#youre going to be standing in a wasteland and asking why no one likes your show anymore

[greensupremetangerine]

PSA that harassing, bullying, and kicking a person out of a fandom is toxic behavior. A difference in opinions does not warrant anonymous hate, and claiming it wasnt that bad and there's no proof because they didn't post the hate doesn't retract the fact that something happened to make them deactivate their account.

Fandoms are supposed to be places of community, enjoyment, and celebration of a mutually liked piece of media. There isn't room for hate, because the concept of a fandom does not naturally account for it.

If someone says something you dont like, it does not give you the right or responsibility to "put them in their place" or "teach them what's right" or whatever. A person is allowed to have their own thoughts and opinions. You can retort, discuss, disagree, hell you can even block them, but for the love of god don't single them out and make them a villain. It doesn't automatically make you the right side if they stop talking.

Also, the anonymous button isn't for keeping the blame off yourself. It's not for sending a dozen death threats while still looking pretty and proper on your blog. The person recieving anons has no way to disengage from the conversation. They cannot block, the best they can do is disable anons and stop the kind, shy people from asking silly questions or hope you give up and stop. The last resort is completely deleting your account, and again, its not a sign of your victory, it's a sign of the fandom' loss, and it is a sign that you are the vicious aggressor.

If youre struggling to stop doing these things, by no means am I a saint or a therapist, but removing yourself from the situation and letting yourself breathe, even for a moment, will probably help a lot with your relationships and mental health. I'm a believer that people can change and it is in human nature to do so, even if it's hard. It's a conscious decision to be a good person (I'm not calling you evil) and being a kind person is fulfilling in amazing ways.

tl;dr don't harass people :( it doesn't give you the high ground and it makes the fandom a worse place.

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Apples [Yandere Shinigami Light Yagami x Reader]

Title: Apples [Yandere Shinigami Light Yagami x Reader]

Synopsis: The inhuman thing that calls itself Light Yagami won't leave you alone.

For Horrorfest request: Reader thats haunted by Shinigami Light Yagami please!

Word count: 800ish

Notes: yandere, stalking

“Leave me alone.” 

The words come out bitter and soft, like a piece of fruit that’s been sitting at the bottom of the fridge for far too long. They smush inwards like overripe flesh underneath your thumb, from the weight of the creature hovering in front of you, the inhuman thing that refuses to go away for good.

Sometimes he leaves for a few days, a week, even a month or two. Long enough that you think he’s finally gotten bored or died–can Shinigami even die?--and you’ll never see him darken your doorway (literally and otherwise) again.

But then he’s there, an unwanted flicker. Standing by your bed. Sitting on your professor’s desk, a prim smile on his face. Waiting behind a shelf at the grocery store, in the gap between open boxes of cereal. Intruding on your everyday life with his awful extraordinariness. 

“Aren’t you even the smallest bit grateful?” He asks, not for the first time, shifting towards you. He’s too close. When he speaks, his breath hovers, smelling of apples and rot. 

You press further away, tucking yourself into the corner between your bed and the wall. The edge of your nightstand digs into the flesh of your upper arm. 

“I don’t want you to follow me,” you say, pathetically, stupidly, because you know it will change nothing. It hasn’t before. It won’t know. “Find someone who will be grateful, if it matters that much to you.”

That’s your dream, really. That he will find someone else to follow, to obsess over, to whisper awful things to in the night; dreams of a reinvisioned world, remaking the world of mortals in an image that suits him. You’ll be there, too. Forever, he says, even if he hasn’t figured out how just yet. 

But no matter how much you plead, how much you try to make yourself unappealing, this thing–it calls itself Light Yagami, and isn’t that awful, to give itself a human name?--won’t leave you alone. 

A clawed hand reaches out and you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s easier not to see him when he touches you. That much you’ve learned. Because when he does, the look on his face gets too tight, too manic. His eyes go a touch red and there’s something inside them that is too awful to bear.

The claw drags down your cheek, resting underneath your chin and tilting it up like a lover would. It makes you sick, this gesture; it’s too practiced, too human. How did a Shinigami know what might make someone go weak at the knees?

And you do–you do–for all the wrong reasons. 

“You can learn to be grateful,” he whispers, voice going low, almost gray. “I’ll even teach you how to use my notebook properly.”

Oh, that fucking notebook. It’s what started this whole mess. It was just sitting there, on the park bench. You’d walked by that bench a million times and nothing was ever out of place, but the one day there’s something new–it’s something that’s condemned you to this.

To him.

All you’d done is pick it up. Touched the edge of it, wondering if some kid has left it behind. But instead of a name written on the front, there was only an odd title. 

“Death… note?” You’d read–and by the time you glanced back up, he was there, suddenly, in a blink.

Smiling politely and introducing himself, as if he wasn’t some creature that had popped up out of nowhere. Came from nowhere a more accurate statement, if his brief descriptions of his world were anything to go by–a vast gray rotting wasteland.

“You wouldn’t like it there,” he told you once, musing more to himself, you thought, than actually speaking to you. He liked to hear himself talk. “That’s why I’ll remake this world instead.” As if he did anything for your benefit, and not his. 

If only you’d passed on by the bench, by the notebook, that day.  You might be free from all this. 

But you’re not free. You’re here, in your bedroom, trapped between the wall and a god of death.

“Open your eyes,” he says, just tightly enough that you know he’s approaching the edge of his patience. It was much harder to be around him, when he was genuinely angry with you.

Weary, tired, your eyes open, slow and sluggish. You give in, like you always do. What other choice do you have? 

“There you are,” he says, claw tracing your cheek, just underneath your eye. “Much better.” 

His other hand reaches for yours, covering it with his own, gripping tight.

“Are you ready to write a name in my notebook now?”

[cys-fic-library]

Nighttime Affairs (The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Reader)

You and the Ghoul, Cooper Howard, have a complicated relationship with each other. One which involves him paying you some nightly visits when he passes on by that little home of yours out in the lonesome wasteland.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, bit of orgasm denial, bit of dirty talking, creampie, biting (its cooper i dunno what you expect, he's going to bite you), oral - reader receiving, complicated relationship, bit of yearning/pinning, fluff, cuddling, kissing, splash of angst, not beta read

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x gn!afab!Reader (reader's gender is never mentioned but they do have a vagina)

Wordcount: 4256

a/n: made the smut a bit angsty at the end there by mistake. whoopsie daisies. Anyway, like it says above readers gender is never mentioned. But they do have a vagina (because I have a vagina, and I want to fuck the ghoul). Nothing about reader's chest is ever mentioned either. Also I usually write fluff/non smut fics, and only tend to post that. I have written smut before, but this is just my first time actually sharing some of it. So like ;-; Okie dokie? okie dokie.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics (much love j ❤️)

Nights in the wasteland were always a deadly affair. All sort of creatures made themselves known—both human and non-human alike—never having the friendliest of tendencies. It was why you always made sure that your windows remained boarded up. Double checking the door of your home to be firmly locked, before finally making your way to bed.

You always kept a gun hidden beneath your pillow as you slept. Easy to grab in case of a break in. Acting like a sort of safety blanket. Hoping that such a comfort would help you sleep soundly, though most nights you still found it difficult. Restlessness haunted you. Plagued your mind. Never truly able to rest easily—not with danger lurking around ever dark corner. 

 Sometimes that unease proved helpful. Such as tonight, while on the brink of sweet slumber, there had been a shift in the room. The sound of worn floorboards creaking jolting you awake. It wouldn’t be the first time some wanderer had tried to get the jump on you in the middle of the night. 

Hand quick to grab your gun, you point it at the new body in the room. Adrenaline pumping in your veins. Heart on edge. Ready to fire at a moment's notice. 

“Easy there sweetheart.” 

Your tired eyes blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to clear away your sleep clouded vision enough to properly comprehend the familiar figure currently standing in the center of your tiny room. 

“Cooper?” 

The Ghoul grinned at you in the darkness. Hazel eyes almost seeming to shine from the moonlight that managed to filter in. His head had tilted to motion to the gun in your hand. An amused hum leaving him. “Bit of a rude way to greet your guests.” 

“Wouldn’t call you much of a guest.” You lowered the gun and rubbed at your face with a sigh. “More of a nuisance if anything.” 

“Aw, your words wound me darlin’.” His words drawn out and mocking, as he feigned being hurt, before he had turned from you to continue removing his gear. Setting it all wherever he liked in your room. Acting almost as if he owned the place. Not a care in the world that he was currently invading your home uninvited. Again. 

You could only seem to roll your eyes as you watched him. “What are you doing here so late?” 

“Oh just passin’ through.” The Ghoul said with a casual hum. Pulling out his own gun, its barrel glinting just as his gaze had earlier, before he set it on your nightstand. The tossing of his hat onto your bedpost quickly following. “Needed a place to stay.” 

It hadn’t been a question. He wasn’t asking. Never really did when he chose to invite himself into your home. It used to scare you way back when you first met the Ghoul. You never knew if the next time he came would be the one where you met with a bullet. 

But you learned quickly that Cooper only ever did what he felt he needed to. Wouldn’t take the life of someone he found to be useful. He didn’t kill pointlessly like that. Everything had a reason with him. Even if you couldn’t quite see it at first. 

“Well why don’t just make yourself at home then.” You grumbled. Annoyed. A bit more bite to your words then usual. Though it hadn’t seemed to phase him in the slightest. 

“Already on it sweetheart.” 

You glared at him, but he continued to barely pay any mind to it. As you went to put your own gun back beneath the pillow, you had laid down again. Rolling to face the wall, and letting out a tired breath, as you tried to settle. Let the exhaustion claw at your mind and allow your eyes to flutter close. Trying to ignore him just as he did to you. “Just don’t make a mess.” 

The Ghoul hadn’t replied. Which had been a surprise. He always seemed to have something to say. But there was none of that. Instead there was only the sound of more shuffling in the room before the bed finally shifted with his added weight. Pulling you back from the brink of sleep just enough, as he joined you among the tattered sheets.

 Your bed was cramped. Meant for only a single soul, and yet that never seemed to bother him as he fit himself in how he liked. It didn’t take very long for you to feel the press of his cool body against yours. An arm finding itself around your waist, as lips sought out your neck and trailed over your skin. 

“Sleeping.” You said. Quiet. But still you shifted. Legs parting ever so slightly. An invitation you knew he wouldn’t refuse. 

You allowed him to take what he wanted—his true reason for being here—and he did so greedily. Without any ounce of hesitation, bare fingers smoothing down and slipping past the waistband of your pants into their front. Immediately finding the prize he wanted. Your breath hitching as they ghosted over your clit. Teasing. 

“Then sleep.” Lips caressed your ear. His breath hot on your skin. Rough hands had molded you into his liking. Feeling yourself growing wet beneath his fingers all too quickly, as two of them slipped into your heat at first chance. “Don’t bother me, none.” 

Desire bloomed inside you. Arousal coiling tight. He left marks where he could. Harsh kisses that had teeth grazing your skin. Fingers moving inside of you to pull any sound from your lips that he could. Touching you in ways that had you burning, as if you would be engulfed in flames at any second. Toying with your body and purposely bringing you so close to the edge without ever actually bothering to send you over. 

“Stop teasing.” You had shifted again. Trying to provide more space for his devilish hands.  Moving yourself against him to seek the feeling you so desired—that last bit of pleasure that he denied you so easily, and would continue to do so. 

“I thought you were sleeping.” His words had a teasing tone to their depths, as he nipped at your skin. Pressing himself closer. Grinding. His own arousal hard against your hip. Just as worked up as you were it seemed. But somehow still not nearly as desperate. 

“Was trying to.” You sighed out a moan. Leaning impossibly close into him. Hand gripping at his wrist tight as he worked you. Letting his touch consume your very being. “Hard to sleep with someone messing around in my pants.” 

The Ghoul chuckled. “Well let’s fix that then.” 

And suddenly his hands were slipping away. 

You felt your eyes open at the loss of him. Hadn’t even realized they were still closed until that moment. You had gone to protest. Reaching out in the darkness to try and stop him from leaving. But he hadn’t gone far. He had moved you to lay fully onto your back before you could really react. Your pants and underwear removed by him in an instant. Lost to the dark depth of your room's floor. Not to be seen again until morning light. 

The Ghoul loomed over you. Eyes amused, and hands gripping your thighs. He spreads your legs out for himself wide. Exposing your arosural bare before his gaze into the open room. Fitting himself comfortably in between. Almost like there was nowhere else he belonged in the world. Ready to devour you whole. 

And what was worse is that you’d gladly let him do so too. 

“Fucking filthy thing you are.” He had whistled as he looked down at the debauched display he had made of you already. Fingers moving below to run along your dripping lips. Sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. “You’re soaking and yet I’ve barely done a thing.” 

You couldn’t help but squirm a bit beneath him. He hadn’t bothered to remove any of his own clothes, save for the jacket and gloves he must have tossed somewhere in your room. He never really did remove his clothes when fucked you. Couldn’t remember anytime you had even seen him without a shirt. 

At first you thought he had been shy over his predicament. He wouldn’t have been the first ghoul you met to have struggled with the change after all. But that had been a foolish thought, because Cooper Howard wasn’t ever shy. It was just another thing he couldn’t be bothered with. 

It wasn’t worth it to him to remove, simply put. Probably even still had his boots on at the moment. Trucking sand and only god knows what into your bed. You’d usually lecture him for it. But like with many things tonight, he wouldn’t give you the chance. 

Before you knew it he had leaned down to put his mouth on you. Sucking at your clit. Lips and tongue working you in all the right places. Fingers gripping your thighs to keep you open for him. Devouring you whole, almost like he had been starved for days. 

It didn’t take much of this for you to be brought to that edge. It had been so long since you last saw him—last had him—and his skillful tongue had your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your one hand fisting the sheets below while the other reached for his scarred head. Pulling him in impossibly close. Trying to keep him there. But true to his nature just as you felt those sparks begin to fly he stopped. Lips leaving you and letting your pleasure fall. Hot breath only fanning over your soaked folds. 

He did this often. Riled you up to the point of breaking. Allowing your pleasure to grow high before sending it crashing down again suddenly. Denying that bliss you always found yourself so desperate for when with him. 

Most nights you were brought to tears by it. Begging him to let you have that sweet release. Frustration with his teasing at its peak. Tonight you did not beg or plead though, not yet at least, instead you sat up to lean onto your elbows. Insult for him at the tip of your tongue, ready to lecture him for all he was worth, but any complaint you had quickly died in your throat.

 The Ghoul had bit your thigh. Hard. Whether to silence you, or just because he wanted to, you didn’t know. You just gasped. Trying to pull away, though his hands remained firm. Fingers digging into your skin almost too harshly and holding you in place. Only finally pulling back just enough to swipe his tongue over the mark he left. 

You had winced from the pain, the mark aching, but despite it your arousal only seemed to course through you still. Stronger even. “That was just mean.”

“You like when I’m mean.” He smirked as he sat up again to overlook you. Your blood still staining his lips. “Besides, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Remember?” 

“Yeah and who’s fault is it that I’m not?” 

“No idea what you mean sweetheart.” The Ghoul had let go of your legs then. Leaning back onto his knees to free himself. Belt unbuckling to pull out his aching cock. Squeezing himself briefly before guiding it to your drenched hole. Teasing at your folds.  “Just here enjoying what was given to me after all.” 

It was quick the way he entered. No ceremony or grace. No time to say another single word between you two. Barely gave time for you to gasp again. Sending a shock through your system. He didn’t wait. Thrusts downright filthy as he took you all for himself. Both of your moans and heated breaths filling the room. The air suddenly feeling suffocating and hot. 

Your hands had gripped at his forearms, hoping to ground yourself and failing miserably, all while his own fingers dug into your hips. You tried to meet his own cruel thrusts, but the rhythm he had set  was unrelenting. Pleasure all too consuming. He was right. You liked when he was mean. Liked how rough he was—enjoying how he just took and took from you. He filled you in ways that you knew ruined you for anyone else. And yet still you loved it all so very much. 

You were getting close again. Could feel your peak just at the horizon. Waiting to burst. You moved your hand. Fingers desperate to finally bring yourself that last bit of pleasure to send you over the edge that you’ve desired all night. The one he’s been denying you all evening. But of course he notices immediately. Knocking your hand away before you get any chance. 

“Not yet.” 

You all but whine at his words. Almost pathetically so. Tears finally prickling at the corner of your eyes from being denied by him once again. “Cooper.” 

“You know the rules.” He thrusts a little more roughly as if to punish you. A warning. “You take what I give you.” 

“Please.” 

“Look at you, the mess you are.” He groans out at your begging. Eyes burning hot with desire. Thrusts still unwavering.  “You’d let me do whatever I want to you if it meant I fucked you, wouldn’t you?” 

He had chuckled as you could only seem to nod. Clinging to him. Any kind of words from your lips caught between gasps and moans. You were so overwhelmed. The air was too hot. Everything felt too much but too little at the same time. And it was all because of him. The Ghoul who seemed all too good at taking you apart piece by piece. The mess you were was his fault, and he knew it—reveled in it.

 You could never seem to get enough of him, and he knew it too. He could give you everything or nothing, and you’d still thank him for each little bit of it. He was the same. Even if he would never admit it. He always needed more of you. Both of you were addicted to the other. Needed to feel him just like he needed to feel you. Like a chem neither of you could shake. Didn’t want to shake. 

Cooper’s thrusts had begun to grow sloppy now. His breathing more ragged. Hands squeezing your hips so tightly you were sure to bruise by morning. Your head was swimming. Drowning in the pleasure and losing it in the feeling of him. Mind too far gone to think of anything else. A mere mess of moans and gasps, as tears streamed down your cheeks. So close to unraveling at the seams for him. All just for him. 

When he reached his end he didn’t give you any kind of warning save for a low moaned fuck. Making sure to thrust into you deeply. As far as he could go. His cum filling you to the brim as he did. It was only then when his fingers found your clit again. Rubbing the nub in harsh brutal circles that finally sent you crashing over as well. Ripping your orgasm from your body like he was owed nothing less. 

“There you are, take all of me.” He groaned out as you squeezed and clenched around him. Breathless. Eyes watching how you came undone. Making sure to take in every bit of you that he could as you lost it beneath him. “Come for me darlin’.” 

Your nerves felt on edge as the pleasure wrecked through your system. Body shaking while you could only seem to cling to him tighter. Hands fisted into his shirt and your legs squeezing around his hips, trapping his form to yours all while riding out your orgasm. 

It wouldn’t be until the high began to dwindle where your mind would begin to clear again. A gentle throb at your core. Your body relaxed in his arms, limbs growing heavy, and breath beginning to return. The night's air starting to feel cool against your heated skin. 

He hadn’t pulled out yet. Just stayed inside with the mess he made, as you both came down from your pleasure. Your oversensitive walls still clinging to his softening cock despite how completely wrecked you felt. Eventually you had almost felt sticky laying there—covered in your own sweat and grim. You tried to move away. Trying to free yourself from his grasp, but the hand he still had on your hip stopped you. Squeezing gently. 

“Cooper-” You had begun to question him, eyes fluttering open and looking to Ghoul who still hovered above, but found yourself unable to finish when you finally met his gaze. Breath and words caught in your throat all over again. 

Intense. Soft. There was a strange feeling that swarmed there in his eyes. Something you weren’t quite used to seeing from him. Something you just couldn’t place. It surprised you when he leaned in. Made your heart flutter—stomach flip—as his lips found yours. 

The Ghoul rarely kissed you, and when he did it was rough. All teeth and bite, just like everything else about him, but this kiss wasn’t anything like that. There was an odd softness to it. So gentle, and unlike anything you had ever shared with him before, but it was good all the same. Left your heart feeling like it was going to fall out of your chest right then and there.  

 It had all been fleeting though. That fluttering feeling. That sweet kiss. Lips pressed to yours only for a moment before they were gone again. Like it had never happened in the first place. Just another piece of memories from him to add to your imagination. Never to be addressed. 

There wasn’t a word spoken between you as he finally pulled out from your sensitive walls. The touch of his body—his hands—leaving you, as he moved to settle at your side again. He didn’t look your way, but you couldn’t help lull your head over to gaze at him. Still stuck in that dreamlike feeling. Watching. Quiet as he leaned over the bedside to rummage around in his bag. Pulling out the vials you had seen him take so many times by now. 

You still hadn’t a clue to what they were really. Knew it kept him from going feral, but beyond that you knew nothing. Which is how he liked things typically. He never told you too much. That’s just what it was always like between you two. You hadn’t even known his name till quite recently. 

It was during one of the last few times he had visited, if you recalled. Between moans and bated breaths. Pleasure so close to reaching its peak when he first told it. Cooper. You still remember how desperate he sounded. Caught off guard by the unfamiliar tone from the Ghoul you were beginning to know so well.  Name’s Cooper darlin’. And you’d never forget the way he practically crumbled to pieces as you said the name back. Soul exposed to you in ways you never thought possible with him. 

Honestly, you didn’t even think he had a soul until that moment. 

The Ghoul hadn’t been back for months after that night. For reasons you could only guess at. There was a point where you didn’t think he’d ever be back to seek you out again. But of course he was always full of surprises. Almost half a year passed until you saw him again at your doorstep. Acting as if nothing had happened since last, like he hadn’t been gone far longer then he ever had before. Familiar bite and taunting words greeting you fondly. All back to his normal self—or what was normal of him to you at least. 

“Cooper?” 

He inhales the chem. Doesn’t pay you any mind in the slightest. Which is fine. Doesn’t stop yourself from shifting closer to him. Allowing for one of your hands to trail up his chest. You feel him pausing briefly at your touch, and your eyes meet his as he glances your way. He’s unreadable as he gazes at you, hazel eyes holding yours for a mere second, before they’re focusing back to his life saving vials. 

He doesn’t go to stop you though, so you take the chance to tuck yourself into his side. Head resting on his chest. Your eyes feeling heavy once more as you do. But still you don’t sleep yet. Not when you know how little time you have left with the Ghoul. So instead your fingers draw shapes over him, and play with the button of his shirt he still never bothered to remove. 

“Thought I told you to fuckin’ sleep.” His voice brings you away from your thoughts, as he finishes up with his chem. Sounding almost annoyed, probably was, he’s not one for showing much bouts of affection after all. Doesn’t even really like when you’re clingy either. But somehow that still doesn’t stop his free arm winding itself around your waist. Holding you close.  

“Cooper…” 

“Sleep.” The Ghoul’s voice had been quiet but firm. He had pulled his hat from the bedpost to wear again, tugging it to rest over his closing eyes. “Some of us got shit to do in the morning.” 

You didn’t bother to point out how he had been the one disturbing you up till this moment. There was no point in arguing with him though. He wouldn’t listen—a stubborn bastard through and through. 

Not that you could find a good reason to do so anyway. Especially not with how your eyes kept trying to flutter shut, or how comforting it felt laying there in his arms. Listening to his breathing. His very subtle heartbeat somehow loud to your ears. 

When sleep finally took you it would be peaceful for once. Something about knowing the Ghoul was there made you feel calm. Even though you knew that it should have been the opposite. He was deadly. Could kill you in a second. But somehow that hadn’t bothered you in the slightest. Not anymore, at least. Instead it made you feel at ease.

 Safe.

The sun would be barely rising as you woke to the early light. Gentle rays illuminating your small room in a warm orange glow. You had stretched, yawning, before naturally going to feel for the Ghoul that had invaded your home last night. His spot had been empty, of course, long grown cold now that he didn’t occupy its space. 

He never stayed for long. Any night he spent with you he was always gone before you ever had the chance of waking. It’s just how he was. How things were meant to be between you two. You had understood since the very beginning, all those years ago when first taking him into your bed. 

And yet still your fingers ran over the spot. An ache settling in your heart. You knew there was no reason to be sentimental. There was no reason to miss something that wasn’t truly yours. But there was a part of you that did. A piece of you that wanted more than this—wanted what you couldn’t truly have for yourself. 

The Ghoul, Cooper Howrad. You wanted him. More than just for sex. His heart, his soul. You wanted it all. Every piece of him. Craved it even. More than you ever desired something in your entire life. That thought of being his, and him being yours rattling around in that silly little heart of yours. 

He’d never allow it. 

Sighing, you pulled your hand away from his spot and sat up. Wincing. You had almost forgotten about it. The bite mark he left on your thigh still painful. Carefully you looked it over. He hadn’t taken a chunk out of you. Thankfully. Just left you looking like some sort of chew toy like he usually did. 

It wasn’t worth a stimpak. Not like you’d ever consider using one anyway for such a minor injury. It would be a waste otherwise, and being wasteful out here meant death even on a good day. 

Sometimes you wondered if that was why he marked you up so much. As if he knew you wouldn’t bother to heal them so quickly. You wondered if he enjoyed knowing that your body carried signs of him for days. Bites and bruises like some sort of possessive claim. Every mark from him a reminder of just who exactly had left them there in the first place. 

You doubted it all the same though, he probably just thought it was fun to bite and mark you up. Probably did it to everyone he spent the night with. You were sure there were others. Even if he’s never said so, you weren’t dumb enough to think otherwise, as sad as it made you to think about sometimes. 

Leaving bed, your morning would end up being the same as any other. You’d get yourself ready, tidy up the room, and eat what little food you had. After you’d work the day away. Maybe even head into town for a little bit before heading back home. The simple mundane routine so natural to you now that it went about like clockwork. Doing what you needed to survive before the sun would fall again. The moon taking its place easily in a sky painted by shining stars. 

And as you’d lay in bed once more. You’d look out to the wasteland through those cracks in the boarded window. Wondering if he’d show, eyes searching for any kind of sign of him. Waiting—hoping—for the Ghoul to arrive again. 

But of course, he wouldn’t.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Saw you took D&W- Gambit requests. 💜

Would you consider a mostly fluffy one where Reader was in the Void, caught feelings for Remy, & somehow got separated from him in the transfer to Wade's timeline, so they reunite after each thinking the other didn't make it? Like maybe Reader never outright said how they felt till after they thought they'd lost Gambit? Something like that.

🏆 Thank you! 🏆

separated

A/n: love this more than you know anon

Warnings: did a lotttt of canon switching for this one. So… yeah. Fem!reader, mentions of wounds and blood

REMY MASTERLIST | KOFI

“Oh, look at them. They’re so adorable together.” Wade pointed to the both of you with a smile on his face, Logan furrowing his eyebrows.

“They just met.”

“Have you ever seen any disney movie ever? Love at first sight? I’m just glad my girl is finally getting some. About time. After that one breakup…” he rambled on.

Logan didn’t reply, just rolled his eyes and tuned him out, eyes glancing back up at the both of you.

The crackling of the fire filled the air as you sat next to him, feeling the warmth radiating from the flames and his leg touching yours. In that moment, the worries you had about Cassandra Nova and the desolate wasteland around you faded away.

He sent you a small smile, eyes lingering on your lips for a little too long when you laughed. It’s only been a few days, and he swears he’s known you his entire life.

He’s never felt this way before, the feeling foreign to him. It makes his heart pound and his soul yearn.

And everyone can notice it except for you, how hopelessly in love he is with you, and you him.

During the battle, he’s sending you a smirk, both of you working together to kill them all.

You stand by his side until you’re suddenly pulled by Wade into the portal, Remy holding a hand out, as if to try and stop him from pulling you in.

Wade assured you that he was probably okay, but let it slip that maybe, just maybe he was dead. He immediately covered his mouth.

You stared at Wade, the thought not crossing your mind in your shattered state.

The belief that he was dead, the simple idea of it, had you sulking in your bed, grieving for weeks. Wade had come into the room throughout the time, giving you food, telling you stories, speaking about whatever he could to hopefully crack a smile.

“Nice talk.” He murmured out, patting your arm while he stood up, sighing and shaking his head to himself.

“No luck?” Logan asked him when he walked out, switching through the channels on the tv.

“No luck. Still depressed as ever.”

Logan thought for a moment, pausing on one of the news channels.

“Why don’t you just do the portal… finger thing. Go back to the void.” He shrugged, “see if he’s alive or something.”

“Portal finger thing… haven’t heard that one before.” He said suggestively, Logan rolling his eyes at the man.

“You’re disgusting.” He murmured, standing up from the couch and into the kitchen.

But the more Wade thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

That’s how he ended up dragging the bloodied, heavy, and tired cajun into his apartment.

“Okay, there we go.” Wade grunted out, carrying him to the table.

You strolled out, not paying attention when you walked out your room. Wade smiled, standing next to the man. You didn’t see either of them, still staring down at your phone as you walked past them and into the kitchen.

You didn’t know he was there until he let out a pained little murmur of “cher?”

You spun around at the sound of his voice, your phone dropping and your eyes widening in surprise. Wade still stood next to him, proud smile on his face.

“Sooo… happy birthday.”

You were speechless, only stuttering out a very quiet “Remy?”

“And me.” Wade chimed in.

Logan also came walking out, his eyebrow quirking at the sight of him bleeding onto the table.

“He’s- he’s bleeding!” You told Wade.

“Yeah, had to carry him in. He’s extremely heavy too. I’m convinced he is all muscle.” He spoke, you rushing to his side.

“Ah, it’s jus’ a scratch, don’t worry ‘bout me, cher.” He told you with a wave of his hand, small smirk on his face.

You shook your head at him, going into the kitchen and grabbing the first aid kit stashed in there.

“Why are you hiding first aid kits in my house?” Wade asked you with a quirked eyebrow.

“In case I needed them.” You shrugged it off, pulling out some of the things that you needed. You grabbed a rag, Wade groaning at how much of his kitchen supplies would be ruined after this.

You ignored him, focusing on the man who laid out in front of you. His injuries weren’t bad enough to be fatal, thankfully, but they still could probably very easily get infected.

He stared up at you while you cleaned off his wounds. You glanced down at him, offering him a small smile.

“Can you take off your… suit.. thingie?”

He raised his eyebrows at your words. “Ah, if you wanted me to take my clothes off, you coulda said t’at.” He said with a laugh, sitting up to pull off his jacket and his body armor.

You rolled your eyes at the man, lightly shoving him back down when it was done.

“You know, you worried the shit out of me, Remy.” You told him quietly, beginning to clean the wounds that were littered across his body.

“I’m sorry, cher. I didn’t mean to do dat to ya.” He spoke sincerely. “But, if ‘t makes you feel better, I worried ‘bout you more.”

You sighed, damn him and his charm, you thought to yourself.

After you had finished cleaning his wounds, he sat up on the table, looking at you walk around the kitchen for a moment before turning to him, offering him a cup of water, which he gladly took.

“Reunions are always my favorites.” Wade spoke dreamily, his elbows propped up on the table next to Remy, staring at the both of you with a smile.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the man.

“Except for family reunions.” He shuddered at the mere thought. “Disgusting. But… this is too cute. And I think we should all-“ he trailed off, still rambling on as he went into the kitchen, opening up the freezer.

“You wanna go up to the roof?” You whispered to him, to which he quickly nodded at in reply, hopping off the table and grabbing a random sweater strewn around while you both left.

“God, I’m just so excited that- and they’re gone. What the hell? Where’d they go?” Wade asked himself, a tub of ice cream in his hands. He sighed before his eyes landed on Logan, who had walked out at the worst moment possible.

“Peanut! You’re here!”

“What?” He grumbled out.

“Since y/n and her hot boy toy left, we are gonna have a movie night.” Wade practically dragged him out, ignoring his protests.

You giggled as you practically dragged him up the stairs, pushing past the doors and leading him to the edge of one of the buildings.

You both sat next to each other, legs dangling off the edge. He looked at you, soft smile stuck on his face.

“What?” You asked him, noticing his staring. He shook his head, looking ahead again. Both of you stayed looking at the stars for a moment, the sound of passing cars and chirping crickets filling the air.

“I… I thought that you were dead.” You told him finally, still staring ahead.

“I’m here now, ain’t I?” He turned to you now, his head slightly tilted.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed, “obviously. But…” you trailed off.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder with his own, making you look at him. “T’ey gonna need a lot more than dat to take me out.”

You chuckled again, him cracking a smile at the sound of your laughter.

You both stared at each other, gazing into each others eyes for what felt like an eternity. He was the one to make the first move, his hand gliding off of the cold cement underneath him, and moving towards your face, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched when he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours.

You were the one to smash your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Your lips moved against each other, finally getting the one thing you’ve been longing for.

You pulled away after a few moments, both of you softly panting, his hand still on your face, your lips still close to each other. “Is now a good time to tell you that I like you?” You asked him, him chuckling, pulling his hand away from your jaw.

“Remy likes you too, cher.” He told you. You sighed in relief, him turning to look back out at the stars. He pulled you closer to his side, and you put your head on his shoulder.

A/n: fuck yeah dude, this is what I call a comeback after not having written in forever

[alfredosauce50]

Dear, Sasha

[Russia x reader]

Wordcount: 11, 834

Content warning: Heavily explicit NSFW content. R18+ only.

Synopsis: Being born into Russian high society is just as much of a blessing as it is a curse. You live a life of comfort and luxury, but at the expense of your own happiness. Just when you think you’ve had enough, a man catches your eye, and looking at him is like looking into a mirror. You eventually meet him at a ball, and upon dancing with him, an intense, unspoken passion begins.

As you get closer to him, you start falling for his intelligence and sensitivity. But he keeps retreating within himself and running away, breaking your heart in the process. You eventually track him down on a train leaving Moscow, and in a fit of passion, you slap him across the face. Shocked by the magnitude of your feelings, he chases you with no intention of letting the fire die out.

Imperial Russia, 1875. A frozen empire on the brink of collapse. While the rest of Europe liberated itself from decadence and poverty, the state remained an antique of the past. There was still a stark division between high society and peasants. You either worked the land or went to dizzying ballroom parties until you went mad from the decadence of it all.

That was your life.

Only you always thought you were born on the wrong side of history. Not that you ever said it out loud, because how could you? Having come from a long line of nobility, everything was handed to you with a silver spoon. Money, lavish estates, a noble name, all inherited from the past generations of your family.

“Gilbert? Are you ready?” You marched down the hall, heels clacking against the floor. The dress you wore was white, off-shoulder, and poured elegantly down to your feet. Around your neck was a delicate string of pearls, and hanging from your ears was a pair of dainty earrings. Everything you wore was fit for a bride, which was fitting for your circumstances.

“Almost!”

You arrived at the doorway of your cousin’s bedroom, and the man himself was standing in front of a mirror, checking his appearance. He was in a white tuxedo, making for quite the dashing bachelor. For someone who had no absolutely no interest in being tied down, he always tried so hard for high society.

“Why is it that every time we go to parties, you’re always the last one out the door?” You asked.

“I’m not good with time, you know that.” He turned to you, arms stiffly by his sides. “So, how do I look?”

“Irresistible.”

“Good. You don’t look too bad yourself,” He walked over, getting you to let out a laugh. “Now let’s get going.”

“You know, I’m starting to get tired of these parties,” You admitted as you both descended the staircase. Waiting just outside the front door was the family’s horse and carriage. “Seems like an awful lot of effort to meet people you’ll never even talk to again.”

“No, it’s for when you accidentally bump into them on your train ride to and from Moscow,” He grinned.

“You got that right.” You mused.

It was lonely staying by yourself in Saint Petersburg. Every year when Winter came rolling around, turning the country into a snowy wasteland, it was practically unbearable. Fortunately, you had a cousin to share your pain with, and he just so happened to despise the country’s state of affairs as much as you.

“I’m really glad for you, Gilbert. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” You commented in the carriage.

“Of course you are,” He hummed, though his mirth only lasted so long when he caught the expression you had. It was a little sad, but perhaps you’d been that way for quite some time. “I know that look.”

You lifted your gaze to him quietly.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned in from across you.

“It’s nothing.” You sighed, turning away.

“It’s never nothing.” He plopped down next to you.

“Okay, fine. I just don’t know if this kind of life is right for me. All the socializing, the dancing, I just can’t take it anymore. I’m putting on some kind of persona so I’m not rejected from everything I’ve ever known.”

Gilbert softened his gaze as he listened to you speak. And you were right about everything. He wasn’t one to follow rules, or rather, he had quite the disdain for them. He was childish, eccentric, and had no qualms against staying that way forever. But high society was just as much of a curse as it was a blessing.

“Yeah.” He murmured, gaze falling.

If you didn’t fit in, you were as good as dead.

“Maybe I should’ve been a farmer.” You mused.

“Trust me. You do not want to be a farmer.”

“So I just marry rich and the end?”

“That’s how the world works, unfortunately.”

”That’s how Russia works.” You corrected.

“Yeah, but it worked out pretty well for the two of us, didn’t it? Look on the bright side.” The albino kicked back next to you. If you didn’t already know him, you’d say he was everything wrong with this country.

“You say that now, but when it’s your turn to get married, you won’t be this relaxed.” You remarked.

“I’m twenty-two. I still have time,” He closed his eyes. Not a moment passed before he opened one to look at you teasingly. “You’re running out of it, though. You’re telling me you’re a twenty year-old woman and still unmarried? There must be something wro-”

You glared at him and he shut up pretty quick.

“I just want to meet the right person, okay? Is that really too much to ask for?” You frowned again.

“Ah, you’re so old-fashioned, (F/N).” Gilbert almost swooned. “But that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Ever since your debut two years ago, the subject had been looming over you as the bane of your existence. Finding the one, though it was more of a social obligation than something you really wanted. Romantic love was an illusion of the old order. People married for duty, and you feared that one day, you would have to too. All of these social events and soirées were for that reason, and the more you lingered on that, the less enchanting they seemed.

The grandest estates could not tempt you, nor the glistening chandeliers that hung overhead. Not the enticing display of exotic fruits on the refreshments table, nor the enchanting string instruments. When you got to the dance floor, you curtsied for your partner, who was one of many that you would cycle through that night. Their faces were a blur, their conversations a bore, each a copy of a copy.

None of this was real.

All of this was an illusion, a distraction for the dawn of an empire. You’d been stuck in this haze for many years, only now just realizing the thickness of it, like this life was everything you would ever know. All of these thoughts raced through your head until your heart began pounding, like you were on the verge of collapsing. The room spun faster and faster as you lost yourself, but that was when you saw him.

A uniformed cavalry officer in all white.

You were never one to stare, let alone at a man, but his appearance was so unique, it was distracting. What more was that he was so tall and broad, it was hard not to look at him. But you did more than just that. As he stood near the edge of the ballroom, you gave him a few curious glances, perhaps too many to be considered inconspicuous. His skin was whiter than snow, soft and smooth like powder. He had a long and rather large nose, but it suited him. As for his hair, it was platinum blonde, and slightly wavy.

It framed a matured and full face that scanned the room for other people-watchers. He seemed a lot more observant than most, and perhaps that served a role in his isolation. But that made the two of you.

As if he felt your stare on him, he glanced at you.

Then, he smiled.

You froze, hypnotized by his eyes. In your lifetime here in Russia, you’ve never seen anything like them. His eyes were a soft lavender, and so vivid against his white cap. They were devastatingly beautiful and so rare, you felt lonely just by gazing into them. Or was it because it felt like you were looking into a mirror?

A week later, you attended an opera with Gilbert.

The man was escaping your mind by then, but fate decided otherwise. As you sat amongst hundreds of faces, yours was being watched by someone else. You scanned the audience with your opera glasses as the woman on stage performed her piece, reaching a high crescendo. That was when you spotted him.

The officer from the ball.

And he was already staring at you.

Your eyes went wide ever so slowly, enchanted by how bold he was being. He wasn’t nervous about being discovered at all, even removing his opera glasses to show his striking lavender eyes, as if to show it was him. It was riveting to be noticed, and even more so when he made it obvious. He wanted you to know he was watching you, just as you had been watching him. What were his intentions?

Or was it all a mere coincidence?

You didn’t know what to think, but one thing was for sure. He had piqued your attention, and you made it a point to find out who he was. The next time you saw him again was at another ball, and once the opportunity came, you walked up to your cousin to do exactly that. He was drinking vodka out of a glass, and he didn’t seem like he’d stop anytime soon.

“Who’s that?” You stared back at the man.

“Ivan Braginsky,” Gilbert answered.

Finally, a name to match the face.

Funnily enough, your cousin didn’t need to look to confirm who you were staring at. Had the man done something to warrant such a reputation, or was it his captivating looks that called for so much attention?

“Another rich cavalry officer, I guess. Apparently, he doesn’t care for women -- if you know what I mean.”

There it was.

“Where did you hear that from?” You shot him a look, strangely disheartened by the thought.

“Word of mouth, what else?”

“And you listen to that nonsense?”

“It’s not just me. See how everybody else is strategically avoiding him aside from a polite nod?”

You turned to the officer, watching him for a short period before noticing he was indeed the solitary type. He never waltzed with any women, and nobody seemed to be striking up much conversation with him aside from other officers. You didn’t know what to feel, stark indifference, or embarrassment that the man you had been staring at didn’t swing that way.

“Stop it, Gilbert. You sound just like them.”

But as opposed as you were to the idea, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. In a world like this one, outside opinion became your reality. People loved to talk, so if you happened to be the subject, you better hope it was something good. When you thought of it that way, your spunk had all but reduced to nothing.

It was easier to just do what everybody else was doing. To tread lightly against the water without causing any ripples. It was the reason why you were so miserable, and yet, you were paralyzed.

You resorted to just watching him on the mezzanine, surrounded by his friends. By then, your fixation on him was no longer out of mere curiosity. He was attractive, and judging from how he looked back at you, that attraction was mutual. The reciprocation left much to be desired, like an invitation to start something. It drew you in like all things forbidden, though the only object was the peace of your old life.

And rather than speaking, you chose to die.

But he chose the latter.

“Demoralizing, isn’t it?”

A deep voice startled you, having come from behind. When you turned to it, you came face to face with Ivan. He was even more striking up close, and you weren’t prepared for what felt like worlds colliding.

“Excuse me?” Your brows came together.

“This is all theatre,” Ivan replied, lowering his head to you. “Everything you do and say is watched.”

“Is that so?” Interest laced your tone, fascinated by the eccentric talking point. This was your first time meeting him, and yet, he didn’t bother with niceties.“Do you think we’re being watched right now?”

“Of course.” He held out a gloved hand, palm facing up. He was forward, but only at your permission. Nothing he did was intrusive, as if he observed you for all your limits and lingered on them until you gave him your consent to go further. For that, the way he carried himself was so mysterious, but also deeply alluring. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

You slid your hand into his, diving into the fire that was his world — and much to your wonder, yours.

Ivan led you to the dance floor, and all the heads in the room turned, one by one. Some peered around to get a better look, even. It was the most unexpected development yet, the man they’d written off to be a social outcast, next to a young debutante with an established name. You two looked good together too, but neither of those reasons would account for the amount of attention you and Ivan would receive.

It started off innocent like any other couple on the floor. A graceful waltz straight out of a fairytale.

Your palms came together, and with his hand on your waist, he guided you effortlessly amongst the other guests. You danced with him across the room, but you felt so light, it was like flying. Everything that had ever weighed you down was lifted, unburdened by everything that had been. Your dress flared out as he spun you in circles, but it wasn’t dizzying in the least.

In fact, your head had never been clearer.

For the world had all been drowned out.

The only thing you could see was him, and him, you. Even for just that moment, you were the center of each other’s universe. You were his sun, and he was yours. You two revolved around each other, basking in each other’s warmth that nourished a new life. And as the night went on, he never switched you with any other women. He didn’t have any intention to dance with anybody else, but neither did you. Slowly, but surely, it became undeniable what was developing between you two. He lifted you up and spun you in the air. Then, you took the risk to look down at him.

You and Ivan locked in a deep stare.

That was when you knew.

There was a budding passion between you and Ivan. With your mouth agape, you held onto his face to stabilize yourself. Breaths poured from your lips, and he welcomed them on instinct by opening his own. All this time, it wasn’t just the devastating beauty of his eyes that touched you, nor the coherence behind them. It was that they were looking at you.

The music stopped, and everything was sealed with a daring act. When he put you down, he did it so that your nose would slide against his. It was the first time that you made skin-to-skin contact with him, and it was so electric, you closed your eyes to savor it.

This had all been just a dance.

And yet, it felt like you two had just made love.

Needless to say, the blatant disregard for everyone else in the room was the most selfish, yet erotic experience of your life. When he parted ways with you, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. His lips lingered on you, and he lifted his gaze to you once more, almost as if to repeat everything that had already been said.

Then, he bowed, leaving you for the night.

Not that you even got any sleep after a high like that.

But your hopes were crushed as quickly as they were raised. You didn’t see him for a while after that, and he didn’t write to you either. A part of you hoped that he would find your address because he wanted to, but he never did. It left you incredibly disappointed, even confused after such a beautiful night together. Had everything you felt just been a fling, or worse, entirely made up in your mind? In your melancholy, you went to the city to get yourself some flowers.

But when you got inside the shop, you laid eyes on the reason for your woes. You could recognize that silver-blonde hair from anywhere, and subsequently, the person it belonged to. Even with his back turned to you in a crouch, you instantly knew who it was.

“Ivan.” You let out.

“(F/N),” The man turned to you, eyes widened.

His guard dropped at the sudden encounter. You just caught him in his private life, and while that wasn’t a problem on its own, he imagined his second time speaking to you would be when he was a little more prepared. But he couldn’t deny how delighted he was, even if he tried to mask it to an acceptable level. He stood up and dusted his pants, smile growing.

“It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. What are you doing?”

“Just running some errands.” Ivan replied, picking up a bucket of sunflowers from the ground.

“For yourself?” You asked with a curious tone.

“Yes, sunflowers are my favorite,” He laughed like he didn’t want to admit it, but he did anyway. He carried them to the cashier, but he promptly returned to get another one. “I like putting them in my windows.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” You smiled some. It was cute, even, but you refrained from saying it out loud. He was shy enough about it as is, so you thought of the next best thing. “I was buying some flowers for myself too.”

“Really?” He lit up.

“Yeah. Just some roses.” You hummed.

“Let me get them for you.” He offered, put off by the thought that you were doing the same thing as him.

“That’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t—”

“I insist.” Ivan lowered his eyes to you.

In his mind, people buying flowers for themselves meant they could’ve had better days. Maybe it was just an egotistical way of thinking, but he assumed it was the same way for you. If he could do the least of getting you a rose, he would sleep better at night.

That sincerity seeped through him and made it impossible for you to refuse. So you relented.

“Thank you, Ivan. This is really, really sweet of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After he paid for them, he handed you a generous bouquet of red roses wrapped in delicate, colored paper. The gesture was so kind, it almost made up for the anguish you had felt recently. While you admired the floral arrangement, your mind returned to that night — you softened your gaze and peered up at him shyly. “You know, I’ve always wanted to say that I had a really good time with you that night.”

Ivan leaned back slightly, taken aback by your words. It was natural for you to say, but he was so used to being alone, the thought of being considered was so riveting that he had to ground himself after the fact.

“You’re a great dancer.” You complimented.

“So are you.”

“I was hoping that you’d write me too.” You lowered your gaze, missing the surprise that crossed his face.

“You were?” He blinked.

“Would that be inappropriate?” You glanced up at him quickly, feeling a frown start coming in.

“No, but that’s what I thought myself. I thought that it would make you uncomfortable.” His eyes widened as he spoke candidly. It was incredible how at ease he was around you, but your unapologetic honesty had him scrambling to meet you in the middle.

“Not at all. I was actually bothered that you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” He apologized. “I’ll write to you tonight, so it should come in a few days. Don’t worry.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting,” You beamed, turning to leave the shop. Excitement washed over you like all was right in the world again. But before you left, you had to ride out the high with one last comment. And it caught him even more off guard than the entire encounter itself. “You seem more like yourself today.”

“What do you mean?” He paused.

“Because you were unprepared.” You answered.

Ivan wrote to you right when he got home, inviting you to tea the following week. The café he waited in could pass for the lobby of a luxury hotel, but it was nothing you weren’t used to. Ceilings high enough for an eagle to soar in, and smooth marble pillars to hold them up. Artisan furniture, waiters in tuxedos, it was a favorite place to rendezvous in for all high society. He had a newspaper opened in front of him just as you arrived. Somehow, he always seemed surprised to see you, even if this meeting had been organized.

“How long will you be in Moscow for?” You gave your coffee a quick stir. He opted for tea instead, which he paired with a slice of honey cake. Turns out, he had quite the sweet tooth as it was too much for you.

“Three months. Then I’ll be stationed in Tashkent,” He answered. The speed of your stirring waned to a stop, and he noticed that your stare on him turned thoughtful. You seemed as though you were about to say something, but you refrained. “What about you? Are you going back to Saint Petersburg in Spring?”

“Yes, but I can stay longer if I wanted,” You brought your cup up to your lips. In truth, you wanted to ask how long he’d be in Kazakhstan for, but you worried that your interest in him would’ve seemed too much. Not that it wasn’t an open secret to you both at this point. “I don’t have anybody waiting for me there.”

That day, you two got to know each other beyond the ballroom, talking about your lives, families, and goals. It was like playing catch up after your night together, and it was weirdly grounding. He wasn’t a mysterious Prince Charming who swept you off your feet anymore, but something even better. He was real, every last bit of his sensitive character and wit.

“Do you not want to be married?” He asked.

“Not to the wrong person. It’s the one thing I have to do right, so I don’t want it to be the regret of my life.”

“I understand. Finding the right person is easier said than done — people can like you, but it’s not love.”

“I’m listening,” You hummed.

“That’s what makes it so valuable,” Ivan continued. Something glinted in his eyes like he had just come alive, as if he’d been waiting to say this for a while. “Because when you have it, you’ll have everything.”

You rested your face on the palm of your hand, staring at him across the table with intrigue.

“That person will see you for everything that you are and accept you for things you can’t accept yourself. Then, you become whole because of it,” He briefly broke his eye contact as he picked up his tea, but remade it as he said this. “Letting them love you is how you acknowledge that and forgive yourself.”

“That was really good, Ivan.” You muttered, frowning. He was so eloquent, his words untangled some part of yourself you didn’t know was tangled. Now that you thought about it, he’d always had this effect on you. The things he’d say, the way he received you. The world just made sense when you were with him.

He was so intelligent and sensitive, it drew you in like a moth to a flame. But it also put everything into perspective. He was a person everyone decided to ostracize, and you were so close to being just like the rest. You almost didn’t deserve him because of it, but you could forgive yourself if you did one simple thing.

Not letting him slip away.

“You think so?”

“Yes, I understood that perfectly. I couldn’t have said it better myself,” You nodded, watching him light up at being so well-received. It was too bad what you’d add to this conversation wasn’t half as deep, but you liked a good laugh. “But hey, can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“It’s about you, though.”

“How can you tell me a secret about me?”

“Well, it involves you, but it’s not necessarily true,” Your smile at him was more coy than he would’ve liked, so what was it about him that was so amusing? “It’s what everyone has been saying about you.”

“And?” He raised a brow.

“Everybody thinks you’re gay.”

His eyes widened until the whites of them were practically glaring, but he didn’t appear disgusted in the least. He couldn’t recall doing anything that could give anybody that impression, unless he did.

“Why?” He shook his head, positively dumbfounded.

“Maybe it was because you seemed too reserved.”

“Well, you didn’t believe that, did you?”

“Of course not!”

“I’m glad, but what am I supposed to do with that information? I can’t exactly prove to them what I am.” Ivan smiled weirdly, and he kept his composure rather calm. Most people would’ve recoiled or panicked at the thought of being regarded as such.

But it was so in-character for him to not mind.

“Well, of course you can,” You laughed, your smile softening at this. Turns out, your point wasn’t so much to tease him as it was to flirt with him, and he walked right into it. “Just spend more time with me.”

His cheeks turned rosy as his heart sped up for a brief moment. And against all odds, he didn’t feel the urge to shy away from you. It spoke volumes for who he was, solitary and avoidant, even if the only thing he ever wanted was someone to see him. It was a paradoxical way to live, though life was full of them.

But something about you made him unafraid to chase you, even if it was at a calm, walking pace.

A few days later, you found yourself strolling beside him next to a frozen lake. Ivan had his arms folded behind his back while he indulged you in another pleasant conversation. He had so much to say, but he made every moment worth your while. It seemed as though he just needed someone to listen to him.

And you were more than happy to be that someone.

“My mother used to call me Sasha,” He told you.

“Oh?” It was a beautiful name, but the only thing that crossed your mind was how well it suited him.

“Defender of mankind,” He gave you his gloved hand to take as you came across uneven terrain. But even after it passed, you never let go, and he didn’t mind it one bit. “She would remind me of that every time I got bullied as a child. She said they only did nasty things to me because they were jealous of me.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t want to say.” He chuckled sheepishly.

“Children can be cruel sometimes.” You nodded.

“I don’t think children are that aware of themselves, but I suppose it was because I was different.”

“Why would you say that?”

“There must be a reason why they did what they did.”

“People don’t need a reason to be the way they are. They just don’t know how to be anything else,” You disagreed, feeling his stare on you as you gazed to the side. “Which is a shame because I never would’ve spoken to you if you hadn’t spoken to me first.”

“Oh?”

“I never would’ve met you if you didn’t take the risk,” You smiled back at him. “So don’t ever change, Ivan.”

All of this came so naturally to you, but your words meant more to him than you would ever know. Nobody had ever said that to him. To never change. His whole life, he thought he had to be someone else, but it was really the world that wasn’t right for him. You liked him for who he was, so for the first time in a while, he could breathe. And he didn’t hold back.

As the months went by, you started spending every waking moment with him. Winter wasn’t as cold and bleak as it used to be, having found a warmth in your close friendship with him. You would even go horse riding with him in the vast countryside. As he chased you through the serene, white landscape, the hooves of your horses pounded rhythmically against the ice.

You turned back to watch him riding steadily behind. Ivan gave Russia a beauty you never knew it had, and it reflected on him inside and out. His kindness knew no bounds, even for those who could never repay him. He would play with children on the streets, then crouch down to give them candy. And above all else, he loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

You were at his home, sitting across him on the ledge of a window. Just like he said, he had sunflowers at almost every one, giving the golden light that poured in a new meaning. But you made everything look so much more vibrant, giving his place a new life just by being here. He’d had people over before, but it was the first time that he didn’t feel lonely at home.

“How do you like your caviar?” He had a slice of bread in one hand and a knife in the other.

“Just make it how you usually would.”

“Alright,” Ivan spread a thick layer of butter over it before scooping some caviar and plopping it on top. Then, he handed it to you, which you ate in slow, experimental chews. He watched you intently for a reaction, and it was like nothing he expected.

“I don’t actually like caviar, but I just wanted to try it the way you do,” You admitted, finishing the slice of bread as you spoke. The man made a face as if to say come again, but you had already moved on to the next best thing. “Oh, that reminds me. What did you think of the tea cakes I got for you the other day?”

“I ate it all, actually.” He murmured under his breath.

“What?” You asked, not hearing what he said.

“I ate it all.” He repeated louder this time.

“But that was only a few days ago,” You said without thinking, surprised that he managed to finish the box in such a short period. He glanced to the side with his lips pursed, embarrassed that you found out, but then again, he never could lie to you. “But no matter. I’m glad you liked them since I made them myself.”

“You did?” Ivan glanced back to you, and when he saw how proudly you grinned at him, his shame had all but diffused into wonder. “They were really good, (F/N). I didn’t know you could bake so well.”

You didn’t know what came over you, but his fixation on sweets was so endearing, you did something so out of the blue that even you were surprised by your lack of inhibition. You leaned forward and lifted his blouse, revealing his belly and happy trail. He was slightly pudgy, and it was made worse by him leaning over. But the mindless decision on your part ended up eliciting a bigger response than you anticipated.

“Why did you do that?” His eyes flew open as he pulled his blouse down to hide his stomach.

“I don’t know. I wanted to see what you looked like,” You recoiled a little, “But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“Well, don’t do it again,” Ivan pinched your cheek, his expression slightly displeased. But somehow, he was a little glad that you felt this comfortable with him. What more was that you didn’t seem put off by what you saw, apparent in the expectant look you gave him. “You don’t find it unattractive that I’m fat?”

“What makes you think you’re fat?” You frowned.

“Well, there’s this,” He murmured.

“This is nothing, Ivan. Besides, I think it looks good on you,” You watched him furrow his brows for a skeptical look, which only seemed to encourage you. “But if we’re really talking, you could do your business in front of me and I would still like you.”

“No way,” He chuckled deeply.

“I’ll even follow you into the bathroom because you always take too long,” You said, smile growing.

“Okay, okay,” Ivan muttered defeatedly, not wanting to hear any more about his bathroom habits and your apparent willingness to watch them all unfold. At this point, his face had darkened past what he thought to be humanly possible. Did you like him that much? “Now if I said the same thing, you wouldn’t like it.”

“That’s because you’re a man,” You got off the ledge.

“Oh?” He wore an amused expression as he trailed behind you like a giant shadow. Despite being such a large person, he walked so quietly it was as though he wasn’t walking at all. It was only until you closed the door on him that you even realized he was there.

“I need to go to the bathroom! Don’t follow me.” You exclaimed, frankly dumbfounded that he got this far.

“Is that why you’ve been talking about me like that?”The door shut in his face, so he wandered off to wait for you. When you came out of the bathroom, he’d been sitting on a chair down the hallway. Once you were looming over him, he stood up to acknowledge you properly. “Let me show you to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, staying quiet as he took your hand and lead you to the bedroom he had prepared for you. It was so considerate of him, but you weren’t satisfied with his response. Were you being entitled, or did everything just fall flat like it meant nothing? You tried to hide it as best as you could, not wanting to ruin such a tender moment between you two.

But he was too observant to miss it.

“You don’t look happy,” Ivan softened his gaze as he put his hands on your waist, holding you steady. Little did he know, that only made your heart heavier. How could he treat you so lovingly, yet deny it so? Was he just being polite, where everything he ever did was out of friendship and nothing more?

“I don’t know why, but I thought we’d share.”

You couldn’t even look at him as you said it, having already decided his feelings for you were platonic.

Incredibly deep, but still, not deep enough.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered, turning to leave the room, feeling as though you just ruined everything. Before you could, Ivan reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you from taking another step. When you faced him, he had a deep frown and an intense look in his eyes like everything was about to bubble over.

To him, the question that had been on his mind was answered so unabashedly, even he couldn’t deny the implications anymore. You liked him so much, you hoped that he would take the initiative to let you in his bed. It was so forward, yet you communicated it in such a shy manner, you were endearing for it.

You wanted him, and not out of mindless passion.

Everyone else looked through him, but you looked at and into him. You met him where he needed you to, being so playful and open, yet so attentive and considerate. For that, he had nothing against letting you into his world, and he let himself go in every way he could let go because he trusted you to catch him.

Ivan took your face and leaned in with his lips.

But he was still careful, moving ever so slowly as he watched you for every subtle change to your body language and expression. You didn’t pull away in the slightest, staring back at him with an alluring look. Once his nose brushed against yours, you closed the gap with a long-awaited kiss. He responded with just as much urgency, having been granted permission to finally love you the way he was always intended to.

You hung off his neck as your mouths met again and again in soft pecks, but they eventually deepened into kisses that were so long, you couldn’t breathe.

It felt so good to finally have him. To surrender at the same time, giving in to the unspoken connection that had made it unbearable to be away from each other. For that, your patience for each other was rewarded with the most heartfelt intimacy yet. You and Ivan kept kissing, not caring for the taste of food in each other’s mouths. He was salty like the sea, but it was still him. Slowly, you were starting to like caviar.

You saw him off at the train station before he left for Tashkent. And he almost looked too good for you to let him go, but you had to. Ivan was dressed in his white cavalry uniform as he stood on the platform, cap in hand, and when you spotted him, you ran up to him as fast as you could. He stretched his arms to catch you just in time, lifting you over his head with absolutely no effort. Ivan had always been big and strong like a bear, but feeling it was something else.

You held onto his face and kissed him as hard as any woman would before their lover was sent off to the battlefield. He reciprocated with just as much urgent passion, moving his head fervently against yours. Your lips met again and again, eliciting soft and wet sounds. You ended the amorous exchange by sucking on his tongue, but it was hardly vulgar as it was playful. He laughed breathily and smiled up at you like a dream, intoxicated by your affection.

“You came to see me, mishka?” He spoke lowly.

“Of course I did,” You let out, kissing him again until you somehow got it through his head that you loved him, however dizzy it was. The second time round was even longer than the first, so it was a miracle how he was still standing. “Write to me everyday.”

“I promise,” He whispered, chest heaving.

You bit his neck as hard as you could without making him bleed, because kissing him a third time wasn’t enough. His face scrunched up from the pain, and while his body didn’t enjoy it, his heart was in the right place. It ached with satisfaction, but it couldn’t be explained by the physical. It came from a carnal instinct deep within, and what awakened inside him would stay with him throughout his entire posting.

“I miss you already, Sasha.” You whispered back.

“I’ll be back soon. I know nothing will happen to me because you’ll always be with me,” Ivan pressed his forehead to yours gingerly, closing his eyes as he spoke. It was the mindset of all soldiers, the feeling of invincibility simply because someone loved them. But how many would still perish, despite that fact? He carried this inside him like a stone; knowing his own mortality made him restless with longing.

In the months he spent away from you, you were all he could think about. As he sat around the campfire with his comrades, he let the dark of the night get to him. It was pitch black for miles around, so he stared into the flames, letting them burn his vision away just to get a semblance of what it felt like to be around you. Light, warm, and nourishing, a sign that he’d live to see another day. He knew he loved you, even if that love was playful, exciting, and even childlike.

For you, Ivan freed up so much space within himself that you would never feel trapped again. If the world was ever too small, it never was inside him, and in there, you slowly blossomed like a flower. He would then carry you inside him everywhere he went, so it was like having a piece of Spring even in the coldest blizzards. But the greatest one had yet to pass. What used to be so pure was burning into something so passionate, it rivaled that of his first dance with you.

Only this time, it wasn’t just physical attraction.

He wanted all of you, body and soul.

But somehow, that felt like a crime. You were his little bear, and he was your first for everything. Was it too soon to want you this way, or were you ready to give him everything? When he saw you again, it was easy to make a poor judgement. Your minds were tired but your hearts were not, and after the separation, there was nothing to inhibit your deep-seated restlessness for each other. While you sat over him, half-dressed in your underwear, you kissed him until his lips were bruised. But he didn’t mind the pain. Everything you could ever inflict on him translated to pure ecstasy.

“Can I make love to you?” He gazed expectantly up at you, breaking the already fervid silence.

“But this is my first time.” You flushed, caught off guard by how plainly he asked for it. But perhaps, this was what it was to have intimate relations with a man. You and Ivan were headed toward this outcome, which would surely unfold sooner or later.

“Do you trust me?” He held onto your fingertips delicately as if to give you the option to pull away.

He was doing the same thing he did the first time he met you, lingering on your boundaries until you gave him the permission to go further. As alluring as it had been, really doing it was far more intimidating than you thought. There would be no going back from this, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it.

“Yes, but I’m scared.” You whispered in a hush.

“Of the pain?” He asked just as faintly.

“Of losing you.” You said even quieter.

“But you’ll always have me.” He smiled in the dark.

The next few minutes went by in a haze.

He carried you to his bed and laid you down as gently as he would laying someone down to rest. Then, he got on top of you. While you laid under him, he pulled his shirt over his head. After which, he slowly lowered back down to you, his silhouette becoming one with yours. His bare skin was flush against yours, the first of many sensations you would feel from his body.

Ivan was going to take you tonight, and you couldn’t bring yourself to process it. Some part of you wanted it to happen, another didn’t. Because as much as you loved being intimate with him, you loved everything more. The mindful conversations, even the mindless ones too. It was the purity of your interactions with him that made everything so perfect, but sex?

Having sex with Ivan scared you more than anything.

He was the only man you could ever give yourself to, and you trusted him more than anything, so why did you feel this way? Maybe it was still too early. Ivan hadn’t made himself clear enough to you, because deep inside, you still feared that he wouldn’t lay down his life for you. But if he was doing this with you, that had to be his intentions, wouldn’t it?

Or were you just being naïve?

Whatever it was, the one thing you knew was how much you didn’t want to hurt him. So you let him put his hands all over you, your breasts, your thighs, and everything in between. Ivan worshipped every inch of your body, caressing you until you were dripping wet and feening for him. Seeing the massive tent in his underwear didn’t help, as it forced you to cross your legs to hide how much you wanted him inside you.

“What’s wrong, mishka?” He breathed.

“I don’t know about this, Ivan.” You whispered, eyes turning misty. “What if this changes everything?”

“What do you mean?” He reached out to caress your cheek, gaze softening for a tender look. You were feverishly hot, your skin almost scalding to touch, and not for the right reasons. Something had you on the verge of tears, he just never imagined it would be him. That would end up being his greatest hamartia, and this night was only just the beginning. “Tell me.”

“Will I still be your little bear?”

“Always,” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, and for a brief moment, you relaxed. But when his hands went to your underwear, discomfort crossed your face again. However, he missed it, set on making love to you as a cathartic moment in the relationship.

You would be bound to him forever, and him, to you.

Only you had a very different idea of binding to him. He took your underwear off, and that was the trigger. The first tear rolled from your eyes, and as you laid naked under him, you hid yourself behind your arms. In the end, no matter how much you thought you trusted him, you didn’t want him to see you like this.

And Ivan was devastated.

Not for being rejected, but for making you cry.

The shame in his eyes was as if he just killed a man, and his brows came together until it looked like he was in physical pain. Not only did he make you feel uncomfortable, he made you feel taken advantage of. He shouldn’t have tried convincing you the first time you said it, and now that he had, did you even see him the same anymore? Ivan highly doubted it.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered, climbing off you.

He stood next to the bed with his back turned to you as he gathered himself. He couldn’t bring himself to face you no matter what he told himself. The guilt he felt was so paralyzing, he couldn’t even move.

“Let’s stop this.”

You slept beside him all night, hoping that what just happened between you both could be a minor bump in the relationship. In the morning, you could work it out, and you trusted that he would come through for your sake. But when the sun rose and you came to, he had all but disappeared. You sat up and rubbed the haze from your eyes, scanning the room for him.

Then, you searched the rest of the house, wandering the empty halls half-dressed. He was nowhere to be found, and at the realization that you had just been abandoned, an emptiness welled in your chest.

Why did he go?

There wasn’t a trace of him except for a letter you found on his desk. When you read it, a whirlwind of emotions hit you. Confusion, sadness, then anger. Ivan apologized for what he’d done, then said that he would return to Tashkent to give you some space.

You hadn’t finished the entire message before you scrunched it up on reflex, throwing it to a random spot in the room. All of his intellectualizing meant nothing to you, because the only thing you took away from this was that he left. He just upped and left.

He never gave you the chance to forgive him, running off before he could gather the nerve to face you. If it weren’t for all that you had done with him last night, the kissing, the touching, and your nudity, you would feel pity for him. But he took something from you.

And rather than staying to make up for it, he just left. His stupidity just shattered your dignity as a woman, but not to the point it wasn’t salvageable. So you got dressed in the fastest, sloppiest way possible, hoping to somehow catch him before he fled Moscow.

You boarded the first train you saw, and you stormed through the carriages looking like Hell. There was only an astronomical chance that you would see him, and yet, you didn’t stop, pacing down the aisle until you would lay eyes on the reason for your woes.

Fate was kind to you that day, because you did end up finding him. When you saw Ivan sitting at one of the booths, you marched up to him, nostrils flaring. He was in a heavy brown coat, and atop his head was his gray ushanka. As he stared lazily into the white, snow-drenched landscape outside, wallowing in self pity, he failed to notice you until you were standing right over him. When he sensed you in his peripheral, he turned to you, and his eyes slowly widened.

What were you doing here?

Ivan was surprised to see you on his train departing Moscow, but even more by you looking for him after everything that happened. He was that out of touch with you, which only worsened your anger. Needless to say, he was overjoyed to see you, even if he never had a chance to relish it. Because what happened in the next second would shatter his train of thought.

Utterly and completely.

You slapped him across the face, and so hard that his hat fell off. Gasps went around the carriage as his head turned in direction of the slap. His eyes went as wide as he could get them, and he didn’t move out of shock. His face stayed angled to the side as he tried to process what you just did. Did you just slap him?

From the burning sting on his cheek, it was apparent that you did. A red hand mark slowly formed on his skin, but no matter how much it hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to anger. Now that he thought about it, he would still adore you with your hands around his neck. In his mind, anything you did to him was out of a fit of passion. And he wasn’t so far off the mark.

When he turned back to you, mouth agape like he was about to go off, your face had gone as white as a ghost. You were appalled by what you just did, and only now did you come to terms with it, which was after the fact. After you hit him. He reached out to you on instinct, but you darted out of there without a word. Ivan shot up on reflex and chased after you.

You raced down the stairs of the train to get back to the platform, feeling the snow crunch under your feet as you ran. Not that you even had a place in mind. You just had to get as far away as possible, fleeing the horror that was something done in the heat of the moment. You just hit Ivan. You couldn’t imagine how furious he was, but that only went to show how out of touch you were with him too.

He shot his arm out and grabbed your hand, yanking you into his chest. Then, he covered your entire body with his, holding you in such an embrace that would stop any and all movement on your end. Like a wild bear, he had you completely subdued in his grasp.

“How could you?” You squeezed him as hard as you could. “You were just gonna leave without telling me?

“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.” Ivan sighed.

“Why would I not want to see you?” You exclaimed, pulling back to put your scorching gaze on him as you fought back angry tears. He stood over you in silence, expression wrought with shame as you tore him to shreds. There was nothing he could say to earn your forgiveness, because there was nothing that could justify what he did. “After everything that happened, that was what you thought of me?”

He had done this out of his own cowardice, and you suffered the brunt of the consequences.

“You made me feel so cheap!” You cried, slamming your fists against his chest. Not that he even budged when he was that much stronger than you, so you shoved him instead. And he let you, coming back every time to wipe away your tears. “But you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even know that.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” He winced, holding your face in his hands as he kissed you over and over.

But even that wasn’t enough.

“If we fight, stay with me. If I run, chase after me. Don’t just sit back and let it happen,” You wiped your tears as they kept coming, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that came pouring from your mouth. The dam had broken, and with the most heart-wrenching look on your face, you sobbed, “Do you even love me?”

He went beet red, and his eyes burned with all the hatred he harbored for himself. It was his ugliest look yet, coming face-to-face with just how worthless he made you feel. It was only a fraction of what he felt himself, but knowing this was all his doing made him cave like never before. He pulled you into a hug so tight, it was as though he was clinging to life itself.

“I love you more than anything,” He uttered shakily into your hair. “I love you more than life itself. You are the reason I get up in the morning everyday. Without you, living would feel the same to me as being dead.”

“Then prove it. Don’t let me doubt you for a second, or else I’ll keep living in my head.” You squeezed him.

Ivan stayed in Moscow that night. And you were back in his bedroom, continuing what was left off from yesterday. Only this time, there was a sense of clarity and serenity between you both that was comparable to reaching nirvana. All that could be said had been spoken, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

“You’re so clumsy, Ivan.” You spoke gently over him, eyes still red from all the crying. While you sat on his lap, he rubbed his face on your bosom. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he had his strong arms coiled around you with no intention of letting you go. “Why is it when we’re dancing, you’re so graceful, but with everything else, you’re so clueless?”

“That’s because it’s all I know,” He kept his eyes shut as brushed his lips delicately across your skin.

“Then treat me like how you would dance with me.” You spoke with so much conviction, it wouldn’t have sounded as suggestive as it was really meant to be.

Ivan opened his eyes as his heart began to pound in his chest. If he didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have understood what you meant. But he did, and always had since the day he met you. The unspoken passion between you both didn’t go unnoticed by him, and this was his chance to finally prove it to you.

You wanted him to take you.

And he wasn’t about to refuse you.

From now on, everything he would say to you would be spoken through his body as if you were dancing with him. His bedroom was now the ballroom, only there would be nobody watching you two.

He got off the bed, and without breaking eye contact, he began to strip, starting with his shirt.

You watched in a daze, admiring his body for all that it was. He was so big and strong, you could only imagine his size down there. And you were right for your concerns. When he undid his pants and pulled them down with his boxers, his dick bounced out. Ivan was still so massive at half-mast, he could put a horse to shame. But you weren’t intimidated at all.

If this was what it was to love him, you would soon rather split yourself in half than refuse to take him.

He laid down flat on the bed, the action causing his cock to rock to and fro. Rather than coming onto you, he let you come to him on your own will. You got on top of him so that his erection would be brushing against your stomach. Then, you lifted your shirt and pinned it with your chin, showing him your breasts with a coy smile. He chuckled lowly as his cock twitched, more than content to let you please him.

You were being so obedient, but you would snap him out of his indulgent stupor soon. You gave his dick a hard slap, and he let out a pained moan as it rocked from side to side like a buoy. Satisfied, you started pumping your hand up and down the length of it as a reward. His face contorted with pleasure, only it was so good, it looked like it hurt just as much as before.

“Oh… Oh…” He shut his eyes as you went even faster, writhing in bliss and agony. He began panting rapidly as he reached a hot and hard orgasm, but before he came, you stopped, leaving him on the edge of an explosive climax. He went red in the face from embarrassment as he recovered. “… Why did you…?”

“Because…” You trailed off as you adjusted yourself on top of him, spreading your legs and showing him your womanhood cutely. It was so erotic, Ivan had a visceral reaction. His eyes went round as his heart ached to penetrate you right then and there, but he somehow refrained. “I wanted you to do it inside me.”

He never backpedaled so fast.

A switch was flipped, excited by what you’d let him do to you, and he dove into the place between your legs. Ivan would eat you out until you lost your mind, flicking his tongue furiously against your clit, swirling circles on it, then tongue-fucking you until you came into his mouth. His hunger for you was more like starvation, picking you up by your thighs and lifting you over his head so you would have nowhere to go.

Nowhere but down to his mouth.

“Ivan, please-- ” You moaned, grabbing his head to stabilize yourself as he held you on his shoulders.

“Yes, mishka?” He dragged his tongue up and down your folds, then swirled it over your sensitive clit.

“--I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but that’s enough. You’re driving me crazy, ah--” You cried.

Ivan was so good at oral, he had your legs shaking by then, but he still wasn’t stopping. This was only the appetizer, the first bit of foreplay he would give you before getting to the main course. And he made that apparent by laying you back down on the bed.

“Then I’ll keep going until you understand.”

Without breaking eye contact, he stuck two fingers into his mouth. His gaze was hotter on you than you could stomach, but you were such a mess, there was nothing you could do except let him take charge. After coating them with saliva, he inserted them into your entrance, sliding deeper into you than you were ready for. Your eyes flew open as he started fingering and hooking you, breath hitching to his thrusts.

“How does that feel?” He breathed.

You turned feverishly hot as he pleased you, and with your head thrown back, you thought to yourself how much more it would be to take him. If this was just his fingers, what about his —? Ivan didn’t give you a chance to imagine it because he was already on top of you in a missionary position. Placing your legs on either side of his body, he splayed you wide open.

Then, he aligned himself and penetrated you.

Ivan made a face of pain before he leaned down to kiss you. After which, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, knowing how much he was for you. Tears ran down your cheeks as he rocked back and forth. It hurt so much, you couldn’t even make a noise to express it. But he was patient. He didn’t go any further than you’d let him, listening to your body.

“Slowly, slowly,” He whispered over you assuringly. As he moved his pelvis back and forth, he penetrated you to the same depth every time, but eventually, he got deeper as you accepted him. By then, most of the pain had subsided. He was just so big, the walls of your womanhood ached as he moved inside you. That ache then spread to your heart and mind.

But it ached so good, you couldn’t stop trembling.

You didn’t know what it was that made you tear up in pleasure. That it was Ivan who was inside you, or that he was so thick, he was filling you up until there was nothing left to fill. While his cock rubbed against your insides, it stretched you until your stomach bulged. And the sight was something else to behold, like you were trying to keep down all of his love in your body.

Being so much smaller than him, you almost couldn’t take him. But you would soon rather split yourself in half than refuse to try. And you made that apparent with the way you begged him wantonly, like you would die if he didn’t get to where you wanted him.

“Deeper, Ivan. Deeper,” You let out, tears falling from your hazy eyes as he rocked you back and forth.

You had completely lost control of yourself, but so would he. You wanted him so bad you were crying for him, and Ivan thought it was so cute, it drove him crazy. With a low, throaty moan, Ivan sunk himself all the way in, and without giving you any time to adjust, he started pounding you into the bed as hard as he could. The bed squeaked even faster and faster.

He was slapping his pelvis into you at a furious pace, and you were taking every inch of his massive cock every time. He even let out a few breathy utterances, praising you for how good you were being. He fucked you like this for a few more minutes, and when it wasn’t enough, he folded you in half like a pretzel to get even deeper. This was the position he stayed in until his first orgasm, loving how much he opened you up.

He splayed you apart until he was pushing both your knees into the mattress. You kept your eyes closed and head tilted away out of embarrassment, but he was infatuated with your shyness. After a few more strong thrusts, he snapped, eyes closed in pure bliss. Ivan smiled floatily as he came, shooting strong jets of cum into your core. While he ejaculated inside you, he stayed all the way in to let you feel his dick pulse.

And the satisfaction he felt made his mind go blank.

The only thing he knew was to go back to moving so he could ride out his orgasm. With his mouth agape, he rolled his hips into you in slow, fluid movements, pumping you full with his cum. He breathed heavily over you like a dog, brows twitching up and down in pleasure. When he finally finished, he laughed weakly as he basked in the aftermath of all the love-making.

Cumming inside you didn’t just feel like heaven.

Knowing the consequences and still doing it made it so hot, he couldn’t get off his high. It excited him to think what he was doing to you, something intimate but oh-so perverted. The fact that you let him do it only turned him on even more. So for the rest of the night, he couldn’t resist doing it again and again.

You and Ivan had sex for hours, rolling around the bed with your bodies connected like snakes in heat.

You’ve lost count of how many times you orgasmed, but he just couldn’t get enough. You never imagined how much of a sex fiend Ivan was, but turns out, you did all the right things to bring out this side of him. When you’d crawl away from him, he would pull you back to him in one quick movement. And when you tried stumbling to the bathroom, he yanked you back to keep fucking you. Ivan would then bend you over the desk and pound you doggy-style until he came.

When he pulled out, cum oozed from your hole.

You got so mad at him after that, you slapped him, but he couldn’t be affected by it anymore. He even liked it, because being hit by you felt no different to him than being kissed. So he simply turned back at you, chest still heaving from all the sex, and leaned in to kiss you. In that short moment before he put his mouth on yours, you saw that his nose was bleeding.

Your eyes widened with guilt, but it went away as he moved his lips fervently against yours. You hung off his neck as you kissed through his blood, tasting the iron that dripped into your mouth. Then, you were back to taking him like nothing happened. He would hold you against the wall standing, then roll his pelvis furiously into you. With the wall behind you, you had nowhere to go and was forced to take him. With his forehead flush against yours, he kept you in a dazed stare as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

His nose kept bleeding as he thrusted furiously into you, making for an erotic sight. Ivan just adored you so much, he wanted you even when you raised a hand at him. But he thought he deserved it. As he fanned his hot, labored breath over your mouth, he reached another hot orgasm, coming inside your womb. Your brows twitched in ecstasy as he kept rolling his hips, stimulating your clit from the inside, now dripping with cum. Either way, as push comes to shove, you would be making it up to him until morning.

When the sun came up, you and Ivan basked in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The soft sheets beneath you were damp from all kinds of body fluids, and he had dried blood over his mouth. You cleaned it carefully with a cloth dipped in some water, and after that, you two kissed, not minding each other’s morning’s breath. He couldn’t be any more satisfied with the developments, knowing you were finally his. He was now whole, having found his other half to forgive all that he lacked, and he would do the same.

“What do you want to do today?” You asked him as you lay on his chest, eyes still shut from exhaustion.

“I don’t know, I just want to lay in bed with you.”

“But that’s not productive.” You mumbled.

“Laying in bed with you is the most productive thing I could ever think of doing,” Ivan smiled tiredly under you, getting you to open your eyes to peer up at him in a shy look. “You are the activity, mishka.”

One week later, you were in a carriage on the way to a ball with him. And for the first time in a long time, you were excited to go. Ivan made balls enchanted again, simply because you would be dancing with him and nobody else. But you also knew his presence alone had that same effect. There were really people out there like him, and that made the world smaller — and righter — than you’ve always known it to be.

“You have to meet my cousin, Ivan. He’ll love you.”

“Of course,” He chuckled, having already heard of Gilbert and the role he played in introducing him to you, however incorrectly he had done it. It wasn’t in his nature to blame him, and he was more eager than anything to befriend your closest family member.

“Just don’t make him feel stupid, he hates that.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Just something about you, everything you do feels intelligent,” You flickered your eyes over him as he sat across you quietly. Ivan had always been so calm and mature, but still able to humor your playfulness in private. It was one of your favorite parts about him. You saw sides of him that nobody else would, and it made up the world you had with him. “He’s already mad at me for ditching him to go with you today.”

“I understand,” He nodded.

You sat across each other in a comfortable silence, but he kept staring at you. His gaze on you was so tender, but also dazed and absent like he was thinking of something else entirely to this moment.

“What?” You frowned, slightly put off by the intensity of his scrutiny, when really, you were more flustered than anything. It looked like he had something salacious on his mind, but this was Ivan you were talking about. Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from going, “Want me to slap some sense into you?”

It had been a joke to diffuse the tension, but it only seemed to encourage the sincerity of his feelings.

“I want to be your husband.” He said it with such a serious tone of voice, you couldn’t even brush it off.

Your face contorted with shock, but you were slowly overwhelmed with so much emotion that you turned beet red. You were on the verge of tears, and not just from happiness. You were relieved to hear that Ivan was ready to lay his life down for you, as much as you trusted that he would. But did he really have to say that right before meeting so many people?

You had changed him so much with your love, giving him so much confidence that you could hardly deal with your own creation. But if you asked him, Ivan was just being as passionate as you told him to be. To treat you like he was dancing with you. So he did what he wanted to, even if it was more bold and brazen than how anyone else would’ve gone about it. How he would’ve gone about it if he hadn’t met you.

By the end of the month, he proposed to you.

With a diamond-encrusted ring on your finger, you’d write to him as he served in Tashkent for one last time. Because once he’d return, you two would marry and start a new life together. A few years would pass before there would be the three of you. Ivan would carry a small child in his arms while he walked the streets of Moscow with you, only the first of many he would have with you as a product of your love.

Spring had only just begun, and Winter?

It would never be cold again.

[aventurineswife]

𝟎𝟎 — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

The world was screaming.

A soundless roar reverberated through the air, vibrating deep in the marrow of the earth itself. Fires bloomed across the horizon like wilting flowers, their smoke clawing at a sky split by jagged streaks of blue and gold light. The once-bustling city lay in shambles, its towering spires buckling under the weight of something unseen but immense, as though the heavens themselves were folding inward.

And then, silence.

You woke up on cold, fractured ground, your cheek pressed against shards of crystalized ash. A sickly warmth pulsed through the air, but it wasn’t the heat that pulled you upright—it was a voice.

It wasn’t a voice, not in the traditional sense. It wasn’t sound. It was a presence, vast and all-encompassing, brushing against the edges of your mind like the echo of a dream you couldn’t quite remember.

"𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐞."

You gasped as the word—or thought—slammed into your consciousness. Your body moved instinctively, scrambling to your knees, though every muscle protested.

The city—or what was left of it—stretched out before you, a desolate wasteland. Shadows writhed where no light should have reached. In the distance, a cluster of people ran toward a barely functioning evac station, their screams swallowed by the chaos. A Stellaron, massive and pulsating, loomed like a malignant star over the ruins.

Your chest tightened. You knew what this was. Everyone did. Stellaron outbreaks were whispered about in myths and horror stories, a cosmic plague that left no survivors. And now, one had come to your home.

But how were you still alive?

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞."

The voice—or thought, or thing—intruded again, cold and steady.

“Who’s there?” you rasped, your voice breaking on the question. You weren’t sure whom you were asking.

No answer came, but the pressure in your mind didn’t fade. Instead, it grew, wrapping around your thoughts like a vice. Images flickered unbidden behind your eyes—a spiraling void, a distant train cutting through infinite stars, and fragments of something shattered, scattered across the cosmos.

You clutched your head, doubling over. “Stop—stop it!”

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞."

The command was undeniable, a weight that bore down on your every thought. Your legs obeyed before you had time to resist, carrying you forward into the wreckage. You staggered, eyes darting to the ground for stability, but the fragments of crystal that lined the earth pulsed faintly as you passed, like they were responding to your presence.

You didn’t know where you were going or why, only that you couldn’t stop. A part of you wanted to scream—to cry out for help—but deep down, some instinct whispered that no one would hear you.

The distant whine of engines pierced the air, and a shadow fell over you. When you looked up, a colossal shape descended from the sky—a train. No, not just a train. It glimmered with an otherworldly light, sleek and impossibly vast.

The voice returned, this time softer, almost amused.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬."

And as you stepped toward the light, the fragments beneath your feet glowed brighter. For a brief moment, you could swear you saw something—no, someone—standing in the smoke ahead of you.

They reached out a hand, and the world dissolved into darkness.

[Navigation]

[spookypete-94]

Nightmare's Wasteland

Chapter 2- Wrath

SimonGhostRileyxFem!Reader

Small series. Reader is a female character in a dystopian world where the ability to conceive is limited to a small percentage of people. Reader is of that percentage and is assigned to Simon to provide a child to a declining population. She learns how live with him and survive, while he learns about her life prior before being delivered to hell. Def a darker read, MDNI.

CW for language. Reader learns more about the man she's been assigned to.

Time.

Time it seemed to be all you had. At first you thought your new Master, Mr. Riley, was allowing you to settle in before attempting the task both of you had been given. However, any time you had tried to approach him about your fertile window he brushed you off or left, shutting and locking himself in his office. It was a puzzle to you. This world seems to fit and benefit a man’s needs and wants… but Mr. Riley had shown no interest in it what was assigned to him.

Duty.

This job was all that was asked of you in this new world. The only thing to keep you alive was to provide a baby and keep the birth rate on the rise before moving on the next household. Failure to achieve such a goal put you at risk. This was your first attempt, worried if you failed you would be shipped off to work in the mines a death sentence you have heard.

Anger.

Frustration started to linger in your mind, building anxiety and stress. This man would hardly talk to you, let alone even look in your direction some days. Honestly, it made you feel that you didn’t know which was worse. To be a plaything in man’s society, or not even acknowledged in Mr. Riley’s. Did he not understand the risk it placed on you and himself failing this requirement? How selfish of him… Both of your lives at risk, all because he will not have anything to do with you.

The first night in your new “home” left you confused. His interaction of his strong hands holding you in place while he examined the back of your neck. How could it be so different? Why was he treating you so different now?

With having so much time, days seemed to blur together. Trying your hardest to find tasks alongside Kate, you helped her run the house. Cooking homemade meals, the cleaning and washing. It had built a bond between you two that’s for sure. Speaking of your old lives, finding common ground, in this cold, dark, new world you had made a friend. Feeling like the cause gave you purpose kept your mind off your current problem, that is until dark came and you went to your room spending it alone with that little voice inside your head. What was wrong with you?

Maybe it was that thought that had drove you to his office, the one were the doors were always locked and barricaded shut to you. The bravery had made you stride to his office leaving you once you stood in front of the doors. The color of them was a dark red, walnut? Cherry? Gold embellishments detailed it like most of the house. Mr. Riley’s baritone voice is what brought you back to.

“Doors open.”

Of course, leave it to him to know you were standing outside his door like a creep.

Searching for the brazenness attitude that had brought you here once more, you opened that door hand on the gold handle hoping your voice would not fault you otherwise.

Drawing your cloak further and stepping in, shutting the door behind you. He hadn’t even bothered to look up, wouldn’t even acknowledge you. Placing both your hands together, interlocking your fingers, standing firmly in place you remained quiet. You were going to make him acknowledge you.

Time. More time gone. Ten minutes?? Before he looked up at you. A few seconds longer before he finally spoke again.

“Can I help you?” It seemed even when he tried to be quiet, his voice was still loud.

“Did I do something to you?”

“Wha’?” He asked from the bluntness of your question.

“Did I do something to you? Is there something wrong with me?”

Scoff. All he can do is scoff at your question, fingers pinching up between his eyes at the top of his nose.

“You can’t even look at me.” Your voice firm, unrelenting. “There have been two fertile windows come and gone. Two months in your home, and you won’t even acknowledge me or my job here.”

Your proud courageous self was knocked down at the knees, not prepared quite yet for his response.

“You think this is easy for me? That I want this?” His finger tapped down at his desk.

“You think I want to live this too?” You finally countered. “If I fail to do my duty, I’m sent off somewhere else. God knows where…”

“Duty.” His tone sardonic, mean in nature. “Don’t think anyone understands the full meaning of that word.” He glanced back down at his desk taking the papers he had been working on pulling them back closer to glance at the, again.

“Did they beat you?”

Even if he refused to look up at you again, you were able to see the change in his body language. Was like he went stiff, hands clenching the paper closer.

“Did they berate you? Tell you there was only one purpose in your life? Did you get to live in the past life before?”

Finally brown coals looked up at you. They only fueled your rage’s fire, an inferno burning you both.

“I know what it was like before. I want more then anything to be someone again instead of someone’s whore. But if I fail to do my duty, then I run the risk of being sent to the mines or strung up from being insubordinate.”

He’s quiet once more, eyes squeezed shut before leaning back into his chair and staring at the ceiling. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

This time it was your turn to be confused.

“What?” You had fired back so many questions you forgot about one of the initial ones you had asked, the one that had brought you here.

“There’s nothin’ wrong with you.” This time his voice quieter in tone, trying his best to seem gentle. Clicking his pen once before standing up and sighing.

“Then what is it?”

“A lot wrong with me.” Walking around to the front of his desk leaning against the front of it, fully presenting himself to you.

You remained silent in hopes of him speaking more, which he did, flipping the pen around in his fingers.

“I might have not been beat, or abused in this new world, but the last one was not easy for me. Don’t speak to be about hardships because I have been through my fair shares and caused it for many as well.” The statement started off calm, but the ending had a threatening undertone to it.

“You can’t just treat me like a ghost in this house.”

A statement he snorted at, finding it ironic.

“Something funny to you?” You sneered back to him.

“Go back to your room.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go back to your room.” His voiced boomed to you. “We’re done here.”

He was banishing you away like you were an unruly toddler.

“No.” You were planning on holding your ground.

“No?”

In two long steps he was standing over you, anger now burning in his coal eyes, glaring down at you. His large mass now looming over you, casting him in his dark shadow.

Oh, fuck.

“Going to intimidate me now? That’s alright, I’m used to that too.” Your mouth could shut the fuck up at any time now.

“You can think that this is only hard for you, or that you deserve better. Whatever you need to tell yourself, but I have no plans in adding to the population in this country. The world doesn’t deserve another one of me runnin’ around in it.”

“We don’t get a say.”

“I will face that battle when we get there.”

“Do you want them to send me away? Is that what it is?”

“No.” He groaned rolling his eyes, hands in his messy hair pushing it back. “Why are you so frustrating? Can’t you listen?”

“I’m frustrating?? You haven’t even spoke to me since the first night. Won’t tell me anything just have me as a shut in living in your home.” You exasperated to him. “If I fail this, they will send me away, punish me. Lie if you must, tell them you can’t stand me and have them reassign me.”

“Tha’ what you want?” His question dark, ominous sounding.

“No,” you admitted, shaking your head adamantly, “but I can’t live here with knowing there are repercussions coming because you fail to act.” You spat at him.

“Please… just go to your room.” He sighed at his wits end, the end of his rope near.

Shaking your head, you sighed, tears brimming your eyes and stepped through the door. The urge to slam it was strong, but this wasn’t your home. The anger you had felt bubbling to the top its well wanting to overflow and spill, but a lady had to keep it together.

Quietly, you sped down the hallway, slipping into you room. Sleep evaded you for awhile until your eyes hurt so much from crying you had to close them to feel relief. The burn in them almost soothing once closed.

Surprise had struck you though at breakfast the next morning when you found Mr. Riley's chair pressed up near the end of the long table you sat at. Sitting yourself down in it, he was not long to follow bringing two cups in to fill with tea to have with your meal.

"We do this, we do it my way." Voice low, still worried he will set you off from last nights turmoil. You nodded, thankful for at least something.

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Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

taglist:

@motheroffae

[dyns33]

Only wastelands part 2

Here's part 2 of my Cooper Howard x Reader ! I think it will be a story in 4 parts at the end, but I'm not sure yet.

Tags : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25

If Y/N had to pay Cooper one compliment, it was that he had been a very good teacher.

Months passed, years, and she survived the apocalypse perfectly on her own.

To avoid trouble, she hid her pitboy and her gender under a large coat and a Ranger mask. Some people made fun of her, thinking she was doing this to protect herself from radiation. Everyone knew that West Tek's hardware, or any of Vault's partners, was crap.

Y/N knew it, and that was why she always had Radaway on her. Not at all in case she saw Cooper again and he needed some.

Three years without any news, doing everything to avoid attracting attention, and she hardly thought about him at all.

If she sometimes looked at the photo of him before his turning, with little Janey, it was only to remember that she should trust no one in this rotten world. Never again, she repeated to herself.

It was with this spirit that she almost killed Lucy when the young woman fell on her. Literally.

Y/N was standing in a crater, calm, silent, holding her sniper tightly, ready to shoot her future dinner, when the little vaultie had jumped to escape a yao guai.

Her instinct not being often wrong, she knew that it was more urgent to kill the bear than the imbecile who had thought that surprising a shooter was less dangerous than confronting a beast.

Even though she had a gun, was covered in blood, and one of her fingers was a different color, little Vault dweler looked harmless with her big, naive doe eyes.

It was obvious that she had been outside for a short time. A true miracle that she is still alive.

"Thank you, thank you very much !" she repeated with a huge smile, as if Y/N wasn't pointing her sniper at her. "You don't know the week I just had ! My father was kidnapped, I wanted to save him, but I discovered that he was a murderer who had bombed a city, and all the people I met tried to kill me, and…"

"Hey. I don't remember asking you to tell me about your life, vaultie."

"Oh, sorry ! It's just that I got lost. I was with someone heading to a place called New Vegas, but a big monster pulled him into a hole, then this thing attacked me. You seem nice, and I could use some help…"

"No."

“Wait. But wait !” the girl begged, following her as she went to carve the yao guai. Not the best meat, but she had just wasted five bullets for that, and the noise had either scared away the easy preys or attracted the attention of the dangerous ones.

Y/N vacillated between ignoring Lucy and threatening her, asking her to leave, but after exchanging names, the vaultie seemed to have decided that they were now best friends and should stay together.

No doubt taking her savior's silence as an invitation, she continued to talk about what had happened to her, between her meeting with a man named Maximus, and the inhumane treatment she had suffered at the hands of a mercenary.

Completely incoherent, she ended her story by explaining that she had abandoned her potential boyfriend to go on an adventure next to the guy who tortured her, with the aim of finding her dad and discovering who had destroyed the entire planet.

It was quite funny, because Lucy reminded her a bit of herself before. Y/N wondered if Cooper had seen her like that when they met, a lost and stupid thing.

At the same time, the girl's reasons for living were the same as the Ghoul. Find a family member and take revenge on Vault. Amusing. Maybe they would be very happy together.

If we forgot the fact that Lucy thought that no one should be killed, that everyone was nice, and mutual help was a fundamental notion, to start again. Ugh.

"So, some free advice, if you want to avoid having your tongue cut out, remember that it is not a good idea for a little vaultie who grew up in a palace to give big moral lessons to people who have been doing what they can to avoid dying for years, sometimes centuries."

"Why do you call me that ? You come from a vault too, right ? My pitboy picked up yours."

"Hang on. I am a victim of the cruelty of politicians and businessmen, betrayed by my own country and only alive by luck, or bad luck. You are a little vaultie. Now get away before I strangle you."

Lucy continued to follow her. And Y/N could have killed her, she really could have. This wasn't her first rodeo. She had killed a lot of people for less than that. But she didn't really want to.

Maybe she had been alone for too long. Maybe she felt sorry for this girl, like Cooper had felt sorry for her.

A deal was found. If Lucy could keep her mouth shut, then Y/N would help her find her friends so she could resume her main quest. Their paths would then part ways, and everyone would be happy.

Especially Y/N.

Because if she often talked about her dear Max, the little vaultie didn't seem so eager to find her survival partner. This was understandable, since he had tried to kill her several times, shooting her, cutting off her finger, using her as bait, and selling her.

Compared to this guy, Y/N was a saint, an angel from heaven, the perfect friend. When she offered the girl a bottle of non-irradiated water, she seemed about to ask her to marry her.

“You must be the only person in all the wastelands with good water !”

"It doesn't come cheap. But… I made a promise."

“My lovely traveling companion forced me to drink disgusting water and eat a man.”

"Charming."

Even though she seemed sweet and pure, Y/N continued to be wary of Lucy, sleeping with only one eye open and waiting for the moment when she would try to stab her in the back. First rule, don't trust anyone.

It had happened before. Never again.

Even after three years, the wound was still raw.

It was only when she saw the fear and regret in Lucy's eyes that Y/N restrained her action, yet ready to plant her blade the moment she had shown her the photo, taken out of her bag, asking her if it was her family.

Cooper hadn't been her family. He had been an asshole, who had manipulated her, who had made her believe that he loved her, and that she could love him, before abandoning her like a dog on the side of the road.

"Be careful with this Maximus. Men never change. He will take what he wants from you, and you will be hurt."

“He’s not like that.”

"I didn't think Coop was like that !" she shouted, really getting angry for the first time at Lucy, who jumped. "Yes, I loved him ! I trusted him ! It was stupid of me and I will never make that mistake again ! I hope he died in a hole, alone and in pain !"

"… Can I throw the photo away then ?"

“Give that back !” Y/N said quickly, snatching the only souvenir he had left from her hands and putting it safely in her pocket.

Lucy's sad smile indicated that she wouldn't have destroyed the photo. How sorry she was, for having gone through her things, and for having caused her pain by forcing her to talk about this man who had been so important. Also that she was happy, to see that despite her speeches, Y/N still cared for someone, even if she didn't want to.

She had never told anyone about it. It had been a long time since she had said his name, except when she woke up from a nightmare, in the middle of nowhere, calling for him like a child.

Lucy continued to smile, because for her, there must be another explanation for her precious Coop's behavior. She continued to call him Coop, even after Y/N threatened to make her eat her rotten finger.

"I know you don't like talking about him…"

“If you know that, shut up.” Y/N muttered as she continued walking towards New Vegas, trying to ignore the stream of words from the stupid vaultie, bingeing on romance novels and patriotic films.

"From the few things you agreed to share, Coop cared about you. He protected you, he taught you to defend yourself, he gave you a picture of his daughter. For me, this are proofs of love. Actions speak louder than words."

“He promised to come get me and I’m still waiting.”

"Wrong ! You left, you know how to hide perfectly, and you do everything to avoid him ! So, maybe he's been chasing you all this time and you don't know."

"What I do know is that the main clause of our deal was that you would stop talking so much, especially if it was to give such ridiculous and inappropriate advices."

They finally arrived at their destination after several weeks of walking. No sign of Lucy's friend on the way though. Perhaps he had died, or had not continued on his own.

It was clear that he wanted to use the daughter of vault 33 overseer to achieve his ends, and now that he had lost her, there was no point.

The city amazed the girl. It was the first real city she discovered, instead of those piles of ruins full of dust and vermin that were found in the four corners of the wastelands.

Her enthusiasm almost made Y/N laugh. A bit like how she had often made Cooper laugh without meaning to.

Damn, she needed to stop thinking about that bastard so often. Her mother was always saying that we manifest things through emotions and thoughts.

Her poor mother, long dead, but who had always been right.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, Y/N was crouched behind a wooden crate, watching Cooper Howard, fucking Cooper Howard, sitting near the casino, seemingly waiting for someone.

Seeing her, Lucy began to ask her what she was doing, her gaze following hers, and then the reaction was strange. Everything about this girl was strange anyway.

She started to smile.

Worse, she waved an arm at the Ghoul in greeting, opening her mouth to get his attention as she realized it wasn't enough, his cowboy hat falling over his face.

Y/N quickly grabbed her arm to pull her towards her, asking her what she was playing.

"It's the mean bounty hunter who accompanies me !" she replied happily, as if everything was normal.

For a moment, Y/N wondered if Lucy was making fun of her. If from the start, this was just a horrible joke against her, the continuation of a torture started in this seedy bar.

Then she told herself that if someone made fun of her, it was just fate.

Because she remembered that she had only described Cooper, continuing not to have any particular interest in his condition as a ghoul, and with her goodness as a jug, Lucy had not wanted to reduce him to his appearance either.

The difference was that he didn't give his name to his new pet.

“I knew you were an idiot, but not that much.”

"What ? Why ?" Lucy wondered, slightly offended and trying to free herself.

"You can't trust him. You already know that, why do you want to go back with him ? Look… I can help you find your father, okay ? Find Max. Whatever you want, but let's avoid this bastard and let's leave quickly."

"Golden rule. We said we would wait near the casino, he's there, I'm not leaving him."

With this serious look, the vault dweler would almost have looked frightening. Almost. It was mainly because it was obvious that it was impossible to reason with her that Y/N let her go, not waiting for her tirade about great friendship and the need to stay together to run as far as possible.

If Cooper noticed them, she didn't give him time to really see her, nor to catch up with her or shoot her.

Y/N didn’t turn around to check. Not because she was afraid of him chasing her. But because she was afraid that not only would he not pursue her, but she would also see him with Lucy.

Because even though he had tortured her, insulted her, threatened her… He was in front of the fucking casino waiting for this girl. And it really hurt.

[fandomobbsessedb]

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

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• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

[newvegascowboy]

"Hit me," Red says, apropos of nothing.

Although, Arcade muses to himself after a second of reflection, Red's motives are usually too impulsive and insane for Arcade to understand anyway.

"Why?"

"Because I want to see something," Red says. "So hit me."

"I'm not going to hit you, Red."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm-" Arcade cuts himself off. The word busy dies on his tongue. Red wouldn't buy it - they'd cornered him in a shady section of the fort, taking an over long break and debating the wisdom of having a smoke, free from under the eye of doctors who might tell him that he knows better. Like a specter, Red had appeared to alleviate his boredom. Or enable bad decisions. With Red, one never knew. "Because," Arcade finishes lamely.

Red grins, because it's a shitty excuse, and they both know it. "I know you're hidin' some muscle under that ratty old lab coat." One finger prods at Arcade's chest. He resists the urge to slap it away. "So use it."

"Usually if I hit someone, they've done something to deserve it," Arcade says.

Red's ever present smirk broadens. "Haven't I?"

Grudgingly, Arcade mutters, "Not lately."

"I could call you mean names if you like."

"You're a child." To Arcade's embarrassment, it comes out sounding fonder than he intends. This time, he does push the offending finger away.

Red huffs a little laugh, tilting their chin up. "I've been called worse."

"No doubt," Arcade says mildly.

"Prick."

Arcade laughs, a short snort of laughter he attempts to cover by looking away, towards the courtyard of the Fort, where Followers and Freesiders alike are bustling about. It's an overcast day - not cool by any means, humid and warm, but the world is taking advantage of the absence of the Mojave's merciless sun, however brief. Maybe, if they're lucky, it'll rain. The monsoons are fabulous, short lived, destructive and violent like everything else in this godforsaken desert, but Arcade would welcome the change of pace.

He turns his eyes back to Red, damnably two inches taller than him and always standing in such a way that forces Arcade to acknowledge it. "Work on your playground insults, cowboy. I'm not that easily riled."

"Liar," Red laughs. It is, regrettably, true. At least when it comes to Red. "Besides, I'm saving my better insults for when I need 'em."

"Do you anticipate needing them soon?"

Red shrugs. "You never know."

"No, you don't anticipate much," Arcade says. "Not much of a planner."

"I find that life is more exciting when it surprises me."

"I might agree with you," Arcade says, "If the surprises that usually involve you didn't take the form of bullets."

"Not always bullets. Sometimes bombs."

"Wonderful," Arcade says dryly.

"Come on," Red says, drawing the word out in a petulant whine unbecoming an outlaw of their fearsome reputation. "Don't be such a homebody. See something new."

"Where exactly are we going that you expect me to get into a fist fight?"

"The Ultra Luxe."

Arcade's mouth twitches. He glances Red up and down. "The Ultra Luxe," he repeats. "Tell me, are you planning on wearing dirty jeans and chaps, or did you have a set specifically made?"

"Ha ha," Red says bitingly, rolling their eyes. "I own nice clothes, asshole, I just don't run around the wasteland in rhinestones."

Arcade eyes the portion of Red's unbuttoned shirt, displaying a generous slash of tanned and muscled skin. Their rosary dangles from their neck today, glinting in the weak sun, over a belt buckle that reads 'Cocky'. "Maybe you should," he murmurs.

"I thought I was the one antagonizing you?"

"Do a better job," Arcade shoots back. "Or have you lost your touch?"

Red sniffs, drawing back and crossing their arms. "Prick," they say again.

"Why me?" Arcade asks. "Why not Veronica? Or Boone?" Or Cass, Red's one-time paramour - but he doesn't know if they're on speaking terms. Arcade isn't sure he knows the story there, and isn't sure he wants to.

Red snorts. "Boone? He's worse than I am for what I have in mind."

"And Veronica?" She's better at a fistfight than Arcade, that's certain.

"I already asked. Apparently, her version of a good night at the Luxe doesn't involve bloodshed."

"Neither does mine," Arcade mutters. Red only smiles. Sighing, Arcade pulls off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. "If I hit you, can we be done with this conversation? I do have work to do."

The look on Red's face says that Red does not believe him in the slightest, but they nod, stepping back. Arcade replaces his glasses and shrugs out of his lab coat, laying it over a nearby crate. He unbuttons his cuffs rolling up his shirtsleeves, and tries to ignore Red's smirk.

"I like the show, Gannon, I do. Really feel like I'm gonna get it."

"Keep running your mouth, and you will."

Red's grin turns sharklike. "Is that supposed to turn me off?"

Lifting his fists, Arcade sighs. "I don't think anything does," he says, and swings.

His fist hits nothing but air. Red sidesteps his first swing with ease. Arcade frowns, stepping forward and swinging again. Boots scuff the gravel as Red steps back, moving with an ease that someone their height, with the broadness of their shoulders and dense muscle, should not be inclined to possess. They continue for a few more blows, Arcade swinging and Red deftly sidestepping, until Arcade drops his hands.

"I thought you wanted me to hit you?" He huffs.

"Yeah, you're doing a piss poor job, aren't you?"

Red doesn't seem offended, a small smile picking up at the corner of their mouth. Warm leather flexes as Red's gloved hand squeezes his knuckles, then drops and gently pushes his fist away. "Never knew you had it in you to fight dirty, Gannon."

Growling, Arcade steps forward, going low and from the left. It's a low blow - Red's blindspot - but he's seen Red in action enough times that he isn't surprised when their left hand flashes up and catches his fist.

And - Arcade should know this. He knows how good Red is in a fight, knows that Red is intimately familiar with the anatomy of violence and anything involving it. If there is one thing Red does best above all, it is killing. Their blind spot would be a legitimate weakness if all Red's instincts didn't scream for them to compensate. If anyone managed to land that blow, Arcade has no doubt it would be the last thing they ever did.

"Maybe I just knew you wouldn't let me hit you."

Red's eyebrows raise the barest fraction. Arcade clears his throat, but doesn't glance away. "Well," Red says. "I am vain, I'll give you that much. I'd hate to let you ruin my good looks. You telegraph the shit out of your punches, by the way."

"Are we done here?"

"No." Red steps forward. Arcade's mouth thins. Gloved hands sieze Arcade's wrists before he can drop them. One boot slides between Arcade's legs, nudging his feet apart. "Bend your knees a little," Red murmurs. "There, like that. You're under-rotating your hips. Not putting as much power behind a punch as you could be. Gotta throw your body weight around a little, Gannon."

Red is close enough that all Arcade can smell is the mix of sweet tobacco and clove, leather and smoke that clings to Red's skin. There's something spicy underneath - pine, maybe. Cologne. Abruptly embarrassed, Arcade attempts to pull back, but Red's got a hold of his hands and their grip is firm.

Glancing up from under the frame of his glasses, Arcade watches as Red pulls his hand up. The knuckles of Arcade's right hand gently make contact with the left corner of Red's jaw. "There," Red says, voice soft and oddly intense. "You win."

Arcade doesn't have it in him to pull away. "Are we done?" He asks instead.

Slowly, Red releases him and steps back. They watch as Arcade unrolls his sleeves and retrieves his lab coat from the crate. Arcade shakes it out, lookjng for an excuse not to look at Red. Their little scuffle had gone unnoticed by the Followers at the Fort, but Arcade knows Julie will hear about it somehow, and will have stern words with him about fighting in the compound. What she doesn't understand, and what Arcade barely understands himself, is that it is seemingly impossible not to give Red exactly what they want. They talk around it, bicker and argue, and no matter how sound Arcade thinks his logic or willpower is, somehow he always caves.

When he finally looks up, the odd intensity that had possessed Red is gone, and they're smoking idly while leaning against the wall. Their eyes are turned out towards the compound, but they glance his way when Arcade looks up. Pushing off the wall, Red says, "I'll pick you up at seven."

"What?" Arcade says. "I never agreed to go to the Luxe with you!"

Red only blinks slowly. "Are you gonna wear that old lab coat," they start, "Or do you have something specially made?"

Arcade flushes. "You are such an asshole."

Red laughs and begins their retreat towards the gates. "Seven," they call, then turn on their heel and jog out of the fort.

Arcade sighs. Seven.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 19

I can't believe it, there is only one more chapter to go after this one and it'll be done. I'm really sad to see this one end. But as I've said in the past, I think it potential to be something more, so I'm having a good friend of mine read the story and let me know what she thinks.

We've got a lot of reveals to get through and a lot of twists to untwist. Buckle up, because the bumpy ride is ramping up.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

~

“Hello, Murray,” Billy said stepping out of the shadows of the woods into the small clearing. “Are you going somewhere?”

Keith hurried out of the trees to stand close to the Dominus.

“Billy!” the bald little man cried out. “Hey...so you survived. Again.”

Billy tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m special like that. Someone’s been a bad dog. Am I going to have to get the newspaper?”

Keith giggled next to him.

Murray smiled tightly. “Uh-huh. Dog jokes. Very funny. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’ve got places to be and can’t stand to chat.”

Billy chuckled darkly and walked up to Murray. He picked the man up by shirt collar. “You think you frighten me? I have survived your little machinations twice.”

“You should be afraid of me,” Murray huffed without even batting an eyelid at Billy’s rough handling. “I’ve been pulling the strings in this town for almost two decades. You are who you are because of me.”

Billy threw back his head and laughed. “You think you gave me this unlimited power, this beautiful body, this charm? Because that’s what got me where I am today. Not you weakening this town until it was ripe for the taking. Because I could have taken out Dr. Brenner without all of that.”

Murray wriggled out of Billy’s grasp and straightened his shirt. “You’re just some washed up beach bum with delusions of grandeur.”

Billy transformed. His bat form large and imposing. His chest expanded and wings sprouted from his back. His feet and hands became clawed and terrifying. His eyes were black and his fangs extended below his lips, glinting in the low light.

Billy roared, but before he could leap at the cocky werewolf, the manticore leapt from behind Murray and straight for his throat.

Billy and the manticore fought, ripping and tearing at each other but before Keith could leap into action Murray stabbed him in the back with a yew stake.

“This was a little gift from my benefactor,” he whispered as blood pooled from Keith’s mouth. “I could only use it the once, but I think you’re perfect for its use. Don’t you?” Keith fell to ground, the yew stake evaporating like dust on the wind. “Of course you don’t.”

A small white cat appeared at Murray’s feet, entwining itself among his ankles.

Murray looked down at it. “Why are you here, Sorcha?”

The cat sìth leapt to his shoulder to watch the battle.

“Fine,” he huffed, “don’t tell me.”

Far too soon in Murray’s opinion the manticore ripped off Billy’s head clean off. The body of the Dominus slid to the ground as the manticore tossed his head behind it.

“Wow,” Murray said impressed. “That was actually grotesque.”

Sorcha jumped down and walked up to the head. She opened her mouth and inhaled. A silvery mist came out of the mouth of the corpse’s head into hers.

“It is done.”

Murray blinked at her and looked around in confusion. “What the fuck? What’s done, Sorcha?”

She ignored him and walked up to the manticore. “You have held up your end of the bargain and we will hold up ours. May the road rise up to meet you.”

“And to you as well,” the manticore growled.

“You both can talk?” Murray asked, rearing his head back in shock.

“Will you explain it to him?” Sorcha purred. “I must return home. I grow weak in this magic wasteland.”

“Of course,” the manticore grinned. “Well almost all of it.”

Sorcha chuckled. “But of course.” And then like she was mist herself, she dissolved and was gone.

“What the fuck is going on?” Murray asked in fear. This had really slowed down his getaway. Alexei was waiting for him at that drug lord’s house.

“I will explain on the way,” the manticore growled. “The alpha has scented the battle.”

Murray’s eyes went wide and he grabbed his things, moving toward path that would take him to his mate.

Once they were far enough away from the clearing the manticore spoke.

“Billy isn’t a true vampire no more than you are,” the beast growled.

“Just how does that even work?”

“There are only two ways to become a vampire,” the manticore explained. “Either have the good fortune to be born as one or be bitten. To die a painful death to never breathe again. To have unlimited power but to never reproduce or enjoy the fairer aspects of life.”

Murray’s expression twisted in disgust. “Yuck.”

The manticore chuckled. “Yes, Billy felt the same as you, but he wanted the power that came with vampirism. Weres don’t live long enough to tempt Billy Hargrove. Oh no.”

“Sounds like he was fucked,” Murray muttered, scenting the air. There was no smell or sound of anyone near them, but he couldn’t put away his unease that he was in danger.

But that didn’t make sense. The manticore was bound to him. The beast couldn’t even break a sweat without Murray telling him to. But the sense of danger only heightened with each step.

“He knew something most people in this modern age had long forgot,” the manticore said with a hint of laughter in his tone.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“That real magic exists,” the manticore hissed gleefully. “He made a deal with Queen Titania. Serve her for one hundred years and he would be granted his wish. But Billy had no desire to actually be her slave. He managed to convince her to make him vampire first and then he’d serve her. He didn’t want to come out of the Seelie court in the year 2085 and not know anything.”

Murray shrugged. “Makes sense to me. I wouldn’t want to waste my life away in some Fairyland either.”

“Yes,” the manticore agreed. “But as soon as he got his power, he ran off to America outside of her power.”

“So she sent the cat sìth to hunt him down,” Murray guessed.

The beast nodded. “But by the time Sorcha found him he was too powerful to dislodge without some help.”

“So she enlisted you,” Murray concluded. “So what do you get out of this deal?”

The manticore merely grinned. “We’re here.”

Alexei popped his head up to the window and when he saw who it was, came running out, into Murray’s arms.

“We’re almost safe, my love,” Murray whispered. “Do you have the hostage?”

Alexei nodded. “She was too easy to catch.”

Murray chuckled. He had to give Steve props for tightening security but it’s a little hard to guard something you didn’t know could be taken.

“Go get her and bring her here,” he muttered. “I think we’re about to have company.”

Alexei nodded and trotted back to the boathouse. Murray pulled out a gun from his bag.

“Savage,” the manticore groused.

Murray chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect a beast like you to understand. You can’t change, you will always be what you are. A monster. But me? I use all the resources I have available to me. And that means guns and hostages.”

Murray grabbed the girl from Alexei’s grasp and pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple.

Then crashing out of the woods were Steve, Hopper, Jonathan, and Gareth. On Steve’s back was Tommy.

Tommy immediately leapt from Steve’s back as he suddenly transformed.

“Robin!” Steve called.

~

Once the fire had been put out and they took stock of who was wounded and who was just covered in someone else’s blood, Steve turned to find Tommy standing there, looking sheepishly at his feet.

“What are you doing here?” Steve growled. “I mean other than the obvious, spilling pack secrets.”

Tommy’s head shot up in shock. “You knew?”

“Since the town meeting.”

Tommy blinked at him a moment. “You never intended to mate with that vampire, did you?”

Steve scoffed. “It’s biologically impossible. You really should have paid more attention in school, Tommy.”

“Oh.”

He cleared his throat and then kicked at the dirt. “I actually was trying to warn Billy that they were going to attack, but I was too late.”

“Explain,” Steve growled. “And be quick.”

So Tommy explained everything. The deal he made with Billy, the information he had sold to him, and the puppet master and all his machinations.

Just then Hopper and Jonathan came tearing up to them, Gareth easily keeping pace behind them.

“Robin’s been kidnapped!” Hopper bit out, panting for breath.

Steve stood up straight. “Where would he go?”

“The clearing I spotted them in was near Lover’s Lake,” Tommy said. “Maybe they have a safe house near there.”

“Reefer Rick’s,” Hopper said gruffly. “He’s the closest thing Hawkins gets to a drug lord, but he’s got a house out there on the lake. He gets supplies air dropped on the lake and then goes out and scoops them up.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” He turned to Tommy. “You’re coming with. You’re the only one who’s scented the mate. Hopper, lead the way.”

The old wolf nodded and waited for Steve to transform. Jeff helped the keeper onto Steve’s back.

“I’m going to find out what’s keeping Eddie and Wayne,” Jeff said. “They should have been here by now. We’ll all meet up at the lake.”

Steve nodded and waited until Jeff had taken flight before the three werewolves and the gwyllgi took off, heading for Lover’s Lake.

~

Robin was struggling to stay on her feet, her height far greater than that of her captor caused her to almost have to kneel to avoid being choked by him.

“If Hopper had just removed Alexei’s banishment none of this would have happened!” Murray screamed. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Those weren’t kids they were Hunters!”

“He tore them to pieces, Murray,” Hopper said, shifting into a human. He held out his hand, trying to calm him. “It doesn’t matter who they were, or what they were planning. He should have gone to his alpha told him about the Hunters. Let the alpha deal with them. But he didn’t.”

WHOOSH!

The three vampires landed deftly behind the ring of Shifters.

“It was sadistic,” Wayne said with a sneer. “They were played with. Alexei isn’t well.”

“He didn’t have a drop of blood on him!” Murray protested.

Hopper stepped forward and Murray tightened his grip on Robin. “If you take one more step, Hop, I’ll blow her god damn brains out. I swear I will. If you move, her blood will be on your hands.”

Something thrummed deep inside of Steve. That was a call back to what he had told Hopper when Eddie had to use force to get Steve to come out of the compound all the way back to when this all started.

“You sent the Hunters after me,” he said coldly.

Murray sneered. “You alphas are always the same all brute and no intelligence. Yes, I did it all you dumb mongrel!” He pulled on Robin’s hair causing her to scream in pain. “All of it! Sara’s death by having Alexei tamper with her chemo, getting Hopper on as many drugs as possible, the murder of your grandfather and parents, Hopper’s kidnapping! But still you stupid alphas refused to see the truth! Alexei had been framed!”

Then a sleek, dark brown wolf oozed out of the forest, all danger and cunning. Nancy was one of the most beautiful purebred werewolves Steve had ever laid eyes on. She was everything that humanity had ever written on the subject of werewolves. He still loved her, because how could anyone not, but god he was glad he had Eddie now.

“He hasn’t been framed, Mr. Bauman,” she said her transformation even more fluid and graceful than Hoppers. “Not in the way you think. You two don’t belong here.”

“Nancy?” Wayne asked stepping forward. “What’s going on?”

“I belong here, you witch!” Murray screamed and Hopped instinctively took a step forward.

They all watched in horror and slow motion as he pulled the trigger, the muzzle flash, and the bullet striking Robin’s temple.

Then falling harmlessly to the ground.

Robin blinked a moment. “You aren’t using silver bullets?” she asked sheepishly.

Everyone was staring at her in shock, all but Steve who was chuckling.

“I wouldn’t use something that would accidentally get me killed!” he protested. “I’m not stupid.”

Robin grinned and then leapt out of his hold, bright and golden. A bitten werewolf. She turned in the air like she was made to be a werewolf. She was stunning.

She bounded straight for Murray’s throat and the gun went flying. She tore off a necklace he had around his neck and it too went flying the other direction.

“No!” Murray screamed. “Not that! You don’t know what you’ve done!”

The scorpion on the necklace began to pulse. Then it shattered in a blinding flash of light.

Standing in its place was the manticore. In all its freaky glory. The face of a human, the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion.

The manticore stretched out its lithe body. “The cat sìth made good on their word. I will have to thank them.” He turned to the crowd. “After I eat all of you, of course. It’s been so long since I’ve had such a buffet of delights.”

But as it leapt into the air, another creature appeared in the air behind it. It too had a human face but the body of a bird.

It began to sing about being still and quiet and everyone froze. The manticore crashed to ground in a crumpled form.

The siren grabbed the manticore by the mane and lifted it up into the air. He tossed it into Lover’s Lake like a rag doll. The beast howled and snarled as it was ripped apart by...

Seals?

Blood soaked the top of the water turning it dark red. Then one of the seals stepped out of the water and pulled back the seal’s head like the hood of a cloak. It revealed a red-headed girl with bright green eyes and freckles. Next to her the siren transformed into a chubby young man with wild hair.

“Barb?!” Nancy called out in amazement just as Jeff called out, “Brian!”

~

DUN! DUN! DUHHHHH! Hehehe. Cliffhanger!

Part 20

Tag List: THIRTEEN SPOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology @w1ll0wtr33 @dreamercec

[hsrjod]

Cooper Howard qotues

Why, is this an Amish production of The Count of Monte Cristo or... just the weirdest circle jerk I've ever been invited to?" – The Ghoul after being awoken

"Well, what makes you think I'd give a good goddamn about that?" – The Ghoul to Honcho about a bounty

"Well, I tell you what, boys, whenever somebody says... ...they're doing one last job, that usually means their heart's not in it. Probably never was. But for me, well... I do this shit for the love of the game." – The Ghoul to the bounty hunters

"You right, friend, about one thing. This right here was your last job. My paycheck wasn't quite what you expected, but... well, you know what they say. Us cowpokes... ...we take it as it comes." – The Ghoul while murdering Honcho

"Now, last night a bounty came in through all six agencies. A hefty price on the head of a man that fits the description of that fella right there. Now, I may not know much, but I do know a bidding war when I see one." – The Ghoul about the bounty for Dr. Wilzig

"Well, now, that is a very small drop in a very, very large bucket of drugs." – The Ghoul after being shot at by Lucy

"You got to be fucking kidding me." – The Ghoul after seeing Maximus' arrival

"Well, I'd say come up here and get me, but... it's hard to walk upstairs when you're wearing a 12-piece cast-iron skillet set." – The Ghoul to Maximus.

"Well, I guess basic training ain't what it used to be. 'Cause you drive that thing like a fucking shopping cart. Rule number one: read the manual." – The Ghoul taunting Maximus

"Yeah, well, the Wasteland's got its own golden rule. [...] Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time."

"Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella's got to eat a fella." – The Ghoul while harvesting Roger's remains

"I'll bet that outfit makes y'all fell like a big man, don't it? Well, I know 'cause, well I used to wear one back in the day. There was only one problem with it. There was a flaw in the welding just below the chest plate. I wonder if they fixed that in this new model? I guess not." – The Ghoul confronting the Brotherhood.

"Oh, you want another autograph, young Henry? Feo, fuerte y formal." – The Ghoul to Hank MacLean.

"When your daughter said her last name was MacLean, well, I just couldn't believe it was the MacLean. Hell, this kid used to pick up my wife's dry cleaning. Now, I've waited over 200 years to ask somebody one question. Where's my fucking family?" – The Ghoul confronting Hank MacLean.

"War never changes. You look out at this Wasteland, looks like chaos. But there's always somebody behind the wheel. And that's who I want to talk to. That's where your daddy is headed." – The Ghoul to Lucy Maclean.

John Hancock quotes

Of the people, for the people."

"Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit."

"What kind of settlement requires a test for entry?" – Referring to Covenant.

"Whoa, the Downs. Hope we're not going anywhere for a while." – Referring to Easy City Downs.

"That kinda bull is the reason I became mayor in the first place." – Referring to The Big Dig

"Damn. Hey, look, if you wanna get outta here..." – If taken to Nate/Nora's corpse in Vault 111.

"If someone needs help, we help 'em. If someone needs hurting, we hurt 'em. It's not hard."

"Like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies."

"Hey, does that play "Red Menace?" Love that damn game." – Accessing a terminal

"Looks like you can use a little pick me up." – Said when initiating dialogue with him as a companion (and him giving the player character a random chem)

"Whoa ho ho, I like you already! Walk into a new place, make a show of dominance. Nice." – referring to the Sole Survivor killing Finn

"Listen close. It's the last thing you're ever gonna hear." – When Sinjin tells the player character to stop speaking as The Silver Shroud

"Christ, it's bright in here. Clearly they didn't consider some folks might be nursing hangovers. " – Possible comment when entering Vault 81.

If completing The Big Dig with Bobbi No-Nose:

"How you doin' killer? Arms tired from all that digging? You know, my strongroom is surprisingly empty now..."

"Now if it was just the money, I'd rough you up, break a few bones, and then we'd be square once you paid me back. But you killed Fahrenheit. That means blood for blood."

When traveling naked:

"Hey Emperor, love the outfit."

"Let them stare."

"Don't mind me, just enjoying the view"

When committing Cannibalism:

"Suppose they're...beyond caring at this point"

"You...you do what you gotta"

"That one...all yours"

"At least you have the politeness to wait til they're dead"

When using chems:

"Two a day, keep reality at bay."

"Lean back and enjoy the ride."

"That's a good one, take it all in."

"Never trip alone."

When getting Addiction:

"You feel as bad as you look?"

"Wow, how much did you take?"

"'ay, you should slow down, and that's ME saying that"

When not responding while talking with him:

"Did I say something wrong?"

"You wanna talk? Make me a little nervous over here."

"What gives? I thought we were talking."

"Did your chems just kick in or something?"

"Like talking to a brick wall."

"Hmm, lights are on but no one's home."

"What? Mole rat got your tongue?"

"Uhm... You alright?"

"You check out on me?"

"Anybody in there?"

"That's right. Take it all in

After committing to a close relationship

"Words don't begin to do it justice. You, you're the best thing I got."

"Guess you're the piece I'd always missing...that and that toe I still can't find..."

"It's like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing... which happens sometimes when you're a ghoul."

"Nothing to lose but each other."

"Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky."

"You sure you wanna be stuck with this ugly mug?"

When Lover's Embrace is activated:

"Morning, sunshine."

"Well look at you. I must still be dreamin'..."

"Don't mind me... just enjoying the view."

Upon picking up junk:

"Careful! You don't know where that's been."

"That actually worth something?"

"If anybody could find a use for that."

Upon looting a corpse:

"Time to collect."

"To the living, go the spoils."

When the Brotherhood of Steel arrives in the Commonwealth:

"Holy shit." – When witnessing the Prydwen's arrival.

"Brotherhood knows how to make an entrance. I'll give 'em that." – When commenting on the Brotherhood

Cooper Howard VS John Hancock quotes these two has some good quotes it's hard to pick one for me I say both anyways you can use these for Headcannons, Edits, Memes, and so on I just put these here so it's easier for some people to use them I also tag people if your interested talk in the messages there open I have so many things I want to make but the next one is going to get Cooper Howard and John Hancock with Serena I was thinking doing a Picture Edit with some quotes and yes I do requests too.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

6. Divorced for You

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence.

From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen

Louis locks the door behind him before he takes my coat and purse. Johnny was already rolling a joint at my kitchen table. Louis mumbles a farewell as he disappears down the dark hall. Johnny lights up, offering the joint to me. I shrug, inhaling the bad habit. "That was a beautiful song you sang. It was real... raw. Might say it’s about someone special." He drags on.

The undying smile on my face grew even wider. "It was, but ya know how things go sometimes." Johnny takes the joint back, "So... The Cowboy?" I huff out a laugh, closing my eyes and nodding my head. "The cowboy," I confirm.

He nudges my arm, "Why didn't you say something? I could've put on a real show." "Because I didn't even plan on getting involved with him again." He ashes the joint in the tray. "Looks like the universe has other plans for you, my friend." I shrug begging the dopey smile to bugger off my face. "I don't know. I'm not going to get my hopes up. He's married." Johnny shook his head, eyes wide. "Not after tonight. I saw her face as I walked out. She was fucking pissed." I could feel myself gloating in victory.

~

The party winds down hour by hour. Guest leaving with smiles and stories to tell of the party at Cooper Howard’s house where they had the pleasure of seeing the angel herself sing. The door closes and the house is finally at peace. Barb walks through, lip sucked in, anger clear on her face. Peace, ha, Looks like I spoke too soon.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Her words falter as she struggles to hold her composure. “When?” She glares at my answer, “You know when.” Barb's words were soaked in sarcastic anger. Now or never I guess. I sigh, gesturing for her to sit down. “Sit down, Barb. We need to talk.” She shakes her head, “I’m not going to sit down! I can not believe you. You’re still sleeping with her, Coop! She’s ruined us!” “She hasn’t ruined us, Barb. You did. All the hours at work, the secrets you won’t tell me, the intimacy was long gone before I even met her. We were struggling long before she came into my life. You can’t deny that.” No tears, no frown, Barb grows a wicked smile on her face. “So that’s it then? You’re going to throw away everything we have? For her? She’s a fucking WHORE!” I toss my empty glass on the marble bar, the glass clinking loudly. “I love her, Barb.” She scoffs, “Oh? You- you love her? Well, how fucking sweet, Cooper. Who am I, as your wife, to stand in the way of that?” Barb stomps up the stairs and slams the bedroom door shut.

I couldn't help but begin to think of the ways I was going to tell (Y/n). A proper date would serve her right after all I have put her through. Yet the thought of surprising her amid the night churns my insides. I could slip into her room, undetected, silent. I could take the time to praise her smooth skin, count the freckles on her body, and memorize the scars in various places. I would whisper those precious three words into her ear a million times. By the time the morning sun rose and I was still there she would begin to question it. It would be then I could deem her mine, really mine. I can imagine the smile on her face. Would I get married again? Shit, if she asked me to, I'd pump a baby in her belly.

I nesed myself in the guest bedroom with a tired smile. It was settled, I'd be calling my lawyer in the morning.

~

It had been two days since Cooper told me he loved me. Yet, no calls, no visits, no contact whatsoever. Maybe it had been a drunken act of passion. I knew I was right to not get my hopes up. It was only something he did in the heat of the moment. I push my feelings down as I prep for the shoot. I put the astronaut helmet on my hip as I pose with an open glass of Nuka Cola. I stretch my lips wide in a picture-perfect smile, getting ready for the take.

“Ready I’m 3… 2…”

“YOU SKANK!” I look left toward the voice. Barb Howard rushed towards me, fury in her eyes. I stare at her out of shock, completely frozen in place. She doesn’t slow as she nears my frame. A foot away, Barb winds her wrist back. A harsh slap echoed through the set. The burn on my cheek stuns me into shock. I stare at her with wide eyes.

“I hope you’re happy. You two deserve each other.” She seethed with venom, yelling out, “fucking home wrecker!” I hold my reddened cheek as security grabs Barb.

The director stands, “Get her out of here!” She’s hauled off within seconds, the entire set is a chaotic scene. Louis grabs my shoulders, towing me out of my shocked state. “Are you alright? What the fuck was that?”

I nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” A small smile crept onto my face. It shouldn’t. I was just slapped in the face by the wife of the man I’ve been sleeping with for almost two years now, but I couldn’t help it. I had won him. Cooper Howard was all mine.

They shot the commercial 6 times, each time better than the last. The director claps, "Wonderful, (y/n)! Thank you everyone. That's a wrap!"

I practically skip over to the makeup tent, having the makeup wiped, the hair brushed down, and the accessories taken away, the smile never leaving my face. Louis grabs my cheek, his eyes examining the red mark. "You're going to edit that for the ad, correct?" The hum of the assistant was all he needed.

He stares at me in the mirror, "Do I want to know?" My cheek reddened with a blush. "Cooper and I talked at the party." He raised his brows, a knowing smirk, "just talked?" I bite my lip unable to hold it back, "He said he loved me." Louis slapped my arm with a gasp.

I couldn't get home quick enough. I was waiting on the phone all night. Friends in and out, but I was only concentrating on staring at my phone on the wall. Maybe if I could telepathically send him a message, he would call. Sadly, it got late, the sun had set and the stars of the California sky lit up the night. Johnny, Louis and I sat outside by the pool. I swish my glass of wine, singing along to the radio softly.

"Holy shit." Louis laughs and sits up staring at the gate. I perk up, following his gaze, my smile growing. I bite my lip.

Cooper waves a hand from the other side of the fence. Louis pats Johnny's shoulder, "I think that's our cue, John." Johnny stands, tossing his arm over Louis. "Need some company?" I watch the two walk inside making doe eyes for each other.

I open the gate with haste, but trying to contain my excitement. I didn’t want to come off as too desperate. I was still mad at him for treating me the way he did on set.

Cooper stands at attention, in all his glory. "What are you doing here?" His eyes sparkle as he takes a step onto my property. He snakes an arm around my waist, bringing us close. He kisses my forehead. "I wanted to see my girl. I heard you had a shoot today for Nuka. I wanted to surprise you, but I didn't want to distract you." He tucks a strand away behind my ear, before running a finger down my cheek, down the same cheek his wife slapped. "You would've been the least distracting thing there." I roll my eyes continuing, "Barb showed up. She slapped me and screamed that I was a home wrecker." Cooper's hold on my waist tightened, his eyes mapping out my face, staring at the faded mark. His eyes darken as he traces the remembrance of his wife’s fingertips. “She’s never going to lay another hand on you again. I’ll have a damn restraining order put on her before she ever thinks about acting like that again.”

I shrug, separating myself from him. Making my way down the path to the pool. I grab my wine glass, finishing the remaining drink. “It’s not like I didn’t deserve it. I did sleep with her husband.” Cooper snags his arms around my frame once more from behind, he dips his head down, lining my neck with kisses. “Ex-husband,” he whispered into my ear, nibbling at my lobe. The words perk my interest. The sick smile spreads across my face, “so you really told her?” “I told her I loved you and then Monday morning I called my lawyer. He’s drafting up a separation document now.”

Cooper stays present on my neck, pampering me with kisses. His hands snaked over my chest brushing my breast, pulling a light moan. I wanted him more than ever. I could finally have him, but here we are just toying around.

“I just have one question for you, sweetheart.” He gropes my breast, pushing into me from behind. “It’s been worrying me for days.” I ring my fingers through his hair, leaning back to look at him through hooded eyes. Cooper stares down at me, he grabs my chin in his hand, "Did you fuck him?" His eyes don't leave mine. I can feel each breath fanning over my cheeks. “Did you?”

I shake my head, "No." we never did, truthfully. We made out but never once did we even get close to having sex.

Cooper spins me around and wraps his arms around me, caging me in. He leans in kissing me, staggering us both backwards onto the sofa inside the pool house. As we hit the plush cushions he breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He looks at me with his mesmerizing eyes, “I've been a fucking mess without you, sweetheart. I want you so badly.”

“Nothing stopping you,” I say in a whisper hovering against his lips. Trying to pull him in, aching for his touch. He smirks, kissing me again. He kisses down my neck, suckling on the cleavage of my chest, before planting himself on his knees. He flicks the button of my pants. “Mind if I take these off?” I shake my head lifting my lower body. He peels them from my legs, rubbing his hands up and down my skin.

He starts rubbing through my panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over my inner thighs. His touch is euphoric. He runs his tongue over the fabric, “You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you. I can promise you that sweetheart.” he mumbles against my thighs, and rub circles over my clothed clit. I rested my head against the pillows, gripping onto the back of the arm of the couch.

"You're mine, (Y/n)." He slides my panties off in one swift motion. I beg for him with the thrust of my hips. "Please," He smirks up at me, running one digit between my soaking lips. "I need to hear you say it, honey." I would do anything for him, I breathe out with ease, "I'm yours, Cooper. I always have been."

He cupped my whole cunt with his hand, making my hips buck up into his touch and a low moan left my throat. “And you always will be.” He whispered and gave my thigh one last kiss. His lips wrapped around my clit and I moaned, bucking my hips against his mouth. He smirked against me and put one hand over my hips to hold me still as he did wonders against my cunt. His tongue swirling as if I were his last meal, ripping moans from my throat.

“Oh, fuck” I moaned, pulling at his hair “Coop– God” He hummed and groaned against my pussy sending jolts of pleasure through my body. He teased my pussy with his finger, slowly entering and stretching me out, hooking up and rubbing right at that spot he knows so well. I cover my mouth trying to hold back my cries. He drowned me in pleasure. I had missed every inch of him.

“Fuck, right there– Shit” The knot inside tightens, my pussy clenching around his fingers. “Cum for me, honey,” He said and quickened his movements, pulling louder moans from my lips. “Fuck!” I groaned loudly as I came against his lips, my orgasm ripping through me like a truck. I close my eyes in bliss, my fingers tightening in Cooper's hair. He helped me ride my orgasm. He slipped his fingers out, licking them clean. He drew up my body, pressing a kiss to my lips, I moan out tasting myself. His chin glistened with my cum.

Cooper holds me close, his hand resting on my cheek, "(y/n), I have one more question for you.” I look into his eyes, “yes?” He flashes that famous smile, “could I take you to dinner tomorrow night?” I pull him in, pressing my lips to his in a deep kiss. “Of course you can.”

~

I woke with an ache in my back, the guest bedroom wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Especially, when I came home around 3 from (y/n)‘s. I stretch before standing to my feet. I open the door, feeling the unexpected weight lifted off my shoulders. As my feet hit the ground the front door opened just indicating how late I had been sleeping. “Daddy!” Janey tackled me with joyful laughter as I exited the kitchen with a cup of coffee. “There you are!” The pure innocence in her eyes brings a smile to my face. Barb walks towards the kitchen one single file in hand.

“Janey, go upstairs and pack your school bag. Then you can come down and help me make some lunch. Then, after dinner, your dad's going to take you out for some ice cream.” Janey rushes off at the request of her mother.

By the time Janey’s feet hit the stairs, Barb was standing before me and presented a manilla file. “This is a separation agreement Vault Tech has drafted. They were so gracious to offer their lawyers on my behalf. They spoke with your lawyer and negotiated on what you drafted up with them. The proposal is more than fair.” The harshness I expected wasn’t there. The same cold shoulder she had been treating me with was gone. Instead, she was calm as she explained a decent visitation schedule for Janey, a financial plan, and a plan to divide up assets as well. “You understand I will get the house. Janey needs to keep her stability. She’s used to you going off and traveling.”

The sudden change in her behavior has me chilled to the bone. “Why are you so calm?” She tilts her head at my question, looking at me as if I’m the crazy one. “You wanted this, Cooper.” It’s true, I did. “I know, I just… you’re taking it… strangely well.” She shrugs, “Vault Tech was persistent in getting it done quickly and as easily as possible. Less stress to deal with.” Of course, they were. Something is just too easy about this… “I figured on Thursday we could sit Janey down and tell her.” I stare at her with wide eyes as she flips through the pages of the agreement.

[fandomfics]

The Trouble with Love

Part 6

Pairings: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x John Hancock x Fem reader

Description: After your brush with death, you face a new challenge. Communication.

Master List here

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️

No smut, sorry (next one though 😉)

Mentions of suicide, insecurity, violence, drug use, alcohol

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hancock lays in her bed, immobile from his recent trauma. This is torturous for the charismatic mayor of Goodneighbor, if he can't get high and wander town talking with the people, helping solve asinine problems, he can't push his own problems away. He's alone with his own thoughts far more than he would like to be, especially at this moment. He saw the pain and disappointment in her eyes when he came to and almost felt regret for his actions. Almost.

The regrets of his past molded him into a man of action, he would no longer stand idly by as others were subjected to pain and torment. Possibly watching the love of his life suffocating slowly, not knowing if he would spend eternity with her remains, he just fucking couldn't.

He had never thought of himself as a particularly important person. Goodneighbor didn't need him anymore, the people took care of each other now. He jumped at the chance to leave town, told her it was because people in power don't deserve to be comfortable for too long, but it was more than that. He felt like he was no longer needed, he played his part, there were no lines left for him.

She is important. She has been a blessing to the Commonwealth in so many ways. The hero that everyone knows, except herself. She calls herself a merc, and that may be in the standards of the time she came from, but here in the wasteland her morals are clear. She gave him a renewed sense of purpose, she is his savior. She is more important than he could ever be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After retrieving the locket John had for you in his office you make your way to The Rexford. With the amount of wounds and crushed bone he's going to be bed ridden for at least a couple days, time enough to figure out where to go from here.

Your love for him is more than you ever thought you could feel again, and this mess is complicated. You want to punch him, kiss him, kick him out, hold him tight, scream at him. Mostly though, you just want everything to be normal again.

"This is nice and all," you say holding the necklace aloft in front of you, "but it doesn't make up for anything."

"I don't expect it to," he looks down at his hands with a weary smile "and I would understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Do you know how long it took me to not have nightmares every night about what happened to Nate?" You ask as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed, tears welling in your eyes, "Too fucking long. You made me live that again. I woke up across from my dead partner for the second time in my life." The tears start to flow freely. Hancock reaches up a hand to wipe the tears from your face but you flinch away. The pain etched in his face as you recoil punches through your chest leaving behind a hollowing pain of your own.

"I'm sorry love, but I don't regret it." He looks into your eyes, determined for you to see he means what he says, "Send Fahrenheit up. She can help me move to the statehouse. "

You sit in stunned silence, his words cut deep. When you finally move it's towards the door, "Cooper will help you too. " You say without looking back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A few hours later you lay in Cooper's arms, curled into his chest crying as his hand strokes your hair.

"I just don't understand why he couldn't listen, why he had to do that."

"Let me give ya some insight Darlin', your death is permanent. Him and I, we have a li'l more of an advantage, but we would still risk it all to save you."

"You're on his side?"

"Ya gonna tell me that ya wasn't ready ta risk yer life ta save his? Like ya always fuckin have?"

You pull back, ready to fight him, tell him it's different, but you can't find the words. He's right, you were willing to die to make sure Hancock lived. All three of you would die to save each other, a blessing and a curse in a dangerous world.

"I-I...would have died for him too." You whisper. The pain still ebbs and flows through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut "Fuck."

Cooper shushes you and pulls you in tighter, "Yeah sweetheart. Get yerself together, let's go see him."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"He said he doesn't want to see either of you." Fahrenheit says through gritted teeth, hand on Cooper's chest.

"Bullshit, you think-"

"Cooper, it's fine," you say cutting him off "can you just tell him I'm sorry, and I want to talk through this?"

"Sure." She says simply

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Shattered bottles and empty chems litter Hancocks office in the statehouse. He lays on his couch wondering how much he'll need to forget everything while his legs heal up. From the open window he hears Cooper raise his voice before being cut off by hers.

He knew this whole thing could go sideways. No one ever stayed after things took a serious turn in the relationship. That short time of bliss was the happiest he'd been in his life, but it wasn't worth the pain he caused her. The gut wrenching feeling in his stomach persists, even after hearing her, he knows he can't be with her. He can't even go a couple weeks without fucking things up. It wasn't fair to her, he doesn't deserve her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I don't understand where his mind is at, but I want to...what if he never wants to talk to me again?"

"Then there's nothing ya can do, sweetheart. Ya hurt each other. Pretty bad too. Just give it some time."

"I have. It's been three days. I can't do this anymore, it's so fucking painful."

You march back into the statehouse to find Fahrenheit in Hancock's office, door wide open as she shovels trash into a corner. The place looks like a tornado swept through and brought a pharmacy and a liquor store with it.

"Where is he?" You ask softly

"He left as soon as he could."

"Where?" Your voice becomes more urgent.

"Wouldn't tell you even if I knew."

You storm out of the statehouse in a huff, Cooper close on your heels as you quickly make your way into the third rail.

"Two bottles of whiskey Charlie." You exchange caps with the bot and grab a couple glasses from the counter before you make your way to the table closest to Magnolia.

Cooper eyes you as you open a bottle and pour him and yourself drinks. You get through half the bottle by the time the songstress has finished her set and wave her over. she eyes you and Cooper suspiciously as you slide the unopened bottle of whisky to her.

"You know the way to my heart," she says with a wink "now what can I do for you honey?"

"John talk to you before he left?"

"Yeah," she looks a bit puzzled, "came to drop off some papers. Gave me the bar."

"What the fuck....Coop, what is he doing?" You turn to your partner, eyes wide. Something is wrong. "Mags, where did he go?"

"Didn't say, exactly. Just that he might not be back for a long while. I did overhear him talking to Fahrenheit though. Something about going back to where it started."

"The strongroom."

You thank Magnolia and rush to the exit.

"Ya think he's really goin there?"

"I hope so. We need to hurry, I have a bad feeling...."

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It's not difficult to traverse the tunnels that you helped Bobbi dig when you first arrived in Goodneighbor. There are a few radroaches and mirelurks, but you and Cooper manage to take them out fairly easily. Time seems to slow in your haste, you feel an eternity passes before you reach your destination. You spend the entire journey spiralling from one terrible outcome to another. When you arrive at the strong room you hear gunshot after gunshot, no sounds of people, just metal on metal as bullets ricochet off of train cars.

You peak your head into the room and see Hancock, bottle in hand, shooting at nothing.

When he pauses to reload you call out to him.

"John, it's me."

"Leave."

"Quit fuckin' around Hancock." Cooper yells sternly as he walks up through the opening, exposing himself to the other ghoul. "Let's just have a quick chat, and if ya still want nothin ta do with us, we'll go."

"Fine, if it will get you to leave me alone." He says before taking a hit of jet.

He sits by a fire in a rusty old lawn chair, in the dim lighting you see his expression. He looks... empty. You run to him, falling to your knees at his feet, looking him over, he stares into the fire without acknowledging you.

"John please look at me." You plead, tears in your eyes. You see something stir in him but he doesn't look at you.

"Fine." You whisper, "then just listen."

He seems to focus harder on the fire as you continue.

"You hurt me, but I hurt you too. We both fucked up. I should have listened to what you had to say, talked through it...trusted you. I would do anything for the people I love, why wouldn't I expect you to do the same. I'm sorry I let you do that alone. I shouldn't have let you go back to the statehouse to heal alone either. I'm sorry. "

He rubs his eyes with one hand and leaves his face buried in it.

"Okay."

"That's all? Really? Are you done...with me?"

His silence is deafening.

Out of nowhere Cooper is in front of Hancock and his fist slams into the side of his face . "The least ya can do is give the lady an answer!" He grabs a fist full of Hancock's coat and pulls his arm back, readying another strike. At the same moment you move forward to keep him from hurting Hancock anymore, his elbow collides with your chest and sends you to the ground knocking the breath out of you. Cooper looks back to you registering what just happened, giving Hancock an opening.

Finally something in him snaps and he pulls his gun up and shoots Cooper in the shoulder. He stumbles back in surprise and releases Hancock, who is immediately at your side.

"Are you hurt?" He finally seems concerned.

"No, but I'm fucking confused."

Cooper now kneels at your other side and reaches for your hand to pull you up, "I'm so sorry darlin', ya'lright?" you slap his hand away and stand on your own.

"Go wait in the fucking hole" you snap, pointing to the way you had come from. He sulks off to the opening and disappears. With your hands on your hips you turn back to Hancock.

"I don't matter, but you do. I don't want you out here risking yourself for me when I get caught between life and death. If I go, it's fine. I've done all the good I can do in this world. Within two weeks together you've nearly died and I've caused you so much pain.... Even if I knew you could never be hurt physically, I just can't do this to you. I don't deserve your time. It was a dream to think any different."

"Ultimately I can't force you to stay, but all that was bullshit. You saved me, and I was upset about it, until I realized I was trying to do the same thing. Because you matter. You are so fucking important to me. We can make this work, we just need to be honest and talk through our shit. I don't want to do this without you. Just a few days not knowing if you wanted to ever see me again was agony."

"Sunshine, I want to see you every second of every day." He cups your cheek in his hand, "that's why I left. So you couldn't convince me to be selfish and stay."

"My life is at risk is the wasteland whether you're there or not. I want you to be selfish. I want you to be happy. I want you to be with me."

He is hesitant, you see the struggle in his eyes, but he just can't help himself. He pulls you close and kisses you deeply and you melt into his touch.

"We're gonna have to set some ground rules on sacrificing ourselves for each other though." He says as he finally pulls away.

You nod as you grasp him tightly.

[honoriotsusuki]

𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝!𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: abusive father and heavy manipulation (also implied gaslighting) parental abandonment and somehow angsty fluff

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

☀️ Okay, so this idea came to me a few minutes ago, and I don't wanna forget it, so here we go-

☀️ Let's not debate how you got the healing hair because that would be A nightmare

☀️ So, for the sake of this, let's say your parents were well-known eristrochrats from Shnezneya.

☀️Once Dottore heard of a child with hair that could heal and keep someone young forever, he just grappled to that opportunity.

☀️He basically took away their status and fame and took their newborn baby with them.

☀️Once Dottore figured out he couldn't just chop the hair off he settled for raising you as his kid.Just saying you got your appearance from your mother

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

☀️ Dottore managed to be worse than Mother Gothel somehow by just manipulating your entire world view.

☀️ By that, I mean he made you think children never left their parents and that the outside world was practically A wasteland of thieves and death.

☀️ The more realistic books he gets you as a child are literally altered to make the world seem unforgiving and horrifying.

☀️ Also, he never tells you about the Fatui. He tells you He's a successful scientist who wishes to help those across the world, and that's why he's always gone for so long.

☀️ In reality, most of the time you will see him it will be his clones. And of course, you always sense something is different. but you chock it up to a bad mood or something else.

☀️ Dottore would pretty much get you anything that didn't support giving you freedom. Anything that would encourage you to stay would be yours in an instant

☀️ And of course, he would always tell you that brushing your hair was for bonding and because your hair had begun to grow very long.

☀️ You got your love of painting from books and the pretty pictures inside them. Dottore doesn't allow you to paint pictures of the outside world in fear that it will motivate you to leave.

☀️ He keeps Fatui guards outside the tower at all times to make sure nobody gets curious .

☀️ There was an incident where one of the low-level guards got curious and climbed the tower.

☀️ The guard was confused when he saw it just looked like a regular home. Nothing special or rare, just a basic home with odd books.

☀️ While the Fatui guard looked around, you were in your room, panicking at the idea that your father was right and someone was here to take you away from him.

☀️ In a stroke of terrible luck for the poor guard, Dottore just got home from work and was furious to find someone had entered.

☀️He rushed inside to find the guard snooping around, to which he knocked him out with a punch.

☀️You came out when you heard Dottores voice calling you and telling you it was safe

"Flower?" A familiar voice rang. The young child's ears piqued up at the sound. "Flower don't worry.Its safe now." The doctors voice rang.

The young child ran out of their room and down the towers stairs to find their father standing there with A warm smile,standing over the intruders body.

Tears pricked their eyes, and they ran into their fathers warm embrace and began to weep. Panicked sobs about how panicked and scared they were without him.

Dottore smiled at the child's dependence and let out a small shushing sound to try to calm them down.

"Now,now flower don't worry." He let out A gentle laugh. "Its alright,father's here."

Since their head was buried in his chest, they failed to notice the physcotic smirk that had spread across his face.

☀️yeah, you're not going anywhere

☀️at least not until you're twenty and get another even more odd intruder

[A/N]This was honestly a bit lazy, but I hope you enjoyed it! If you want a part two, then just ask, and I will be happy to supply.I actually have a few more ideas for this AU

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday:

"Responsible Adults", the sequel: Jak tries to do a regular Jak Stunt and is shocked that it doesn't go over well

(Roughly a week after this one ends. Long post warning, as most of these are lol)

Night terrors were not an uncommon experience for Jak. They may not have been his nightly companions anymore, but when he did have them, they were intense. He woke up in a corner of his room, wedged beneath the sink. There was a vague sense that he was taking cover from something, or someone.

Blessedly, he remembered no details of the nightmare. But the terror still sent his guts quivering the way they had in the prison. Huddled under the cot both for warmth and silently praying the boots wouldn't stop at his door. That he wouldn't end up Tyber's new punching bag when he got bored of the old man in the cell above Jak's.

Tyber is dead. Errol is dead. Praxis is dead. I watched them die.

Jak repeated the words like a mantra until he could move his limbs again. He crawled out from beneath the sink, but the lingering fear made his room feel claustrophobic. Smaller than it really was.

At least he hadn't woken Daxter this time.

Jak put on his boots, but didn't bother getting fully dressed. He didn't even know what time it was. Why bother if the doctor and the king guy were just going to nag him about being sleep-deprived anyway?

It must have been early morning, before dawn; the moon had vanished and people were outside doing repair work on houses and fog-catchers.

Early morning was the best time to get any outdoor work done in Spargus. A small girl led a flock of caprids out of the stables and towards one of the other districts to graze on the cactus there, and a gang of trainees only a little older than Jak were taking advantage of the temperature to do an endurance run around the city.

Personally, Jak didn't see the good of such things. You learned to be fast enough or smart enough to escape your enemies, or you didn't. He'd learned through life and death experience, not a footrace with no winners.

"Easy with the straps there!" A stocky man backed into Jak, calling up to a team of three people.

"Ope-! Scuse me there, pipsqueak." The Wastelander stepped to the side as if Jak was barely worth noticing.

"Howland, that thing ain't cinched tight enough!"

They seemed to be trying to remove a corroded beam from the supports of one of the multi dwelling houses. It was already leaning at a precarious angle, as big around as a grown man. If that beam came down the wrong way, it would take a lot of the adobe structure -- and probably a lot of people -- with it.

"It's fine, Daru!" Howland complained, "I just cinched it!"

"Well cinch it again! That sucker’s leanin'!"

Jak frowned, but let his curiosity wash away the dregs of the night terrors.

"What's wrong with it?"

The unofficial foreman tugged at a bushy red mustache and shook his head. "Don't rightly know yet. Could just be age. Sand storms and salt air will do a number on this kind of metal after a while."

Jak wondered if that had anything to do with Sandover using wood and stone almost exclusively. He was about to ask why it had been anchored to a mud wall when there was a loud metallic clang. The last bracket holding the beam snapped under the weight, and the straps weren't enough to hold it.

Jak didn't remember moving. But then he was there, with the beam on his shoulders and the foreman on the ground, having narrowly avoided being crushed to death. Cold metal dug into his hands, pressed down against his head, and Jak knew that by rights he should've been dead.

There was a thrill of revulsion in his chest when he reluctantly acknowledged that the only reason he was standing right now was that the dark eco experiments had lengthened his muscle strands to twice the size of a normal hu'men's. It wasn't just in his dark form. That element of...unnatural...was just with him. Every moment.

"Frith! Oh my- HOWLAND! GET DOWN HERE!" Daru roared, "YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"I got it," Jak said through gritted teeth. "Is there a place to put this thing down?"

"Not yet," Howland admitted as he shimmied down a ladder.

"We were going to cut it into pieces once it was secure, transport it that way to be recycled."

Jak craned his neck, but the motion jarred the beam. Hastily, he adjusted his grip.

"What's- What's around me?"

"Too much," said Daru grimly. "Just- Hold on, kid."

He winced at the boy's flat stare.

"Er...no pun intended. We're gonna, gonna get you out from under there, I promise!"

"Get it cut up first," Jak grunted, "And you won't have to worry about getting me out."

"And what if your hands get sweaty, huh?" Daru demanded, "Fat chance, little man! We're going to find something to hold this up!"

The other two men hurried down from the roof with saws in hand.

Oh gods. Handsaws. This was going to take a while.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, Damas should have been expecting trouble when he didn't start his day with a free heart attack after seeing eyeshine in the kitchen. The kid was diametrically opposed to the concept of sleep, so he wouldn't have been in bed. If he was off his routine -- and by now Damas had learned to dread something interrupting the kid's self-imposed routine -- then there was probably going to be trouble later.

When he refilled the fuel in the Beacon, fed the birds, and actually had a cup of coffee uninterrupted, he was suspicious.

When the sun rose and there were no echoes of truncated curses in the halls from guards running into Jak, he started to wonder if the kid had decided to work outside. Unusual, but as long as he didn't do anything that would make Dr. Petros yell at them both, more power to him.

But when the talking ottsel showed up in the throne room about an hour after dawn, frantically demanding to know where Jak was, Damas was concerned.

Those two were attached at the hip! Jak wouldn't have gone to look for work without Daxter.

There was a small crowd forming by the time Damas stepped outside. People were shouting encouragements, or conflicting advice about pulleys and snatchblocks. Had something fallen? Damas hadn't heard any impacts. As he began to pick his way through the crowd, the shouts took on new meaning.

"He's slipping! Somebody get under there!"

"How many more hands do you want? There's ten people holding the beam up!"

"Why won't he just let go?!"

"Standing this long, maybe his arms locked up-?"

A beam? People holding a beam-?

An accident. There'd been an accident and night watch hadn't caught it.

Thoughts of crushed citizens and mangled houses circled Damas’s imagination as he pushed through the rest of the crowd, close enough to hear the rasp of handsaws and the buzz of a lone angle grinder.

"Get the cart back in!" Someone yelled, "Next piece is almost off!"

From the looks of things, a crew of four had reduced a two-story high support beam by a third.

Ten Wastelanders were beneath the colossal pole, hands and shoulders braced against the metal as it shrieked and groaned. If even one of them slipped-!

Damas threw down his staff without thinking to join them, racing to catch the end beginning to slide.

"What happened?" he demanded, straining with the others to keep it from crushing the houses and themselves.

"Tie straps broke!" a man three people down called back, "If it weren't for the kid, it woulda come down right through the roofs of a couple houses!"

Kid?

Oh gods don't tell me...

Jak was standing in the very center of the line. His arms trembled, and sweat poured down his face. He didn't seem to hear anything happening around him, too focused on keeping his grip. He was beginning to pale.

"What's he doing here?!"

"Dunno!" A woman to the left answered. "He was already there when me and the girls showed up, but that was two hours ago."

"Hours?!"

Jak had been out here for hours, trapped, and Damas had been none the wiser?

"Why hasn't anyone gotten him out yet?!"

"We tried! The poor kid froze up!"

Damas gritted his teeth and pushed away images of the kid standing alone under that crushing weight for hours until help had woken up.

"Get a truck and winch out of the pit!" He ordered, "Forget damage to the streets, we'll fix it later! I want this thing taken care of now."

It took a full twenty minutes to get the Dozer through the narrow streets of the tower district. By that time, those who had been holding the beam first had cycled out for fresh arms to allow for water and eco. All except Jak. He'd accepted some water that someone poured into his mouth earlier, but still seemed to be unable to let go. He was at the fulcrum point, he insisted, and he wasn't going to let it tip. (Not that he thought he'd actually be able to move at this point.)

Fifteen people attached pulleys and cables to the beam from above, careful not to dislodge the hands of those below. When the cables had all been hooked to the Dozer's winch, the weight began, at last, to lessen.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled Wastelanders as the end of the beam tipped up and the rescuers eased the other end to the ground. There would be extensive damage to infrastructure to deal with. But nobody had died, and there were no major injuries, and Damas would count that as a victory. Shaking out aching arms, he hurried to the center of the line, where someone was physically holding Jak upright. Damas took hold of the boy's stiff arms carefully.

"It's gone," he said, easing the limbs down, "It's gone, let go, Jak. Come on, you're done."

The kid made a sound, a soft rasping whine that might’ve been words. Then he collapsed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When the world drifted back into focus, Jak didn't know where he was. The smell of eco lingered around him, confusing the other scents that could have identified his location. He couldn't move his arms. Why couldn't he move his arms?!

It took a massive effort just to pry his eyelids up. Jak’s breath caught harshly between his teeth as he forced himself onto his side.

Well, that explained the lack of mobility in his arms. He ached like he'd been fighting beyond his limits again. The injection sites would be agitated again, he knew without looking. The pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips, skin, muscle, and bone.

The room was a blur. Brown and yellow slowly settled into more colors, ending in something either white or pale blue in front of his nose. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he could see. Pills of thread, clinging to loosely woven fabric. The texture and shape of the warp and weft shifted as he tried to move his hand.

He hissed in pain.

"Well that's what happens when you try to make a career as a load-bearing wall."

Jak tensed. Not alone. Not with Daxter.

Biting down on the pain, he dug his fingers into the pallet beneath him and forced himself upright.

This wasn't the hospital -- small blessings -- but it wasn't his room either. There was a low wooden bedframe on a wall a few feet away, on the other side of some kind of half partition full of plants.

"Where...?"

"Well you're about to think of it as prison," Damas answered from the opposite direction.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over a cup of coffee. The empty pot beside him was a story of its own.

"By the way, you're grounded."

"What?!" Jak sputtered. He started to get up, but fell back onto the pallet with a grunt of pain.

"Like rot!"

Damas glanced back over his shoulder. "Take it up with the doctor. He put you on bedrest, not me. Better yet, blame your own self! You could've let go at any time once the rest of the district turned up to help!"

"The whole...district?"

Jak blinked.

"I don't...remember that..."

Damas sighed and peered into into his mug.

"You've been sleeping most of the day, I'm not surprised. Even with the eco you'll probably be sore for a while."

"How -- ow! -- long was I out there?"

Jak cringed at the look in Damas’s eyes when the man turned around fully.

"Four. Hours. Four hours! Why didn't you let go when others arrived?!"

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question.

"Be...cause...I'm not supposed to let other people get hurt?" Jak answered with slow confusion.

Damas stared in complete silence for several seconds. Then,

"You're insane. My foster-son is insane. That's insane! In what world is "throw the youngest under the pillar" a rational solution?!"

"Uh. Haven?" Jak muttered peevishly. He tried to sit up again. "Look, just. Tell me which way my room is and I'll get out of your hair."

Damas pushed his chair back with a scraping sound.

"Mn. No. What part of "bed rest" didn't you hear?"

In brusque motions, he knelt and pulled the blanket back over Jak.

"You are not to do anything even mildly strenuous, or Petros will strangle me. And since I apparently can't trust you not to willingly walk into harm's way unsupervised, you get to camp out in here, and I get to work from home for the next few days to make sure you don't go try to lift a car or something!"

Jak was appalled. "You can't do that!"

Dry as dust, Damas retorted, "First of all, I'm king. Secondly, I'm your legal guardian. Yes I can."

Jak groaned in frustration.

"Where's Daxter?"

"Not grounded."

"Oh come on!"