Y/N doesn’t want this, no matter how much it’ll hurt, I’ll support her. If she decides at any point she needs to walk away from you, I’ll be there for her. That’s never going to change. I’ll be here for both of you, just separately.”
“I understand.”
“Okay.”
“I have to get ready. It's actually such a relief that it’ll be the three of us.” I said, the nerves were quick to take over my body as I tried to think of what to say to her. What can I say to her? Janet being there will definitely take the edge off.
“Is thirty minutes enough time for you?”
“I could get ready in five minutes with the way I’m feeling right now.”
“Good. Oh, by the way, this morning mom and the girls invited Y/N and I to go out with them. It’s a nice day to do some sightseeing, don’t you think? Yeah. Well, I’m still going with them, so it’ll just be the two of you. Y/N’s expecting you to pick her up from my room. Don’t be late! Bye!” She spoke so fast I could barely process it.
“Wait!—”
“Gotta go! Kisses!”
She giggled wickedly, hanging up on me without another word. I swear she lives to watch me squirm. I dropped the phone and watched as it hung by the wire, bouncing up and down before stopping all together. I rubbed my eyes as I got out of bed for the first time in four days. My room, that was once our room, was dark and stuffy and to my mother’s dismay I refused to let her tidy up. It looked like how I felt on the inside. I deserved to be surrounded by darkness and disarray. My body ached as I dragged my feet over to the bathroom, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up which felt like an eternity.
My mind wandered to Y/N, stepping into the tub felt so lonely, everything felt empty without her. I never truly understood how integral she was to my life. I don’t have many friends, many people I can trust, she’s the small piece of normalcy in my life. 
“I’m not sure where you go from here, but you’re going to have to accept the fact that it’ll be without her.”
My brother’s words echoed in my head as I felt that sensation, the one that has quickly taken control of me often since that day. The one I couldn’t escape regardless of how hard I fought.
The sound of blood pounded in my ears. My heart collided against my chest with force. My hands began trembling beyond control. My vision growing more distorted, I tried to blame it on the steam from the shower, but I knew better. I had to get away. I couldn’t stay stuck in this bathroom any longer. I needed out.
I unintentionally ripped the curtain off the rod while reaching for my towel. I leaned against the cold tiled wall, fighting to fill my lungs with air. I was almost there. I can do this. All I had to do was breathe. If I held on a little longer I’d see her. I’d be with her soon if I just held it together. I can do this. The tightness in my chest, loudly told me otherwise. Shit. Quickly, stumbling over furniture to reach the phone, I dialed numbers, in the same order that I had been for the past few days. Maybe, I need to hear her voice. That’s it. That’s what I need. I just need to hear her voice and that’ll help ease my mind. That’ll help me breathe. The phone didn’t ring long and that voice filled my ears. The voice that consumed my thoughts and dreams the past four days. The voice I couldn’t function without.
“Hello?”
It’s her. It’s Y/N.
My Y/N.
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*Y/N’s POV*
I lifted my purse, hanging it off of my shoulder as I contemplated which heels to wear. It was almost embarrassing how emotional it felt to see him again. As hurt as I was, I think I missed him more. I knew I missed him more. The phone rang obnoxiously, startling me, yet still, I practically danced over to it. Thankfully, Janet had already left or else I would never hear the end of it. I was confident that I’d hear his sweet voice on the other end and as much as I didn’t want to admit it out loud. I couldn’t wait.
“Hello?”
I held the phone close to my ear, waiting to hear him.
“Hello? Michael, is that you?” A deep rooted emotion began to flood my senses. One that I hadn’t felt in a long time, one that I had hoped I’d never feel again.
“Michael?” The faint sound of wheezing was the only response I got. It was all I needed.
I didn’t think twice. I didn’t say anything else. I took off in a sprint. As fast as I was moving it still felt too slow. When I reached the stairwell, the images from years ago flashed through my mind. As my hands gripped the cold steel railings, I remembered the feeling of the shattered pieces I cleaned off the floor that night. The damp remnants left on my shoulder from his tears all those years ago, causing my body to run cold at the memory.
Finally, I reached his level, running down the hall and colliding with his front door. I was so worried I forgot to slow down. My hands struggled with the zipper of my purse, so I tore it open and dumped its contents onto the floor. The small silver key called to me. I yanked it off the patterned carpet, unlocking the door and shoving it open.
I didn’t have to walk much further into the room before my eyes landed on him. Michael, curled up in a fetal position, a towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair clinging to his face.
“Hey.” I whispered, gently touching his head. “I’m here. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.” I sat beside him as he pulled himself into my lap, his head resting on my thighs and I stroked his hair. “Just breathe. I’m here.”
“I— I ca— can’t.” The sadness in his voice tugged at my heart. I’d never heard it so broken before. I could tell he was scared. My presence wasn’t enough, he needed a little more.
“Focus on my voice.” I spoke calmly, lying down next to him. “Remember that night we snuck out to go camping?”
He didn’t respond, I didn’t expect him to. He had a strong hold on me as we laid close to one another. I could feel how lost he was in his thoughts. I needed to bring him back to me.
“I was so excited walking over to your house that night. I’ll never forget seeing you jump out of your bedroom window, you fell right on your butt. When you saw me, you shot up to your feet and acted like it didn’t hurt, you insisted that you were fine even though you were limping.”
This time I felt a slight nod from Michael, so I continued on.
“You brought the blankets and I brought the snacks. We had prepared all week for that night. I couldn’t wait to be with you, I wanted to stay up all night just to spend more time together. You spent four hours wrestling with the tent, because it wouldn’t stay up, you were so mad. We ended up sharing a sleeping bag and lying directly on the grass with no shelter, so we had a nice view of the sky. It worked out if you ask me, it’s the reason I love stargazing. You knew how much I loved s’mores, so you built a little fire in that empty soup can. It worked for a while too, until you—”
“It was you.” He spoke, gently interrupting my storytelling.
“Michael, we go over this every time. You kicked it.”
“Sweetheart, I love you, but you knocked it over reaching for the marshmallows.”
“Agree to disagree.” I laughed at our refusal to accept blame.
“You’re barefoot.”
“I wasn’t finished getting ready when you called. Then, I heard you, so I dropped everything and ran. I tried to get to you as fast as I could.”
“You got here at the perfect time.” He assured me, his voice was soothing as I felt his smile against my forehead. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
“I was so nervous that night. I used some of Jackie’s aftershave, I had Janet help me fix my hair and Latoya dressed me. That was going to be the night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was going to tell you how I felt. How I truly felt.”
“Really?” I adjusted my head to see his face. He smiled back at me, resting his back flat on the floor and pulling me to rest on his chest.
“I had my speech memorized.” I looked down, studying the ring on my finger, all the while I felt his eyes on me. “I was going to start off by telling you what an incredible best friend you are, how beautiful, kind and loving you are. How I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”
“We were thirteen.” I whispered.
“Yeah, we were, but I already knew.” I calmly started to move away from him, but he stopped my movements. “Y/N, I love you. I always have. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Michael—”
“I don’t want to live my life without you.” I closed my eyes as I felt him touch my cheek, his fingers were soft and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Old habits die hard. “I can’t live without you.” He murmured, all my worries melted away, long enough to feel how well we fit together. The tenderness of his lips sparked a warmth in my heart and an urgent need throughout my body. Our connection grew stronger the further we went. I looked up at him, watching him settle in between my legs. He placed his hand on my denim covered thigh, inching up to unbutton my bottoms. The effect of his touch quickly shifted, unleashing a wave of anxiety rather than pleasure.
“Y/N, look at me.” Janet grabbed my shoulders, giving me no choice, but to stop avoiding reality.
“He’s really not coming.” I spoke softly, I sounded lifeless. “I can’t believe he did this. How could he do this?”
Michael lingered above me, his lips curved slightly before I felt them on my neck and that’s when it hit me.
“Where were you?” I asked him.
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here now. And, I’m so sorry for being late.”
“You stood me up on our wedding day. I’d hope it would matter a little bit.”
I felt my body tense up as his moved against mine. Michael slowly pushed my top down my shoulder, hooking his finger underneath my bra strap. I became extremely aware of where this was going and it consumed me with panic.
I’m suffocating.
“Michael—”
“I missed hearing you say my name.”
“Michael. Wait. Stop!” I pushed him off of me harder than I intended to. It was abrupt, taking me by surprise as well. I felt like I was drowning and for the first time, Michael wasn't my life line.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Oh?” He readjusted his towel and looked at me as if he was asking me to explain further.
“Michael, I think I need time. We can’t act like it didn’t happen.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to go change and get some shoes on.” I smiled at him half-heartedly, gesturing to the wet splotches now littering my outfit.
“Sorry, I dripped all over you.” He let out a soft chuckle.
“It’s alright—”
“Wait.” His hand wrapped around my wrist, keeping me from escaping the awkward tension in the air. “Nothing I say, nothing I do is ever going to fix this, is it?”
“I— I don’t know.”
“Oh.”
“I think we have a better chance than most.” I whispered, trying to ease the pain of this situation.
“Can we still spend the day together?”
“I’d really like that.”
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*Michael's POV*
Y/N met me in the lobby after she had left to change her outfit. I was speechless. Wow. She looked breathtaking. A long lacy black dress hugged her curves, it had an open neckline and see through sleeves that covered her arms. I could not stop staring as she walked over to me. Although, it felt more like she was floating. Wow. She paired it with deep red heels that matched the color of her lipstick. A black hat resting on top of her head, shielding her face if she looked down just enough.
“Hi.” She stood in front of me and still I couldn’t find the words. 
“You– I– Wow. Hi.” 
“Are you okay? We can stay in if you don’t feel up to going out. I know the panic attacks are—.” She whispered with a small comforting smile.
“No. No. I just– Wow. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you. You look very handsome yourself.” Her fingers traced the red band around my arm. “I love that you still wear these.” 
“I’ll always wear them. They remind me of you.” Y/N smiled, curling her fingers around my bicep as we exited the lobby.
The journey to the museum was uneventful. It was full of meaningless conversation and heart wrenching glances. When we arrived I did my best to look as normal as possible, instinctively, my hand rested on Y/N’s lower back, keeping her close to me. Old habits die hard. We were ushered through a side door and I was able to make arrangements, so we had a whole wing of the museum to ourselves. I knew she’d love it. I couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.
I gave Bill a subtle nod, swiftly he fell back, giving Y/N and I more privacy as we roamed. I admired the way her eyes scanned the canvas before us, the way she nibbled at her bottom lip as she tried to understand it and most importantly how close she stood to me. Our arms brushed one another, breathing in her perfume made it seem like it would all be okay.
"Thank you for bringing me here. Wow, look at this one. I love it." The deep colors of the painting in front of us, matching perfectly with her outfit. Again, I was watching her more than the art.
“I love you.”
“I lo—Me too.” She smiled sweetly, her hands clasped together in front of her as she walked over to the sculptures. I noticed how she couldn’t say those words back to me, although it hurt, I couldn’t blame her. As much as I wanted to hold her hand I knew she needed distance, but I couldn’t let her forget that I was going to fight for her.
“Y/N, I’m so in love with you. I need you to understand that.”
“Michael, I know. You’ve been reminding me all day.”
“I believe it’s nice to hear. You deserve to hear it. I enjoy reminding you.”
“Okay, that’s very sweet. Thank you.”
“I guess some people don’t enjoy professing their love like I do.” I snapped.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She stopped walking and turned to me, her left eyebrow arched as she waited for an answer.
"It means that I've been pouring my heart out to you and the only response I get from you is 'I know' or 'thank you’. What's going on, Y/N, do you not love me anymore?"
"Jesus Michael."
"Well, what is it? What else should I do? Do you not want to be with me anymore? Do you want me to take you back to the hotel? Right now, I feel like I’m the only one trying to fix this."
"You're the one who broke it!"
"Y/N, baby—”
"Don't call me that!" She pointed at me as her bottom lip quivered. No. Please don’t cry. I can’t handle seeing you cry.
“You think I don’t know that I caused this?”
“This was a bad idea.” She shook her head, spinning on her toes and quickly walking towards the exit. “I can’t believe I thought—”
“No, it wasn’t! No! Talk to me.” I ran to catch up to her, grabbing her arms and standing in front of her.
“Michael—”
“Tell me why you’re shutting me out!”
“I don’t want to do this here.”
“Tell me!”
“Michael, stop—”
“Talk to me damnit!”
“Stop yelling at me!” Our voices bounced off the walls, I could feel the anger in her words. She hated yelling, arguing wasn’t her way. Y/N always preferred to talk things through, so I took a deep breath and spoke.
“The only way we can fix this is to talk about it. I want to fix this. I need to fix this.”
“You didn’t show up.” She said simply, her eyes not meeting mine.
“I know.” My grip on her arms loosening as I watched her contemplating what to say next.
“It felt like our wedding meant nothing to you. It didn’t matter. I didn't matter. You just vanished and you made me feel so rejected. That was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. I don’t understand why you did it.” Her cheeks now damp with tears as she fought to contain herself.
"I'm sorry. Y/N, I know I caused this. I know these are the consequences of what I did— I hate knowing I did this to you— It’s on me. You can’t say it— you can’t tell me you love me because I left on what should’ve been the most important day of our lives. I did that. I did it and I hate myself— I hate that you can barely look at me, but it’s my fault. I regret it with my whole heart. I should’ve shown up. I should’ve done it right. I should’ve made you my wife. I should’ve— I wish I did and I'm so sorry. I know I deserve it, I know I deserve for you to walk away for good but I’m still so afraid to lose you."
"The reason I haven't said it back isn't because I don’t love you."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you hurt me Michael. You hurt me in a way I never thought was possible. It was an unbearable pain that I never thought I'd have to endure, especially from you. That night, I didn't want to see you ever again, I thought I hated you, but you came to see me anyway. Once I saw you I forgot about that pain, I forgot about how angry I was, because all I wanted to do was run to you. All I wanted was for you to hold me and to forget everything that happened. Once I saw you, all was forgiven and when I heard your voice I was yours again."
"That's good. Right?"
"You don't understand." She shook her head, turning away from me, but I stopped her.
"Then explain it to me. Please."
"I love you so much that I'd forgive you without an apology, without an explanation. I love you so much that I'd accept pain as long as it meant that I'd still have you. I love you so much that l'd— I love you so much that I've allowed you to string me along all our lives."
“Y/N.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve hurt my heart.” She wrapped her arms around her waist as if to hold herself together.
“Y/N, this is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I know that, but we have both hurt each other in the past. Maybe I’ve caused you more pain, but that doesn’t negate the pain I’ve felt.“ Once the words left my lips I regretted it. She’s never hurt me.
“Well, maybe we should just walk away now, try to save our friendship before it’s too late.”
“I don’t want to go back to that. You don’t want that. I can’t. Y/N, you’re who I belong with. It has always been us.”
“I don’t know if I can handle it anymore. We couldn’t survive anymore pain. We couldn’t. Even as friends.”
“Y/N, I need you to believe me. I rather slit my wrists than cause you pain. I will never hurt you again.”
“Again.” She muttered, “It used to be I will never hurt you. Period.” She uncrossed her arms, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.
“I know.”
“Michael, I’m so afraid.”
“Of what?”
“I’m afraid of forgiving you, but I’m petrified of not forgiving you.”
“Y/N—”
“Why?” She interrupted me, her lips sucked in between her teeth. She was struggling to keep herself from falling apart in front of me.
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you show up?”
“I— I’m not sure.”
“Michael, please, answer the question.”
“I guess there were many reasons.”
“Many?” Her voice sounded helpless as she stepped further away from me. I never knew it was possible to see someone visibly crumble until now.
“Please. Baby— I mean Y/N, please don’t cry.”
“What were the reasons?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Then, I’m leaving.”
“Stop! Please, stop walking away from me.” I ran, blocking her path, my hands cupped her face gently. “I know you don’t want to leave. I know you don’t mean it. I know you.”
“Yeah, you know me so well.” She rolled her eyes out of frustration, lifting her chin up and away from my grasp.
“Y/N, what do I need to do?”
“Please, just explain it to me, tell me the reasons.” I shook my head, looking down at the floor. “Why not?”
“Because I’m trying to fix us, not break us.” I tried holding her hand, surprisingly she let me.
“What does this look like to you? We’re already pretty broken.”
“Exactly. I don’t—”
“I need to know why in order to move forward. I need to know, so I can let it go. I need to know so I can try to forgive you.”
“I don’t see how that will help, it’s like you want me to hurt you. All day, you’ve kept me at a distance. You’ve barely looked at me. Have you thought about how that makes me feel?”
“Are you really trying to compare standing me up on our wedding day to me trying to figure out how to forgive you?”
“Are you trying to hurt me on purpose? Is this your way of getting back at me? Getting even?”
“If you truly think I’d do something like that, plan to hurt you as a way of evening out the playing field then you don’t know me like I thought you did. If that’s what you think, then we shouldn’t even be here right now.”
“It’s not. Y/N, I know you would never do that.”
“Then why’d you say it?”
“Because I’m frustrated. I fucked up. Okay? I really fucked up. I ruined this and I’m struggling to ignore the possibility of not being able to fix it.”
“Me too.”
“At least there’s one thing we agree on.”
“Yeah, little victories.” She smiled weakly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“It’s difficult being so close to you yet feeling so damn far away.”
“Mhm.”
“I wish I could jump on my bike and ride down to Burger Grill. Your go-to order, a big bag of fries, a milkshake with extra whipped cream and cuddles from your favorite guy. When we were kids, that used to fix everything.”
“Yeah, but we aren’t kids anymore.” She pressed her hand against her belly as she attempted to calm her breathing. “Michael, I can’t jump back in right away. I want to fix this it’s just— I feel so vulnerable. I don’t want to feel pain like that ever again. It’s nerve wracking being with you, but I’m trying. I really am. I want to be close to you but my mind won’t let me. I think— I don’t know— It’s like everything inside of me is at war. My heart hurts, but wants you, wants to forgive you. My body aches, but wants to be held by you—” I knew if I let her go on she’d end up inconsolable.
“I didn’t show up because I want you to be happy. More anything in my entire life I want the best for you. I want you to enjoy life and never have to experience anything less than pure joy. I want you to have freedom. You said you needed to know, so here it is. When I was with Frank that day, he went on this rant about how your life was going to change and I wasn’t preparing properly.”
“Okay.” She gently squeezed my hand encouraging me to go on.
“He was right. You’ll be my wife. That’s all. You won’t be able to work and I know how much you love your job. You won’t be able to make a simple trip to the grocery store or anywhere really at least not by yourself and I know how much you value your independence. You won’t have any freedom. Your privacy will be gone in an instant.”
“That’s all?”
“Well, yeah. It’s not easy. I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because those damn parasites were following you. The thought of you being dragged through the mud to the extent that I am— that thought killed me.”
“You could’ve come to me. We could’ve discussed it. Michael, I would’ve understood.”
“I know.”
“Why did you think that the solution was to not show up?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Because!” I yelled again. This is not going the way I thought it would.
“Because what!” She snatched her hand away from mine, looking back at me like I wasn’t me anymore, like I was a stranger.
“Because I knew if I showed up, I knew if I saw you— I knew that we would be married right now. I can’t think straight when it comes to you. Damnit, Y/N, I’m selfish when it comes to you. I needed to think about it. I needed more time. I know now that I shouldn’t have let Frank get in my head. I should’ve shown up and married you like we planned. I should’ve married you that day because that’s all I’ve wanted my whole life. I’ve always wanted you. I will always need you. I was so in my head that day, scared to do the wrong thing and I ended up making the worst decision. I always try to do what’s best for you. I’ve always put you first. Everything I do is for you. Believe it or not, at the time, I stayed away for you.”
“Wow. My hero.” She turned to walk away from me. Again.
“Y/N! Stop! Damnit, you can’t ask me these questions and get pissed with my answer no matter what it is! That’s not fair!”
“You know what’s not fair! This!” She held up her left hand, the engagement ring, a bitter reminder of what never was. “It’s not fair that I can’t bring myself to take this off! It’s not fair that I made my peace with everything that came with being your wife. It’s not fair that I accepted how drastic my life would change and chose to embraced it because at the end of the day we were starting our new life together. It’s not fair that you didn’t think the positives of being together outweighed the negative like I did. It’s not fair— all the reasons that made me so excited to marry you, so sure you were my person, were the same ones you used to add to your list of reasons to run. That’s not fair!”
“You’re right. Shit, you’re right.”
“That’s the thing. Michael, I don’t want to be right. I want us, together, to be right. I don’t know how to do it. I want to fix it. I just don’t know where to start.”
“Y/N—” I spoke delicately, but didn’t get to finish my thought. I was cut off by her crashing into me, her head rested on my chest, her arms reluctantly wrapping around my waist. I didn’t allow myself to be shocked for too long. I held her with all I had, rubbing her back, gently swaying her and hoping this wasn’t the last time I’d ever hold her. “I think we need more of this. It could help.”
“Mhm.” Her gentle sniffles felt like a punch to the gut. “It’s not easy keeping you at a distance.”
“I've missed you.”
“I've missed you too. So much.” Her hands moved slowly up and down my back. This was nice. “Janet’s crazy.” She muttered.
“You’re barely realizing that?”
“I guess I’m late to the party. She’s the best though. She offered to steal all your left shoes and shrink your clothes.”
“She what?” I gasped as she laughed into my chest. It felt so good to have her close and to hear her laugh again.
“I haven’t taken her up on the offer yet.”
“Yet? Wow! How kind of you. I feel so protected.” We laughed, together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. The melody of our laughter carried up to the tall ceilings of the building. We were surrounded by exquisite artwork from all over the world, yet I could not take my eyes off of her. I only wanted to admire her. My Y/N.
“I’ll always protect you.” Her tone serious and for the first time since everything went wrong, she looked back at me, her eyes as beautiful as I remember, lips parted slightly, skin glowing like the stars on a summer night. I found myself hypnotized. Carefully, I closed the space between us, becoming painfully aware of how deprived I was of her touch, desperate to taste her tongue and feel her lips.
“Michael?”
“Yes, what is it?” I asked cautiously, hoping we could live in this moment longer.
“You could never keep your lips to yourself.” She smiled, reaching down and intertwining our fingers. I sensed that she wasn’t quite comfortable with a kiss, so I settled on leaving one on her cheek.
“Would you consider spending more time with me tomorrow?” I asked, feeling nervous all the sudden.
“I think I can clear my schedule for that.” She teased.
“I have some work to finish up in the morning before the show. It'd be fun for you to join me.”
“Would it be acceptable for me to be there?”
“Of course! Come with me! You can see all the behind the scenes stuff. If you want— I’d like you there— I mean if you don’t want to— I want you to be— well if you—”
“Michael, I’d love to.”
“It’s for Moonwalker.” I spoke, looking down at my feet to hide my shy smile.
“No way! You’re finally making it? That’s incredible babe! I can’t wait to see it.” My heart fluttered at the nickname. I was sure it slipped out, but I’ll take it. Little victories.
"Thank you. It’s been incredible so far. The script has come together nicely and I’ve been able to get almost everything I’ve envisioned brought to life.”
“That’s so exciting. I can’t believe I’m engaged to, what is it a quadruple threat? What can’t you do?” The way she looked at me was out of this world. If we weren’t in a public place I would’ve been all over her.
“You’re making me blush.”
“Mhm.” She moved closer to me, her soft lips connecting with my jawline. Her movements were so soothing. My eyes fell shut as she planted small kisses down my neck.
“I could get used to this.” I joked, she giggled, gently pushing me away.
“You always had that about you.”
“What?”
“The talent of being so damn adorable that I forget why I was angry in the first place.”
“We’re going to make it.” The corner of my lip curved up as I stretched my arm out to grab a hold of her. “Y/N, we’re going to make it. We have to make it.”
“We will make it.” She responded softly, rubbing tiny circles into my wrist with her thumb.
We stood in an empty hallway, smiling at each other like two lovesick kids. It was a nice change. It was a moment filled with hope.
“I have a surprise for you.” An excited smile graced her face at my statement. I led her out to a small courtyard, where I’d set up a romantic lunch date for us.
“This is beautiful.” We walked down a small path surrounded by flowers and a small pond. She was practically jumping up and down. It was perfect.
“My lady.” I grinned, sliding out her chair for her.
“Why thank you.”
We sat enjoying our meal. I noticed Y/N had stopped eating a few minutes ago. She was in her head I could tell, so I did my best to let nature take its course. I couldn’t push her. I needed to let her work through it at her pace.
“Michael.”
“Yes?” She didn’t respond, instead she stood up from her seat and took a few steps over to my side of the table. “Y/N, is everything—” she paid no mind to my worry, carefully she sat on my thigh, her legs finding a place in between my own. Her arm slid across my shoulders, her gaze focused on me and a shy expression on her face.
“Michael?”
“Yes?”
“Could you, could you kiss me?” She asked nervously, like she thought there was the slightest possibility I would say no. I’d never say no.
“Y—yes, of course.” Nerves I never knew existed were now running through me at an alarming rate. My hands were trembling as I placed them on her. The moisture in my eyes suddenly disappeared, making me blink rapidly which I’m sure looked anything but normal. I removed my hat, placing it on the table and taking an audible deep breath. I must have been taken way too long because she spoke up again.
“I’m sorry. It’s okay. If you aren’t comfortable.” She shifted her body away from me, so I wrapped my arms around her. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“No.” I pulled her into me, her back pressed up against my chest.
“No?” She turned slightly to look at me and that’s when I kissed her.
Our lips laced together, perfectly, but only for a moment. We parted slowly, the kiss obviously had her feeling the same way I did. This was where I was supposed to be. Our gaze unfaltering, heavy with emotion and conveying the longing we had for each other. At the same time, the space between us disappeared and our bodies melted into one another. Eagerly, I grabbed her by the back of her neck and smashed my lips onto hers. Our connection deepening as her hands found a place at the back of my head.
As my fingers sunk into her hips, everything else faded away.
The only thing that could separate us, the only thing that could disrupt this moment was a tornado or maybe an earthquake. Neither of us wanted to be the first to pull away. We didn’t want this moment to be cut short. We wanted to soak in every piece of it because it was glorious.
“Michael!”
“A few minutes of peace was too good to be true.” She smiled against my lips, her hand sliding down to my chest and clenching a fist full of my shirt.
“Damn Bill. Should I— yeah I’m going to fire him. We’ll never be interrupted again.” I kissed her again, harder this time. Her giggles being replaced by soft moans. Oh, shit. We’re about to do it in the courtyard of a museum.
“Michael!”
“Son of a—”
“There seems to be a problem. I’m sorry to interrupt—” he stopped dead in his tracks, looking at us suspiciously before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Kids, there are windows everywhere!” He started pointing them out all around us. “You’re outside! In broad daylight!Anyone could see you two!”
“It’s fine. We weren’t doing anything.” I shrugged, tickling Y/N’s hip discretely.
“Sure. You’ve got lipstick on boy!”
“Oops.” Y/N looked so embarrassed, reaching to retrieve a napkin to clean me up. “You kind of pull it off though.” She whispered.
“Seems you’ve been found out. We need to get going before it gets out of control.”
“Well, that was fun while it lasted.” I’ve become used to adjusting my expectations, it’s just hard when I’m not the only one affected by it.
“It was! Look on the bright side, there’s nothing that went unseen. We got to do it all.” She’s so positive it’s impossible for some of it not to rub off on me.
She had her arm firmly around my waist, mine draped across her shoulders as we reached the exit doors. There was nothing I hated more than arguing with her, but if it would bring us closer together I’ll make an exception.
"Wait! Back up." Bill shouted, he opened the door for us just to slam it shut immediately. He aggressively pulled it until he heard the click ensuring it was secure.
"What is it?" Y/N asked, reinforcing her grip on my hand.
"We've got a bit of a situation dollface." Bill's tone was familiar to me, but not to Y/N. “Change of plans. What do you want to do?”
"How many are there?" I was frustrated to say the least. This was supposed to be a nice day away from everything, just the two of us. “It can’t be that bad. Can we make it work?”
"Enough. No, I’m sorry. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. I say we have Y/N walk out the main entrance by herself and we will get you out through the side entrance. They don’t know she’s here, so they won't bother her. She'll be safer if we split up."
"No. We're going out together."
"Michael, I don't think that's the best idea. You're playing with fire right now, son."
"Bill, she's my lady. I’m not sending her off on her own. She's safest right here. Next to me."
"Okay." Bill smiled proudly at my defiance. He had been furious at me, probably more so than anyone else. When I had him help me miss the wedding he refused to give me a moment of peace. He had lectured me for a whole six hours, saying I needed to man up and quit running away from the things I want. I never thought I’d see him that angry, I’d never given him a reason to be so disappointed in me. He repeated it over and over again, I had to stop making nonsense excuses to hide from good things in life or as he put it 'ruining my destiny.'
Damn, the old man, he was testing me. I guess I passed. Little victories.
“Let’s get out of here. Keep her close.” He shot me a stern look before leading the way outside. I nearly lost my balance when I took a step forward and Y/N didn’t move a muscle. Her eyes wide as she took in the chaotic scene we were about to walk directly into.
“I got you!” I shouted, so she could hear me over the commotion. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you!” I held her face in my hands, her hands gripped my wrists as she gave me a quick nod.
As we stepped through the threshold the number of people outside seemed to multiply. The screaming was deafening, my ears were vibrating and my teeth rattled uncontrollably. Y/N was struggling to stay on her feet beside me until I redirected her in front of me. People were reaching out to touch us and I could tell it was making her nervous. My hands firmly on her hips as our path shrunk significantly with each step. The crowd began pushing and pulling at us. I did everything in my power to comfort her, but it wasn’t enough. Suddenly, Y/N spun around wrapping her arms tightly around me.
“What’s wrong?” I spoke into her ear as she hid her face in the crook of my neck.
“I can’t see. My eye, there’s something in it.” I quickly looked down, she leaned her head back, staring up at me. Oh, no. Her eye squeezed shut, a crimson stream flowing down the right side of her face, I watched in disbelief as the thick substance dripped off her chin and down her neck.
“You’re okay.” I tucked her face back into my neck, cradling her head with my arm. “Bill!” When he turned to glance at me I held up my blood stained hand. After that, our journey through the crowd was an anxiety filled blur. When we finally made it to the vehicle, Bill guided us inside cautiously, jumping in after us and slamming the door shut.
“I’m so sorry.” I collected all the napkins in sight, with shaky hands I put pressure on the wound. I couldn’t see anything, there was so much damn blood. She just stared at me blankly. “I’m so sorry.”
“What the hell happened!” Bill roared, causing us both to jump.
“I don’t know.”
“I told you! I told you to keep her safe and you couldn’t even do that.”
“I did everything–”
“No you didn’t! You let her down again. You didn’t step up again. She deserves better!” 
“Please stop.” Y/N muttered.
“She trusted you to take care of her and again you hurt her! How could you let this—”
“Dammit, stop yelling at him!” Y/N’s voice reached an octave I had never heard before. She exhaled deeply, intertwining our fingers as she pulled me closer, her head resting on my shoulder. The warmth of her body sent shivers down my spine as she leaned against me. “Someone threw something. It isn’t his fault. It happened so fast. I didn’t even see it. Michael didn’t let me down, he never has.” It felt like her last sentence had deeper meaning. Whether that was her way of sending me message or not, she definitely sent one to those around us.
Her and I are a team. There’s no denying that.
“I’m sorry dollface.” Bill spoke as he concentrated his gaze out the window.
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The vehicle hadn’t come to a full stop before Y/N grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her. I struggled to keep up, weaving through people, hopping over furniture. We barely made it into the elevator. Y/N was panting, incessantly hitting the button until the door began to shut just as we saw Bill trying to catch up with us.
“That was fun!” Her laughter filled the small space, she backed into the wall sliding down and holding her belly. I took a seat across from her, the way her cheeks shimmered under the flickering light had my full attention.
“It was.” I agreed, she studied my expression, stretching her arm out to press the emergency button. The familiar way the floor vibrated and that look in her eyes made me feel like I was on top of the world. She held her hand out to me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I think you have a concussion.” I joked.
“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. The blood made it seem worse, but I’m good. I promise.” She moved to rest on her knees in between my legs, beaming at me, unrushed and uninterrupted. Her fingers curled around mine. “I don’t have it in me to hate you Michael. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”
“Neither have I.”
“Why is everything so complicated then?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
The cool steel wall pressed into my back, the warmth of her hands made my chest feel like it was set on fire, my eyes never leaving hers as she glanced down, studying my lips. Her guard slowly being let down the longer I held her. We sat there for what felt like hours, each second better than the last.
“You’re not an idiot.” Y/N’s voice sounded just above a whisper as our noses touched.
“I’ve made mistakes.” My voice cracking at my vulnerable position. “You do deserve better.”
“Michael–”
“I was kidding myself to think I’d ever be enough for you.”
“You made a mistake.” Her fingers traced the line of my jaw, keeping me from looking away. “It doesn’t mean you aren’t enough.” She mumbled, her shiny red lips communicated the rest.
She’s kissing me. She’s actually kissing me. My fingers were tangled in her silky hair as she tugged at my coat. I glanced at her briefly, she guided my hand to the zipper of her dress. Her skin was so soft, softer than I remember. Everything about her became even more beautiful than the last moment I spent with her. I can’t believe this is happening.
“We don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready. I’m just happy being with you again.”
“Michael, look at me.”
“Yes?”
“I need you.” Her voice is like music to my ears. I remembered the day I had said those exact words to her in this very elevator. “I need you closer.” She melted into me. The warmth of her thighs squeezed around my torso as I felt every emotion she felt, her lips never parting from mine.
“You’re sure?” I mumbled into her mouth, hoping she didn’t pull away from me.
“I’m so sure.” She grunted, tearing my shirt open, the sound of the buttons shooting against the walls masked by echoes of pleasure.
“Wait.” I pulled away, reaching the emergency button, and the elevator began to carry us up again.
“What— oh my goodness.” Y/N jumped up, readjusting her dress, she moved to zip it up and that’s when I stopped her.
“I’d leave it undone.” The elevator paused at our floor, I picked her up quickly, running down the hall to the room. Y/N was laughing, gripping my back tightly as I squeezed at her thighs that were wrapped around me. She moved to suck on my neck and I nearly dropped her at the sudden feeling of her tongue. I pushed her against the wall, my lips finding hers while my free hand aggressively twisted the doorknob.
“Michael, open the door or I’m gonna take your pants off right here.” 
“I’m trying.” Her laugh grew louder and uncontrollable while she watched me fight with the door. “This damn door.” I put her down, using both hands to push the damn thing open.
“Michael–”
“I got it!” She clung to me as I moved us inside, locking the door behind us. 
“You’re cute.” I felt her say against my lips. Her arms wrapped tightly around me as I walked backwards, chuckling every time she apologized for stepping on my toes.
“You’re—” We tumbled backwards, the corner of the mattress catching my leg unexpectedly as I led the way to the bed. We landed on the floor, Y/N carefully rolled off of me, cuddling into my side. Now, here we are, on the floor. Again.   
She’s actually here. Her body pressed against mine. The rise and fall of her chest brought me a great sense of comfort, one that I had been stripped of in the last few days. I can’t mess this up. I can’t lose her. I can’t make any more mistakes.
“That was smooth.” She said in between her fits of laughter. “It looked like you did a backflip. Are you okay?”
“God, I missed your laugh.”
“I missed you.”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Spending the day with me. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“My heart belongs to you. That never changed.” She placed a gentle kiss at the corner of my mouth, but it ended way too soon.
“I hope it never does.”
“It won’t” She whispered, then it happened again. She looked into my eyes and the world stopped. She slowly leaned down, her lips connecting with mine. She clenched her fingers around my collar, pulling me on top of her, spreading her legs open in one swift motion. My body began to shiver as I settled in between them. Her forehead scrunched up when I pulled away, she studied my face while touching my cheek lovingly. “What’s going on in there?” she lightly tapped my temple. A worried expression grew on her face.
“I’m just thinking.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I can’t wait to start a family with you.” The whites of her eyes became more visible, her lips parted slightly as she obviously struggled with what to say next. “They’ll be brilliant. They’ll be beautiful. The more they inherit from you the better.”
I scanned every detail of her face, until her eyes captured my attention. I remember the first time I stared into them, I got lost, I became a sputtery mess. Her eyes enveloped me in a sense of warmth I’d never felt before. A sensation I only feel with her. Then, she smiled at me. My heart could barely take it, it pounded so hard I was sure she could feel it. I remember the first complement I gave her. “You’ve got a real pretty smile.” It slipped out, but I meant it. Oh, did I mean it! Y/N scrunched her nose and turned away when she nervously thanked me. She had me wrapped around her finger from that moment forward.
“That’s kind of— wait, are you saying you want to start trying for a baby?” Her voice was low and her expression difficult to read.
“I’d like to marry you first. That is, if you’ll still have me.”
The anticipation consuming me as I awaited her response was peaceful because I knew what the future entailed.
Our future.
Now, I truly understood and believed in the idea that sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.
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maryfailstowrite · 3 months ago
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Rose's quote in the crossword of the literature insane girl MV will never not fail to amaze me. I absolutely love it and here's why:
"Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum."
First with the basics: "Cogito, ergo sum", the original (not really, because the real original was in french, but whatever) quote by René Descartes, translates into "I think, therefore I am". I don't think the meaning needs much explaining, because it's just... that. It's one of the first principles of Descartes's philosophy, and it states that one's existence is certain because to think, beforehand you need to exist. You can't doubt your own existence because to doubt, you need to exist. It's as simple as that.
But this interpretation of the phrase has little to do with Rose's character. There's a word (or maybe two, but I'll get to that later) that the MV adds, and that changes the whole meaning of the phrase.
“Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum.”
Rose’s quote translates into “I think, therefore I am (troubled).” This is not her doubting her existence or whatever, this is about her memory. “Thinking” here isn’t meant as in literally just thinking, but as in Rose’s thought processing and reasoning. Her photographic memory makes her have an overload of information to process at all times, and after processing it, she’s unable to discard it no matter what. She’s troubled, troubled because no matter what, she can’t forget. Every murder, every drop of blood, every gasp, every word is engraved in her mind, and no matter how hard she tries, she’s doomed to remember it all for the rest of her life.
A lot of people see having a photographic memory as a blessing. Almost like a superpower. They think of detectives solving murder cases because they remembered the exact position of one of the curtains at the victim’s house, or in Rose’s case, they imagine her making perfect replicas of a painting just after seeing it once. And, sure, maybe she can do that. She is the Ultimate Art Forger, after all. But I still think her photographic memory is much more a curse than it is a blessing for her.
Humans aren’t made to remember. We are made to forget a very big part of our lives, in fact. Do you remember exactly every meal you’ve ever had? Every shower you’ve taken? Every outfit you’ve worn? No, of course not. You don’t. Just like you don’t remember every single time someone has given you a strange look, or every time you’ve done something embarrassing.
Do you see where I’m going with this? Forgetting is a coping mechanism. Not only does it prevent our brains from overloading with useless information, it also helps us heal from bad experiences. If we remembered every single detail from all of our bad past experiences we would go insane, we would never heal from those memories and emotions. We could replay the memory over and over and over again to analyze what could’ve been different, what we could’ve done in another way, and what we could’ve ultimately done to avoid the situation. But as humans, we forget. It takes time, but the details start to fade one by one, and by the end, the bad experience is just a foggy distant memory, a mix of lingering feelings and a blurry outline of what happened, an outline that can’t hurt us anymore…
Except for Rose. Rose remembers everything. This is why the world is so overwhelming for her (let alone the killing game). She dozes off half of the day because if she wasn’t sleeping, she’d have to remember everything that happened at that time. I think it’s easier to picture it if you put it like this: Imagine if you were forced to memorize every single thing that happened around you for a day. Not just what you do, but what everyone in your view and hearing range does. It sounds exhausting, right? Well, welcome to Rose’s mind.
Rose is troubled because she can’t forget. Or rather, she remembers, therefore she’s troubled (see the parallelism I did there with the quote we’re analyzing???? see it????). She’s condemned to remember every detail of everything that has ever happened to her, to replay moments like movies and analyze them until she finds out what could’ve been better, what could’ve been worse, what she could’ve done different. The problem is, the past is the past, and no matter how much you replay it, it never comes back. It’s just an illusion, a nightmare that appears in front of you, and yet you can never reach. You can just watch as it unfolds, unable to change it, unable to do anything, unable to look away. She can never look away.
As an ending to this post, I’d like to take a closer look at another detail. The original phrase is “Cogito, ergo sum”, as it’s already been stated before, but the version used in the MV is “Ego cogito ergo (turbatus) sum.” “Ego” simply means “I”, so it doesn’t add much meaning (in fact, the original French is “Je pense, donc je suis”, so the pronoun was already there from the beginning), but I still think adding it emphasizes the meaning they want to give to the phrase. It refers to Rose’s personal experience, so instead of making it a general quote anyone can say “I think, therefore I am (troubled)”, they emphasize the personal meaning of it by adding the “I”, which can be perfectly omitted in Latin without losing the phrase’s meaning. It’s something more like “I think, therefore I am (troubled)”, and I think it’s a great detail to see how different Rose’s experience of existing is compared to everyone else’s, or at least, how different she considers it to be.
In conclusion, I’m a nerd that loves looking too much into things. Thanks for coming to my TED talk 🫶🏻.
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