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roseghoul26 · 5 hours

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Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Tags: Teasing, Flirting, Developing Relationships, Injury, Kissing, Cunnilingus, Synopsis: It had been apparent from the moment you met him that The Ghoul was Cooper Howard, your favorite actor. He had no idea that you knew who he was, so how could you not have some fun with it? Author’s Note: i’ve watched nothing but bridgerton recently and now i keep finding myself writing the way they speak also i’ve got no clue how radiation and water interact to just pretend what i wrote is true okay? also if you got the notif for the first upload of this fic, no you didn't :) Taglist: @ancientbeing10 @alex-does-art-things

The poster you stood in front of was in remarkable shape, with only hints of discoloration littering the page. The frame that held it had stood the test of time and came out victorious, with only a few scratches across the glass to show for it. A fond smile grew as you read the words emblazoned across it: The Man from Deadhorse.

A man was also pictured riding on the back of his trusted steed, pistol in hand, aiming it toward an unpictured outlaw. A man that you knew to be Cooper Howard, the actor who you’d grown quite fond of during your life in the vault. You’re sure you’ve watched his entire discography or at least all his films that your vault had, which was a significant amount.

So when said actor captured you after being exiled from your vault, albeit a little less human-looking, you couldn’t believe it. It took a second to clock it, but you managed to piece two and two together when you heard him talk and watched how he wielded his gun. Hell, he was still wearing the same clothes from the movie whose poster you stood in front of. It hadn’t been that difficult.

Of course, he had no idea you knew who he was. You didn’t utter a word, not from when he first captured you to when he begrudgingly let you tag alongside him or even when you’d formed a bond. Friends, maybe not, but you trusted each other, and that was enough.

You couldn’t help but admire the man on the poster, if just for a few more moments. Anyone could see that Cooper Howard was handsome, and his charisma added to that. As incredible of an actor as he was, you would admit that you didn’t watch his films just for his skills. He’d been your childhood crush, following you into your teenage years.

And maybe it was still around, lingering at the back of your mind. Perhaps that would explain the butterflies in your stomach whenever you looked at The Ghoul. Even though his face had completely changed, you still believed he was just as handsome as before becoming a ghoul. His charisma and wit had just become sharper, and even though he sneered more than smiled, you still recognized that grin from the movies.

You snuck a glance at your traveling partner, Cooper Howard, The Ghoul. He had yet to see the poster, or maybe he chose to ignore it. Either way, his back was to you, rifling through the desks of the building the two of you had entered. It was becoming evident now that this place was a movie theatre, someplace you thought, until now, they had entirely made up to mess with you in the vault. They knew your love of movies; why not tell you there was a place where you could see them on giant screens?

“You gonna stare at that fuckin’ poster all night, or are ya gonna help me?” So he had chosen to ignore it, then.

You refrained from sighing, not wanting to annoy the man. Instead, you got to work on the other side of the theatre, where a few doors stood. Glancing into the first room, you found it filled with garbage. Literal garbage. Bags were piled from floor to ceiling, and even after all the time that had passed, it still smelled. Holding back a gag, you shut the door as best you could. Gross.

The next door was a little more pleasant. It was a bathroom with three stalls lining the rightmost wall and a few sinks. A first aid kit had been bolted on the wall, and a slight, victorious noise left you when you found two stimpacks, a roll of bandages, and a small canister of water. You quickly deposited those into your bag before continuing to the stalls.

Two were empty, but the third had something in the toilet. When you peered in, you chuckled. A teddy bear sat on the edge, a newspaper in its hands, a pair of broken glasses on its face. No matter how vicious the surface world was, people still managed to find humor in the small things, and you cherished it.

The third and final room was locked, so taking out a bobby pin, you got to work unlocking it. It took you some time, as you weren’t nearly as quick as The Ghoul was, but eventually, the door swung open. Inside was what you presumed to be once an office, a desk with a terminal flush against the wall. A large safe was tucked into the corner, nearly hidden by bookshelves. Grinning at your new prize, you bent down in front of it, pulling the bobby pin and screwdriver back out.

If the door took some time, the safe took even longer. A small pile of broken bobby pins had started to grow at your feet, and your back was beginning to ache from bending over for so long. You could feel that you were close; you just needed to move it a little more to the right…

Snap!

“Motherfucker…” you grumbled under your breath, adding another pin to your collection. The idea of admitting defeat flashed through your mind, but you shook it away. You needed to prove this to yourself.

And to The Ghoul.

You heard the sound of footsteps drawing closer, stopping when they reached the room you were currently in. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was; you could hear his spurs. “The hell is takin’ you so long?” His gruff voice stopped you as you were about to insert another bobby pin.

“This fuckin’ safe,” you sighed, resuming your attempt at lockpicking. Your back was really hurting now, and so you got down onto your knees, which helped a little. The concrete floor was uncomfortable, but sitting offered some respite, and you bent forward, returning to work. You had expected The Ghoul to have already left, so you were startled when you felt him crouch beside you.

His gaze was locked onto the safe when you glanced at him, and he shifted almost nervously beside you. Weird. “Lemme do it.” His tone held no room for argument, yet you still shook your head at him.

“No, I’ve got this.”

“You’re gonna run outta fuckin’ bobby pins before ya open it,” he jabbed, nudging the pile with his foot. You didn’t bother to hide the glare you sent him.

“Then I’ll just take yours.” You were pleasantly surprised when you turned the lock and were met with resistance an inch before it had turned all the way. You were close.

“Oh, I’d like to see ya try, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I already have.” You had shifted the pin to the right and were met resistance way later, and a victorious smile grew on your face. “C’mom, baby, open up for me,” you whispered, voice dangerously low, and you missed the way the man beside you shifted even more.

He didn’t offer any more arguments, and you let out a small laugh when the safe door finally opened. You’d barely gotten a glimpse of the contents inside when you saw a gloved hand sneak inside. You smacked it away, glaring at him. “Open your own fuckin’ safe,” you chastized.

He matched your expression, human-looking eyes glaring daggers into you, but you didn’t let up. It was a quick standoff, but he eventually backed down, not before muttering something under his breath. You didn’t hear what he said, but you didn’t care.

Opening the door further allowed more light in, allowing you to see your prize. A stack of pre-war bills sat on the bottom, and you tucked them into your bag. There was a silver locket, which you also grabbed, knowing you could get some caps for it. A few unlabeled chem bottles were on the top shelf, all added to your bag.

But you were most excited about the revolver tucked behind all the chems. It was heavy, heavier than the pistol on your hip, and in surprisingly good condition. The barrel's metal was mostly unscratched and shiny in the dim light. The wood grip, a deep brown oak, was cool in your hand, and it contrasted beautifully with the steel of the rest of the gun.

You raised a brow when he held a hand out expectantly, moving the gun a bit closer to your chest. “Are you gonna give it back?”

He let out a deep exhale. “Yes,” he responded before making a ‘give me’ motion with his upturned hand.

After some hesitation, you set it in his palm, observing as he tested it in his hand. His expression was difficult to read as he evaluated it, his eyes carefully roaming the gun. You had to bite back a laugh when he raised the gun to the right of him; he looked like he did on the poster you just saw.

You must’ve done a worse job than you thought, holding back your laugh because he was fixing you with another glare. “Sorry,” you began between chuckles, “it’s just… you look like the guy on the poster.”

The Ghoul was good at hiding his emotions, and his face remained unreadable as he glared at you, but you swore you saw a bit of alarm behind the fire in his eyes. “Do I, now?” He asked, seemingly unbothered.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you teased, an idea forming that made you grin. “I’d take it as a compliment, being compared to as handsome a man as Cooper Howard.”

The heat in his stare dimmed, replaced with a hint of surprise. He blinked at you for a moment, unsure what to make of your words. You continued. “What, you thought I watched his movies just for his acting skills?” You were careful not to use the word you, not wanting to let him in on the secret.

When he continued to just watch you, at a loss for words, you finally stood, your back crying out in relief. You stuck out a hand, gesturing to the gun in his hand, and he slowly gave it back to you. “Thank you,” you smiled sweetly at him, your confidence growing at how you managed to stun the man. “I’ll meet you out there. Help yourself to whatever is left in here.” With that, you tuned and left, your sweet smile turning to one of victory.

Unbeknownst to you, the man you’d left in the room had a slight smile on his face before quickly coming to his senses. A groan left him, and he ran a gloved hand over his face as if he could wipe away the heat he felt in his cheeks.

If he could blush, he was sure he would be bright red right now.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

“Why the hell were ya kicked outta your vault, anyway?”

Well, that certainly wasn’t the question you expected to hear today. You glanced behind you at The Ghoul, continuing down the long-since abandoned street the two of you were on. Even though it had been a few months, it still hurt, the wound never fully closing. “Why’d you ask?” You responded after some hesitation.

“Do I gotta have a reason?” He shot back, and you sighed.

“I suppose not,” you agreed before taking a few moments to formulate your answer. “They thought I was a threat to their way of life. I was too inquisitive for my own good, didn’t work well with authority, and constantly challenged said authority.”

“You? Disagreeable? Never.”

“Well, fuck you too,” you huffed, turning away from him. Here you were, telling him about possibly the worst thing that happened in your life, and he was insulting you. Asshole. For a moment, you thought he was being genuinely friendly, wanting to learn about you. You were bitterly disappointed to find the opposite.

A tense silence hung in the air as you continued to walk, not bothering to glance at him. He didn’t deserve your attention right now. Your somewhat positive mood was now ruined, both from having to bring up your past and because of him.

“They really kicked ya out for that?” He finally spoke. It wasn’t an apology, but you could tell it was an attempt at relieving the dispute.

“I think they were afraid I would change everything, and you know there’s nothing vault dwellers hate more than change. Even if change would improve their lives, they’d rather stay with what they know, not wanting to risk losing comfort and familiarity. They just couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that change is a good thing. I don’t think they ever will.” The words had just tumbled from your mouth, anger making you ramble freely. When you finished, you finally glanced behind you, cringing at yourself.

To your surprise and relief, you didn’t find a look of judgment on his face. Instead, he seemed almost pensive, not expecting to hear you voice your opinions like that.

“Do ya miss it?”

“Fuck no. Even with all its dangers and obstacles, life up here is infinitely better than any life I could’ve had in a vault. At least up here, my life is mine. I make my own choices, for better or for worse. I exist for myself, not to fulfill some corporation’s quota or for some experiment. I am myself.” You let out a sigh. “There is one thing I do miss, though.”

He didn’t respond but nodded, gesturing for you to continue. “I miss the movie room,” you chuckled, almost bittersweet. “It’s silly, I know. But I miss lounging on one of the couches and getting lost in the story.”

“Did ya have a favorite?” He asked, and you swore he was reminiscing a bit as well.

“Oh, plenty. The Wizard of Oz, The Man from Calabasas, and The Silence of the Lambs, to name a few.”

“The Man from Calabasas?”

“Have you seen it?” You knew damn well that he had done more than seen the movie. He had been the lead star of it.

“Somethin’ like that,” The Ghoul muttered in response. “You weren’t kiddin’, were you?”

“About liking Cooper Howard’s movies? No, I certainly was not. Hell, I’d go as far as to say he’s my favorite actor.”

Like always, his expression towards your response was unreadable. “Would ya, now?”

“Uh-huh. I had a crush on him growing up. Maybe I still do,” you laughed lightly, shrugging your shoulders. He faltered a bit, his eyes widening a fraction, and you had to return to facing forward, unable to hide the smirk on your face any longer. It was so fun to tease him. Every time you’d seen a poster with him on it for the past weeks, you were sure to point it out, always commenting on him.

“He’s much older than ya, sweetheart,” he finally responded after some time.

“It wasn’t like I was dating the man,” you laughed. “Not that it would’ve deterred me, though. I always liked them older.”

The man behind you cleared his throat, and when you turned, you saw his eyes locked onto you, his jaw clenched, and a quickly growing fire in his eyes. Oh, this was so much fun. “You got something against that? Not that I’d change my mind based on your opinion.”

“Not a problem at all.” His words were clipped, strained. You halted in your tracks, holstering your gun, the revolver you’d just found a week ago. He cocked his head, watching you closely, stopping a good few feet behind you. His shoulders tensed when you approached him, his jaw never unclenching.

“Everything alright?” You asked, innocence dripping from your words. “You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine,” he bit out. Giving him enough time to stop you as he spoke, you raised your hands to his coat, fixing the crooked lapels. Once they were straight, you ran your hands down them, resting them on his chest. You couldn’t feel it through all of this fabric, and it was quiet enough that you couldn’t hear it, but a small groan rumbled his chest.

“If you say so,” you teased, running your hands up one last time before letting him go. You took a few steps back, glancing around at the dilapidated scenery. “We should probably find shelter soon. Only an hour of sunlight left.”

“I… sure.” You’d never heard him sound so uncertain, completely taken aback by what you had done. A part of you worried that you had taken it a step too far, but you knew the man. He would not have let you touch him if he didn’t want it. As you turned back forward, you failed to see how his eyes trailed down your body hungrily, gloved hands lingering where yours had just been.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Even though the bed was the comfiest thing you’d laid in in months, sleep would not come. No matter how much you tossed, turned, and readjusted, you just could not sleep. It wasn’t like your mind was preoccupied by anything.

Well, that wasn’t true. You’d found your mind wandering to your traveling companion more and more these past weeks since you’d stopped and fixed his jacket right in the middle of the street. You thought he had been more affected than you, but ever since then, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he felt under your hands and what he’d feel like elsewhere.

With a huff and warm cheeks, you sat up, giving up on falling asleep. Slipping on your shoes, you kept your steps light as you crossed the room and made a pointed effort not to glance at the sleeping silhouette of The Ghoul. Grabbing your gun, you stepped outside, the cool night air doing wonders for your flushed skin.

You sat on the edge of the barely standing porch of the house you were sleeping in. You balanced your gun in your lap, and from the pockets of your jeans, you pulled out a beat-up pack of cigarettes and a barely functioning lighter. It took a few moments for the flame to catch, the clicking noise filling the silent night, but you eventually had a lit cigarette between your lips, the smoke swirling comfortingly around your body.

You felt the wood creak before you heard it, and you whirred around, gun pointing at the new figure behind you. The figure let out a familiar chuckle, and you sighed in relief, putting the gun back down. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” you muttered as you turned back.

The Ghoul sat beside you with a sigh, arms extended behind him. “You’re gonna attract unwanted attention with that,” he muttered, ignoring your previous statement.

“Like you?”

He laughed. “You’d be lucky if the worst you got was me.”

“I suppose,” you conceded. “But your company isn’t exactly… unwelcome.”

He merely hummed in response, and you offered him the cigarette. He eyed it briefly, eyes flicking from it to your face, but he eventually grabbed it. Skin grazed yours, and it almost startled you when you realized he wasn’t wearing gloves, and it felt scandalous to see him without them. Still, you kept your composure, observing him silently as he took a drag.

“Can’t sleep?” You heard him ask after some time, and you shook your head. “Me neither.”

“Sorry if my tossing and turning kept you up.”

“Ain’t your fault,” he sighed, passing the cigarette back to you. “Is… are ya alright?”

He’s been surprising you with the questions lately, and you couldn’t help the slight disbelief on your face, nearly choking on the smoke. “Just a lot on my mind” is what you finally went with. It was not entirely a lie, but it withheld specific details.

He thankfully seemed to clock that you didn’t quite want to talk about it, so he left you in silence, taking the cigarette you passed to him. You both whipped your heads to the left when you heard the sound of something groaning, followed by a few more groans from other entities. Whether it was human or not, you couldn’t tell. He quickly smashed the cigarette under his boot, standing up slowly, hand inching towards his gun.

His other hand extended towards you, and you didn’t give yourself time to second-guess before you interlocked your finger with his, letting him pull you up. You had barely gotten to your feet when he was dragging you inside, nearly making you stumble over the planks of wood sticking up.

Still, both of you managed to get inside quickly, the door being kicked soon shut by him, and you locked it. Peering out the blinds, you saw a horde of ferals shuffle their way down the street, some gathering where you were just sitting. You and The Ghoul probably could’ve bested the group, but you never knew. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that said companion wasn’t looking outside like you were but instead trained on you.

When the horde continued further down the street, you let out a breath before switching your attention to the man. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes scanned over your face, something unreadable in them. You gasped lightly when you felt him squeeze your hand, your fingers interlocked with his. So that’s what was making him act so weird.

A small smile graced your face as you looked down at your intertwined hands, neither of you making any move to pull apart yet. His hands were rougher than you were expecting, and even though you could feel the grooves of his marred skin, his fingertips were incredibly calloused as they rubbed into your skin. It was the most lovely thing you’d ever felt.

You’d never seen him regard something so gently when you looked back up at him. It was like you were catching a glimpse of the man he once was before the war. For a moment, you caught a glimpse of the actor, yet this was no scene from a movie. This moment was real, two lost souls finding some semblance of comfort with each other.

But just as soon as the gentle moment had started, it came to a screeching halt, and The Ghoul took a step back, pulling his hand from yours. You tried not to let it sting, but you couldn’t help the slight hurt in your heart as he backed away. “Good night,” he muttered out, his voice cold.

You simply nodded in response, not trusting your voice, and you heard the receding footsteps of The Ghoul as he marched back towards where he was sleeping. You stayed locked by the door for a good moment, unable to move, and embarrassment and sadness locked you there.

You don’t even remember walking back to your bed. All you remember is that you were suddenly looking up at the ceiling, sleep even further than it was before. You swore you could still feel his hand in yours, the heat from his skin, the texture of his skin beneath your fingers. Sighing, you rolled over on your side, back turned away from where The Ghoul was sleeping.

Sleep didn’t come to you that night, and when you finally got up hours later and saw the way The Ghoul sat hunched over the table, you knew he didn’t sleep either.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It had been days since that night, and things had been incredibly tense between the two of you since. Hours of travel, once filled with light conversation, were now done in silence. Soft glances were now guarded, lingering touches nonexistent. It was distracting, constantly on your mind, overanalyzing everything you’d done or said to him.

Maybe that distraction was the reason you now sat bleeding out, half lying against an old car, your fingers clutching your stomach uselessly. Blood poured out between your fingers, every breath feeling like you were being stabbed all over again by that Raider. It had been a poorly hidden ambush, yet they still managed to catch you off-guard, your thoughts elsewhere.

It had been fine until you’d gotten cut off from your companion and forced into a small alleyway. You’d managed to take down most of your attackers, but one had gotten lucky with a stab to the stomach. They currently lay dead on the floor as well, shot by your gun, but that had been after they got you.

The sounds of gunfire had ceased about thirty seconds ago, making your ears ring. Or maybe it was the blood loss. You couldn’t tell.

You heard the sound of loud footfalls, and you reached for your gun with a crimson-covered hand, which made it difficult to grasp the weapon. Your arm shook like crazy as you raised your gun, training it on the entrance of the alleyway, waiting as silently as you could. Small gasps of pain kept pouring from your lips, and you blinked back tears.

Relief flooded you when you heard your name being called by The Ghoul, his gruff voice never sounding so lovely. You managed to croak out a response, your arm falling to your lap, unable to hold it up any longer. He called out your name again, even closer this time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, your energy quickly leaving.

When you saw that familiar silhouette at the entrance, you couldn’t help the small smile on your face despite your incredible pain. He was by your side in a second, or maybe you blacked out for a bit. Everything was so blurry now. You cried out in pain when you felt him press down on your stomach, and you tried to squirm away, but he was much stronger than you.

You sagged against the car, unable to fight him any longer. Your eyes felt heavy, but you tried your hardest to keep them open, especially when The Ghoul practically shook you awake. “You better keep those fuckin’ eyes open,” he snapped, and if you were more conscious, you would’ve been able to detect the panic in his voice.

“Are you threatening me?” You wheezed out.

“If that’s what it takes to keep ya awake, then yes.” You felt cold air hit your stomach as he lifted your shirt, examining the wound. You didn’t look at his expression, not wanting to know how bad it was.

“At least take me out to dinner,” you chuckled before a cough rattled your body. Something warm and sticky fell from your lips, making The Ghoul curse, who hurriedly looked for something in his bag. A small first aid kit clattered to the ground, and you cringed when you saw him pull out a needle and thread.

“After this, I’ll take ya out to as many dinners as ya like,” The Ghoul murmured, and because of how hazy your vision was, you missed how his hands shook as he threaded the needle.

“Is that a promise?” It was starting to get hard to get the words out now, as they were beginning to slur.

“You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep, sweetheart.”

“I love it when you call me sweetheart,” you admitted, unable to stop yourself. Your smile turned into a wince when you felt the needle pierce your skin. He muttered an apology, but you just shook your head and leaned forward slightly as he worked quickly to sew your wound close. It was just close enough that you could see him clearly, and you unabashedly let your eyes roam his face.

Blood loss was kicking in now, and the world was spinning. You tried hard to keep your eyes open but found them fluttering close even more frequently, your head drooping to the car. He shook you gently whenever he felt you do it, promising that he was almost done. “We gotta get this close before I can give ya a stimpack.”

“You’re pretty,” you whispered before almost immediately breaking into laughter.

“And you’ve lost a lot of blood,” The Ghoul shook his head, working diligently.

“I mean it,” you practically pouted. “You’re so pretty.”

“I’m sure I’m quite the fuckin’ catch.”

“You’ve always been a catch,” you teased, and you tried to bring up one of your hands to caress his face, but it fell limply to your lap.

For the first time, his eyes shot up to yours, confusion on his face. But they quickly returned to his work, shaking his head again. “Whatdya mean by that, sweetheart?” He asked, trying to keep you talking. Or maybe he was genuinely curious.

“The entire time I’ve known you, I’ve thought you were beautiful,” the tiniest bit of tension left The Ghoul, “but even before then, I’ve always thought you were the most handsome man I’d ever seen-”

“You don’t mean-”

“Guess that’s why I’ve still got a crush on you,” you sighed, continuing despite his objections. But you didn’t get to see his reaction, the weight on your lids growing unbearable, and you let them fall close, unconsciousness finally claiming you. Your name being said like a plea was the last thing you remembered.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You weren’t sure how long you were out for. All you know is that the room you woke up in was unfamiliar, and everything in your body hurt. Wincing, you tried to sit up, only to collapse in pain, your stomach in agony. A shadow fell across your face, and through tears, you managed to see the familiar face of The Ghoul above you.

He looked as terrible as you felt, the deep sockets of his eyes somehow even more pronounced. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days, the whites of his eyes bloodshot. His clothes were more rumpled, and he had discarded his hat somewhere in the room. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would’ve asked him why he looked like, well, shit.

His lips moved, but you couldn’t hear the words, your ears ringing too loudly. You fought back when you felt a needle enter your skin, but you relaxed when the pain began to dim like a bright light covered with a blanket; the pain was still there but not nearly as noticeable.

After a few more seconds, your ears finally stopped ringing, the man's gruff voice replacing it. “Just some painkillers,” he explained.

You tried to thank him, but your voice was too dry, and you broke into a coughing fit. With a lot of help from him, you could sit up enough to drink, greedily gulping down the canteen of water that he presented you. Despite your objections, he pulled it away from you when he deemed you had enough.

You were starting to feel more alert now, and your vision was not as fuzzy as it was moments ago. The Ghoul sat in the chair you just noticed beside your bed, a soft sigh leaving him. The room was still unfamiliar, and you realized he had probably just dragged your unconscious body into the closest possible building.

Glancing at him, you watched as he leaned back into his chair, his eyes never leaving your face. His expression was, as always, unreadable, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d done something wrong. Well, something besides getting stabbed. “How long have I been out for?”

“Almost three days.”

“Thank you.”

“For?”

You gestured to your body. “For saving me.”

In response, he made a vague noise, his arms crossing over his chest. His stare became scrutinizing, and you felt like he was picking you apart. You could feel your heartbeat accelerate, your nerves becoming terrible, yet you forced yourself to hold his gaze.

After what felt like hours of tense silence, he finally spoke. “Whatdya remember?”

“Well, not much, to be honest. I remember getting injured, and then you helped me, and then I passed out.”

“D’ya remember anythin’ you said?”

You furrowed your brows. “No? Did… did I say something bad?” When he didn’t respond, you grew even more worried. “Look, if I said something to offend you-”

“How long have ya known?”

You blinked. “What?”

“How long have ya known who I am?” His voice was surprisingly steady, not leaning towards any particular emotion.

Internally, you were kicking yourself. Of course, you just had to let your secret slip while you were bleeding out. You figured it useless to attempt lying, so you just sighed deeply. “I’ve known since the moment we met,” you confessed.

“So this entire time-”

“Yes.”

The chair creaked, and you jumped when you felt his elbows lean on the edge of your bed. “And ya didn’t fuckin’ think that was important to tell me?”

You leaned as far away from him as you physically could. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed at that, a bitter sound. You felt his fingers creep toward your hand beneath the covers, noticeably bare of gloves. Something dark crossed his features when he made contact, his fingers running along your hand tortuously slowly. You whispered out his name as a question, confused but not against this conversation's direction. “You know my real name, sweetheart. Might as well use it.”

Your throat suddenly became dry, but you didn’t dare reach for the canteen perched in his lap. “Cooper,” a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, “I thought you’d be… angrier.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ pissed.” You saw his eyes flash momentarily, making you want to shrink into a ball and hide. You’d never been on the receiving end of his anger, and you hated it. Or at least that's what you told yourself. “But there’s far more important things on my mind right now.”

“Like what?”

“Like keepin’ ya alive, for example.” His teasing tone turned somber. “You almost bled out.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. You hadn’t realized how severe the wound you’d gotten was. Tentatively, you lowered the sheet that was around your body, then raised the still bloody shirt that now had a hole in the front. “My poor shirt…”

He scoffed. “Ya got stabbed in the gut, and you’re worried ‘bout your shirt?”

“Do you know how hard it is to find intact clothing up here?” You shook your head before examining the stitched-up gash on your stomach. Well, the once stitched-up gash. Thanks to the magic of stimpacks, he had been able to take out your sutures, leaving behind a barely healed scar across your stomach. You supposed it was a miracle, too, that it hadn’t caused severe damage to any of your intestines. “Thanks, doc.” You tried to jest.

He laughed, but it sounded forced even to you. His gaze locked on where he rubbed your hand, looking like he wanted to say something. “Was… was there anything else?” You asked carefully.

He exhaled sharply, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t respond. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

An exasperated chuckle left him. “Everythin’. Every comment, every tease, every single fuckin’ thing you did that’s kept me awake for nights on end. Did you mean it?” To any other person, the way he re-asked the question would’ve sounded angry, pissed off. But you knew better. There was almost a sense of desperation in his words, his gaze boring into you as he waited for a response.

“I am many things,” you began slowly. “A liar is not one of them. I meant it, every single thing.”

He paused. “Were your words only meant for the man I was?”

“Can they not be for the man you are as well?”

Your words seemed to catch him off-guard. “I guess they can,” he sighed, tilting his head down to break eye contact. Without thinking, you freed your hand from the blanket and his touch, and you gently tugged his chin until he was looking at you again. You were both equally surprised by the action, but you didn’t let yourself back down now. Not when you were so close to what you wanted.

You gave him a moment to pull away from your touch if he was so pleased, and when he didn't, a gentle smile grew on your lips as you adjusted your hand so that you now held the side of his face. It was a stretch to do so, but seeing how he practically melted into your touch was worth it. You wondered how long it had been since someone had held him like this.

“I rather like the man you are,” you admitted softly, your thumb running over his scarred cheek. “The man who put up with my constant teasing. The man who’s become the person I trust the most in this fucked up world. The man who just saved my life.” You sat up slowly, much to the complaint of your stomach and The Ghoul, but you ignored both.

With one arm holding you up, you tugged him forward until he was half on the bed, one leg between your own, the other still firm on the floor. His hands braced on either side of you, face inches from yours as he leaned above you. He was close enough that you could feel his chest rise and fall, now slightly quicker than before.

Human eyes flicked down to your lips, an unspoken question to which you already knew the answer. Instead of speaking, you let your actions do the talking, closing the distance until your lips brushed over his. But you didn’t let them connect. You wanted him to do it, to show you that this was what he wanted.

You heard your name said softly, a mix between a plea and a warning. It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“Cooper,” you sighed in response, and that seemed to do the trick. He finally closed the space between you two, lips surprisingly gentle against yours as he kissed you. It was everything you wanted, and you sighed happily, fingers trailing patterns across his skin.

After a few moments, he pulled away, much to your audible displeasure, and chuckled. “I’m still fuckin’ angry at ya, sweetheart.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” you laughed lightly, “but be mad at me later.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I want you to kiss me again.”

“So fuckin’ needy,” he teased, a slight grin on his lips, but he brought himself back down to your lips. “I like it.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips crashing against yours with noticeably less gentleness. You didn’t resist as the force of it pushed you back gently onto the bed, and your hand fell from his face to the front of his jacket, grabbing a fistful of the material. His lips were almost feverish against yours, a barely contained desperation in the act, and you felt fingers brush against your cheek. They were just as rough as you remembered.

The bed shifted as he finally put his entire body on it, one knee between your legs, the other resting by your hip. One hand still worked to keep himself from resting his whole body weight on you, the other tracing patterns into your skin, just like you had done to him. If he had any reservations left, they no longer existed. The only things on his mind were the way you felt beneath him and the way your lips felt against his.

You gasped when you felt him move down your jaw, down to your neck, kissing and sucking the delicate skin there. No longer able to hold his jacket comfortably, you switched to holding the back of his head, nails scratching lightly against the skin. He practically shuddered, his arm buckling slightly, some of his body weight falling onto your lower body.

A groan of pain tore through you when you felt him press against your stomach. It was almost funny how he seemed to jump off of you, hooded eyes immediately becoming alert. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m sorry-”

“Get back down here,” you practically growled, reaching up for his shirt again. He stopped you, redirecting your hand to the bed, securing it with a firm hand when you tried to break free.

“You’re injured,” he countered, stopping your continued attempts to break free with a look.

“And?”

“And we just got ya stable. I’d be even more fuckin’ pissed if three days of work was all for nothin’.”

“We’ll just be careful, then,” you protested, desire making you irrational. You’d just gotten a taste, but you needed more of him. Hesitancy flashed across his features, making you nervous. “Unless you don’t want to…”

“Oh, I fuckin’ do,” he chuckled. “But I ain’t doin’ anythin’ to ya until you’re healed.”

“Anything? Not even a kiss?”

He sighed, shaking his head, but his face had a fond expression. “You’re difficult, ya know that?”

“I’ve been told,” you laughed. “So is that a ‘no’, then?”

You had to stop yourself from laughing when he kissed you. When he pulled away, he rested his head against yours. “There. Satisfied?”

Far from it. “For now,” you sighed, lying comfortably on the bed. Now that you didn’t have anything exciting in your near future, exhaustion slowly began to creep back in, making you yawn. He chuckled, moving to get up, but you halted him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Lay with me? Please?”

You could tell that he was ready to argue against it, but he relented. With a smile, you were able to roll over to one of the sides of the bed with limited amounts of pain, giving him enough room to squeeze in behind you. Immediately, you felt one of his arms tuck beneath the pillow, the other resting on your hip, being careful to avoid your injury.

With his front pressed against your back, you let your eyes fall close, much less violently than previously. Your breathing eventually evened out, and you let your body fully relax against him. He must’ve thought you were asleep because you felt him brush away any hair that covered your face, and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was observing you.

You manage to be still when his lips grazed the shell of your ear, a featherlight kiss, and his following words were just as light. “I’m glad you’re alright, sweetheart.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

You’d accidentally stumbled upon it, traveling a little too far off the beaten path, but you were so glad you did. In front of you were scattered pools of water, about six total, ranging from five to twenty feet across. Steam billowed off the top of the pools, the water bubbling by some unseen force, disturbing the clear water's surface. Set into rust-red stone, you couldn’t tell how deep the pools were, but you were eager to find out.

Stepping toward the edge of one of the larger pools, the rational part of your brain finally kicked in, and you took out your Geiger counter. You expected to hear the annoying ticking noise that accompanied said pools of water but were surprised when it remained silent.

After checking it a few more times to be sure, you sat back on your heels, debating. It was then you finally heard the footfalls of your companions, huffing in annoyance because you ran off on him. “The hell ya doin’?” He asked, wary of how close you sat next to the water.

“There’s no radiation!” You called back, glancing behind at him. “At least not enough to be a problem!”

The Ghoul crouched beside you, glancing from you to the pools of water. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Look!” You returned the counter to the water’s surface and received the same results.

He hummed curiously. “This must’ve formed after the bombs.”

“What is it?”

“They’re hot springs,” he responded like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Stick your hand in it.”

Cautiously, you let your fingers dip beneath the water's surface and were startled to find it quite warm. A small laugh left you as you pulled your fingers out, wiping your hands on your pants. “Are they safe?”

“Well, sayin’ as there isn’t any radiation, and no creature can live in waters like this, I’d say so.” He had just gotten the words out before you stood again, toeing off your ragged shoes and socks. “The hell you doin’?” He asked again, bewildered by your actions.

Your bag hit the rocks with a thud right next to your shoes. “I’m getting in,” you stated, leaving no room for argument. “I’m filthy, sweaty, gross, and I desperately need a bath. You see any other options around?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Turn around if you don’t wanna see me get undressed.” Your gunbelt and armor were next to join the ground, close enough to the edge that you could grab it if you’d like.

“And if I wanna see?” he asked when your hands reached the hem of your shirt, still partially stained from the event the week before, a hastily sewed-on patch on the front.

You finally glanced down at him, and he watched you with rapt attention. “Well,” you laughed lightly, “then enjoy the show.” Your shirt was off in one movement, joining the pile on the ground. You didn’t bother to look at the new scar on your stomach, which had become significantly less painful over the past week.

You knew you were toying with something dangerous, a line the two of you had been dancing on over the past week. Things hadn’t gone beyond kissing and lingering touches, and you were ready for more. You wanted more, and if the way he seemed to restrain himself each time he kissed you, you knew he felt the same.

Your jeans were next, leaving you in only your undergarments. He was utterly transfixed, excitement visible on his face as you reached for the clasp of your bra. It had been weird; over the past week, you felt like he was becoming better at not hiding his expressions. Or you were getting better at reading him.

You playfully threw the garment at him when it slid off your shoulders, obstructing his view momentarily. During that, you let your underwear slide down your legs, and you kicked it off your ankles, letting it join the pile. For a moment, you let his eyes hungrily roam your body before submerging yourself beneath the water’s surface. It was just deep enough that you could stand, and your head and shoulders were free, letting you breathe freely.

The sound you made when the hot water met your skin was unintentionally filthy, a mix between a moan and a curse. “Fuck, that feels good,” you laughed airily. The water was nearly unbearably hot, but you quickly grew acclimated.

Leaning back, you let your head submerge beneath the water, wetting your hair. At this angle, you could see him still, stunned, and still crouched by the water. Grinning, you adjusted back upright before reaching him, resting your arms on the rock face, and you rested your chin on them, looking up at him. “Are you getting in as well?”

That question broke him out of the semi-trance he was in, and he shook his head, much to your displeasure. “Someone’s gotta keep watch,” he grumbled.

“You’re no fun.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded. “C’mon, just for a little bit.”

“Sweetheart, you and I both know that if I get in there, it won’t be for ‘a little bit’.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He shook his head again but removed his gloves, making your grin wider. Backing away from the edge, you watched his hat come off next, then his gunbelt and coat. When he reached the buttons of his shirt, he paused, glancing into your eager eyes. “Turn around,” he requested, and you responded with a confused glance. “Do ya want me in there or not?”

You were still confused, but not wanting to push his comfort, you complied, distracting yourself from the scenery around you. It was hard to hear over the rolling water, but you listened to the sound of clothing hitting the rocks, making your breath hitch in excitement. Anticipation made your skin crawl, although not unpleasantly, and you waited for the sound of water splashing as he joined you.

But after a moment passed and you were met with just the continued sound of bubbles, you shifted nervously yet didn’t dare look back. Time seemed to crawl on agonizingly slow, your breaths turning shallow. You nearly screamed when you felt an arm wrap around your midsection, still mindful of the injury, but relaxed almost immediately when the familiar timbre of his voice hit your ears. “Not even a peek, I’m impressed.”

“Is it truly that shocking that I can follow directions?” You scoffed, letting him ease you against his now bare chest. The contact was blissful, and you sighed out in content. “Can I turn around now?”

He made a noise of consideration before resting his head on your shoulder. When he spoke next, it was almost straight into your ear. “In a moment. Lemme hold ya for a bit longer.”

When he received no objections from you, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. His other arm joined with the other, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but you managed to reach around to hold the back of his head gently. You could feel him smile lightly when your nails scratched lightly.

“So, how’d you figure it out?”

It took a few moments of wracking your brain until you finally realized what he was talking about. “We’re having this conversation now?”

“Don’t see any better time. Besides, ya can’t run away from the questions now.” It was true; over the past week, you’d found an excuse not to answer his questions, finding something else to do as an excuse. Now it looked like he had you right where he wanted.

Groaning, you hung your head, much to the amusement of him. “It was your voice, mainly,” you admitted. “When I first heard it, I thought I was just reaching. Then, it just clicked after watching the way you wield your gun, the way you carry yourself, everything. You even look a bit the same,” you chuckled.

“And you thought the best thing to do next was to fuckin’ tease me?”

“You have to admit, it was kinda funny.”

You felt his shoulders shake, a light chuckle leaving him. “I ain’t admitting to nothin’, sweetheart.”

“Are you still upset about it?”

“Not for the reason you’re thinkin’.”

That piqued your curiosity. “Oh?”

“I wished ya told me sooner because I wouldn’t have had to wait this long to do this.” His arms tightened the tiniest amount around you. “D’you know how hard it's been these past weeks, months, haivn’ to bite my tongue every time you make one those comments, those touches.”

“Months?”

“That’s how long it’s been since we met, right?”

Shocked laughter left you, and you tried to turn in his arms. You could only get halfway around before his grip stopped you, but you had turned enough so that you could look at him. You weren’t expecting him to look so confident about his response; the muscles of his brow raised like he was daring you to say something. “You’ve wanted me for-”

“Since the moment ya stumbled into me that night.”

“You tried to kill me.”

He shrugged. “Still knew that I wanted ya.”

“How… romantic,” you scoffed.

“And they say romance is dead.”

“You did promise to take me out to dinner.”

“Out of everythin’ from that conversation, that’s the fuckin’ thing you remember?” You felt his arm go lax for a second, but that was all you needed. Turning, you finally were facing him, your chest pressed into him, making him groan appreciatively. Your arms wrapped around his neck in an embrace, and you felt his hands begin to trail up your back. One settled on your ribs, the other continued up to the base of your neck, brushing your hairline.

Any words you were about to say fell short when you felt him scratch lightly, a choked noise leaving you at the action, your body shivering. Your mind went blank, and he just chuckled knowingly. His fingers ran up even more, your body reacting similarly, and you both knew the conversation was over for now.

You gasped when you felt him grab a fist of your hair and pull back; it was not rough enough to be incredibly painful, but it still stung a bit. But it wasn’t like you could feel the pain anyway, your desire being far more powerful. He leaned down into your space, face hovering above yours as he tilted yours back. “What, cat got your tongue?” He teased you for your sudden silence, which was uncharacteristic.

“Fuck you,” you managed to whisper, making him laugh.

“We’ll get there, sweetheart.”

His lips were on yours before you could respond, your senses now overwhelmed with him. His other hand wasn’t shy, grabbing and kneading at every piece of skin it could find, making you groan against his mouth.

You laughed when you began to feel him back up to the edge of the pool, barely able to keep up with his eager movements. But you were confused when you felt his hands grip your waist and lift you so that you were now sitting on the rock edge. It was a warm day, but even the warm air wasn’t enough to stop you from shivering from the temperature difference. “I thought we were supposed to be getting clean,” you tried to protest.

It didn’t even cross your mind that your entire body was exposed to him now, and if you did remember, you doubted you’d even care. Not with how his eyes roamed your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart so he could stand between them. He stood level with the base of your throat, wasting no time before he lavished it with kisses and bites.

“We can do it after,” he murmured against your skin. “I need to fuckin’ taste ya, Now.”

Involuntarily, your legs tightened around his body at his words, laughing lightly in shock. You don’t think you’d ever had a partner so eager to go down on you. “Cooper-”

“I fuckin’ love hearin’ you say my name. I bet ya sound even better screamin’ it.” His lips had moved down to your breasts, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

You tried not to think too much about the implications of his words. And you tried even harder not to let your body react any further, not wanting to fan the flame of his ego anymore. But you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t enjoying his cockiness. “Is that a promise?” You echoed the question from the previous week.

You felt him smirk. “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” A soft nip made you jump slightly, and he soothed over the hurt with his tongue. “Lie back, sweetheart.”

Excitement and arousal buzzed in your veins, and you required no further encouragement before you were resting back on your elbows, unable to feel the stone beneath you. He pulled away when you leaned back, something almost like pride in his eyes at how easily you complied.

He adjusted your legs so that they now rested on his shoulders, the heels of your feet resting on his back. It gave him perfect access to your center, and between your thighs, you saw how his eyes turned impossibly dark. They flicked to you one last time, looking for any hesitation, before leaning forward until you felt his breath caress the sensitive area.

But he didn’t make contact where you wanted. Instead, you felt his lips ghost the insides of your thighs, teasing you. Groaning, you tried to close the distance with a roll of your hips, but he shut that down quickly. His hands no longer held your thighs open. Instead, they were splayed across your hips, keeping you pinned down to the rocks as he continued his light touches.

You’d forgotten how strong he was, and you found yourself unable to move your hips any longer, rendered completely still by him. You didn’t have to see him to know he was loving tormenting you, inching closer and closer to where he knew you desperately wanted him. “I thought you said you needed to taste me,” you reminded him, and repeating his filthy words made you warm.

“I know what I said,” he breathed. “Consider this payback for the weeks of fuckin’ torture you’ve put me through.” A frustrated noise left you, and you tried to move away, but to no avail. Teeth dragged against your skin, up towards your center, halting right before reaching it. “You don’t get to run off on me now, sweetheart. You’re gonna take what I give ya.”

“Cooper, please.”

“As amazin’ as you sound beggin’, you ain’t gettin’ what you want that easy.” One of the hands holding you down moved up, calloused fingers grasping at your breast, making you whine. If you thought that because he let up one of his hands, you’d be able to move your hips freely, you thought wrong. All you could do was lay there and comply, much to his evident enjoyment.

You’re not sure how long you sat there, time crawling on tortuously slow, as he continued to tease and rile you up. Occasionally, you felt his lips ghost over where you wanted him, and you’d think he was finally having mercy on you. But when he passed over, too light to provide any relief, you knew he was just working you up more. No matter how much you pleaded or begged, he didn’t relent, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

But he was only human, and he, too, had a limit to his patience. It broke when the hand groping your breasts snuck between your legs, fingers spreading you open. His breath hitched when he saw the evidence of your arousal. He sighed, an air of finality in the sound.

“Oh, fuck this,” you heard him growl before his mouth was finally on you. Startled but oh so relieved, a jumble of words left your mouth, a mix of his name and curses. His tongue swept through you desperately, face burrowed deep between your thighs, a groan tearing from his lips as he finally tasted you.

He was incessant, addicted now that he’d gotten a taste. Your thighs tightened around his head as he ate you out, but he didn’t seem to mind. It almost seemed to urge him on, knowing he was making you feel that good. He still had a hand holding you down, the one between your legs teasing at your entrance, making your eyes flutter close.

When his tongue began to focus on your clit, you could barely keep yourself propped up any longer, and your arms started to shake. Desperate for something to hold on to, you grasped at the hand on your waist. He adjusted so that his forearm now pinned you, leaving his hand free for you to grab, which you did eagerly. It would’ve been funny how the two actions juxtaposed each other if he wasn’t making you see stars.

His name was being said like a mantra, turning more and more breathy as pleasure began to build. It turned louder when you felt one of his fingers ease into you, and you could feel the various groves of his skin, all adding to the stimulation you felt. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, his mouth continuing to toy with your clit. Peeling your eyes open, you dared to glance down at him, gasping lightly when you found him looking at you.

He looked so eager, so hungry, his pupils blown out with lust as he watched you slowly begin to fall apart. You were caught in a trance, unable to look away from him anymore. Not that you’d want to look away from such a glorious sight.

Keeping your gazes locked when you felt a second finger join became a challenge. The tension that he had so beautifully wound up inside you was on the verge of snapping, your breathing growing faster as you neared your release. You didn’t have to say anything to him; it seemed like he knew your body as well as you did. As he moved his fingers, you felt him crook his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, making you cry out.

Your thighs around his head begin to shake, your heels digging into his back almost painfully. You were so close, your grip turning vice-like on his hand. It was when you felt his lips latch onto your clit and suck when you finally fell apart. You had no idea how loudly you cried out his name, the sound of your ears ringing blocking out any other noise. White-hot pleasure washed over your body, your one arm finally going boneless beneath you, your back hitting the rock.

It took a few moments of deep breaths to get your heart under control, the ringing in your ears becoming background noise. You didn’t have the energy to prop yourself up yet, so you just strained your neck until you could look at him. He was still between your thighs, fingers having been withdrawn, but he continued to lap at your release. You could feel the smirk on his face when you made eye contact.

Overstimulation quickly made itself known, and with a groan, you finally sat yourself up. Easing your legs off of him, he still didn’t let up, and so with a half-hearted shove, you backed him up. He didn’t stay away long, helping your back towards the edge of the rock, lips once again making contact with your throat. His hands caressed your body, but he didn’t do more than touch, giving you a few more moments to recover. “Told ya I’d make you scream,” he muttered, making you scoff.

“I wasn’t that loud.” Was I?

“Scared off a few birds.” He laughed when you slapped his shoulder in mock offense, making him look up. “Ouch,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, shaky hands grabbing the sides of his face and bringing it close to yours. You snuck a quick kiss to his lips, but even though it was short, you could still taste yourself on it. It made your head spin, and you offered no objects as he tugged you into the water, the temperature shock making you gasp.

You’d barely gotten your footing before he was on you, all lips and teeth against your skin. Hands skated down your slides, beneath your thighs, tugging one of them up until it wrapped around his body. You gasped when you felt his hard length press against you, and you rocked your hips eagerly. It got the response you wanted, a groan of your name leaving his lips.

“C’mon, Cooper,” you gasped, hands grasping his shoulders, bracing yourself. “C’mon baby, let me feel you.”

An almost pained noise left his lips before he thrust into you, the mix of your arousal and the water around you allowing him to enter with ease. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, setting a brutal pace almost immediately, his hips snapping up into you. Your nails dug into his scarred skin, and once the initial shock wore off, moans tumbled from your lips.

Water splashed up because of the movement, hitting the rocks, but neither of you paid any mind. How could you, when he was fucking you like it was the only thing he could do, wanted to do? His hand remained on your thigh, helping keep your leg propped up. His other hand held the side of your face, your mouth hung open and panting, and he pulled you in for a messy kiss.

His tongue swept into your open mouth as if he owned it, a groan leaving you at the filthy act. There was so much happening, and like before, you could do nothing but just let it happen, reciprocating as best you could with soft noises and touches.

A particularly hard thrust left you gasping, breaking away from the kiss, choosing to just rest your head against his. Pleasure blossomed across your body, and you felt that familiar tension return. Sneaking a hand between your legs beneath the water, you began to rub at yourself, making you clench around him.

“Hands up,” you barely managed to hear him hiss through a groan. “Keep those hands on me, sweetheart.”

You complied, returning your touch to his shoulders, but your lost additional pleasure was only momentary. His hand replaced yours, nimble fingers working you as well as you could, maybe even better. His fingers moved in slow, hard circles, a complete contrast to the rapid movement of his hips. The two different sensations drove you wild, your breathing coming out as short, hot pants.

You could feel yourself getting close, and you knew he could feel it. The movement of his hips had turned more desperate about thirty seconds ago, and you knew he was close as well. Running your hands up his neck, you pulled his face against yours when they reached his jaw, on the verge of bruising your lips with how aggressively you smashed them against his. “Cooper, I’m so close,” you whispered between kisses.

“Cum for me, sweetheart, fuckin’ fall apart.” You couldn’t tell if he was asking or pleading, but you would fulfill his request either way.

It took a few more presses of his fingers and snaps of his hips until you came, shouting his name like you’d done before. You could barely see through the haze the satisfactory smirk on his lips, pleasure once again washing over your body. Every muscle in your body tensed, and that smirk immediately fell from his lips, turning into an almost scowl as he staved off his own release. “Where-”

“Inside.” You didn’t have to hear the whole question to know what he was asking.

For the first time, he moaned, too caught up in his own pleasure to care. “Fuck, you gonna let me fill ya?” A small laugh of disbelief left him when you nodded. “Goddamn…” His words trailed off as he chased his release, the continued thrusts of his hips bordering on overstimulation. But you didn’t have to wait long, because with a much quieter groan of your name, his hips stilled, and you felt his release seep into you.

For a moment, the two of you just held each other, catching your breaths. Your body felt like it was on fire, a mix of pleasure and the hot water around you, yet you made no move to leave, not wanting this moment to be over yet.

Slowly, his hand let go of your leg, and even though the water helped ease the irritated muscle, you still let out a noise of discomfort. He eased out of you then as well, leaving you feeling empty. Some part of you feared that he would push you away next, but a relieved smile appeared on your face when he tugged you into his arms, a surprisingly gentle kiss placed on top of your damp head.

“You alright?” You don’t think you’d ever heard him so soft, so genuine, and knowing it was aimed at you nearly brought tears to your eyes.

Too many emotions swirled in your chest, and instead of facing them and the discomfort they could bring, you resorted to humor. “I’m surprised you lasted that long, Cooper Howard. You being an old man, after all.”

“Oh, I’ll fuckin’ show ya old, sweetheart.”

#cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout prime #fallout show

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gauntletqueen · 17 hours

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isn't banning people based on "vibes" a conservative way of thinking? Idk I feel like forcibly removing people in your community who didn't do anything based on your idea on what's normal & fear that they COULD be dangerous is a justification for alot of right wing politicians & a basis behind xenaphobia.

Its literally a talking point of our oppressors.

First off there's something funny to me about seeing me retweet something on twitter and then going to my tumblr to respond to it anonymously

Second off, you're making big assumptions on what these vibes might be and what reasons streamers and other online creatives might have for removing people.

Here's some examples of people I've banned from my community discord server based on vibes:

Someone who only ever cared about talking to me, and never acknowledging anyone else in the server. They acted far too familiar with me despite me not knowing them, and continuously sent me DMs where they roleplayed things like hugging me. I explained why all of this behavior was not appreciated but they never listened. Classic parasocial behavior but none of it was against the rules. I still removed them based on vibes because they made everyone, especially myself, very uncomfortable and would not listen when told to stop.

A user who made everything about themself. They would derail every conversation to talk about something they did, often unrelated to the current topic, talk over others to praise themself on something, never listen to other people, interrupt others to talk about how they would've done something better, etc. Not against the rules! But it sure is annoying! I removed them because they constantly brought the mood down by making others feel like they had no place to speak.

Multiple users who only spread negativity. Almost always taking worst faith stances on things, barging into perfectly fine conversations with some overly negative angle all the time, sometimes I'd tell them to stop and they'd say it's just for fun, but it's not very fun when all you accomplish is ruining the mood, is it?

Any time something like this happens, Me and my mods make sure to take the person aside in DMs and explain the situation first, make it clear to them what they're doing wrong, and how we'd like them to stop, and if we still remove them then, it's their own fault. There have been plenty of times where someone was told to stop a certain behavior, and they understood and corrected accordingly.

I'm not removing these people because I suspect they might be secretly right-wing, or phobic, or whatever you're assuming when you say "dangerous", I remove them because they're annoying and don't listen, and I don't want annoying people like that in a simple little discord community that I made for people who like what I do to hang out with each other and have a good time. I have to manage that community and if there's too many problems that becomes hard, and it'll just be a less nice place to be. It's not that deep.

#streaming #vtuber #Unrelated but #I have actually banned people for actual server rule violations and knowing they're about to be removed #they post some way out of right field So Much For The Tolerant Left bullshit anyway last minute #it's kind of funny

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 14. Champion

Beginning. ← Previous |

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Some characters are out of character. Warnings: Cursed words, I only read it once. Word Count: 9322 words (a long boy) Author's Note: So the final chapter is here. This has been a wonderful journey. Like I said in my last post, I'll edit the shit out of this, but I knew this was going to happen either way. I want to thank @elgonki for helping me edit this chapter.

"Faster!" Geto ordered me from the side of the ring.

"Just do it!" Nobara encouraged me to continue.

I kicked the pad that was at Nobara's chest with increasing force and speed. My legs wanted to give up, but I was going to let them. Nobara held the pad as tight as she could to keep it from being pushed with each impact.

Despite the distance, Nobara was always the first to hear the news of my life. She was the first to find out about my neck diagnosis, that I became a trainer, and that the king of the ring had hired me. She was the one who helped me when I needed it most. When Naoya happened, she traveled to Kyoto to give me a hug. I always tried to invite her to eat or drink something after training to thank her for her unconditional support.

It was great to have my old life back. Waking up at 7 in the morning to go for a run, going to the gym to exercise, getting into the ring to train with the other girls and teaching jiujitsu classes to the children in the afternoon. The only thing that had changed for the better was that now I had a nice boyfriend who supported me in everything.

"I brought lunch," Choso announced his presence at the ringside while holding a plastic bag with two salads. I pulled myself away from Nobara to greet my boyfriend.

"Let's take a rest," Nobara suggested with a smile. I got out of the ring and gave my boyfriend a big sweaty hug.

"You smell like you work hard," he joked before planting a kiss on my head.

"You are right. The fight against Maki Zenin is in less than a week. I must be in my best shape to take back what belongs to me,” I told him excitedly.

Mei Mei's office was very different from Nanami's. While Nanami's looked like a lawyer's office that drinks old fashions and smokes good cigars, MeiMei's office was very minimalist and functional. The bone walls contrasted with the black desk and silver electronics. Choso and I were sitting on the white sofa that was placed in front of a small plasma television. We talked about our days while we ate. The green salad with chicken that Choso had brought me reminded me of the meals I used to make for Sukuna from time to time when I lived with him. What I missed about being a trainer was being able to eat anything without having the pressure to gain weight.

“The UFC 300 fight card comes with a bang, as it will be a double championship night!” The host of a sports news program enthusiastically announced to a panel of experts.

“That's right! First, we’ll see The Snake de Medusa versus The Fury. Will The Snake be able to regain her title after her injury?” One of the drivers asked openly to the table to start the debate.

“Are you nervous?” Choso asked me, leaving his empty plate on the glass table.

“A lot, but I'll just get into the octagon, I'll do what I have to do, and I'll take down Maki no matter what,” I answered excitedly.

“That's my girl,” Choso proudly placed a warm kiss on my cheek.

In the time we have been together, my relationship with Choso has been the most beautiful and healthy one I have ever had in my life. He always cares about me, cooks for me and supports me in all my decisions. We had less than 3 months living together, and I still maintained the same opinion I had of him. It was a pleasure to wake up next to him every morning, do housework together and make love in the shower from time to time. I loved doing everything together with him.

“I made you a green juice before I came here,” he said handing me one of my reusable bottles I had at home. I hated green juice, but I had to drink it for my own good.

“Yuta Okkotsu was to face Toge Inumaki for the middleweight belt, but Inumaki suffered an injury that will prevent the fight from taking place. Do they already know who his replacement will be?” One of the commentators asked with curiosity.

Yuta and Toge have always been friendly rivals. Outside the UFC they are almost always seen together at events and parties, but once they get in the ring, they are ready to kill each other. That energy of brotherhood and competitiveness makes their fights even more entertaining and among the bestsellers in the business. This rematch had been announced for 3 months. It was a shame that shortly before the event, Inumaki could no longer participate. I wanted to see the fight too.

“It's a good thing you mentioned it, because we have exclusive news for Total Sport! Toge Inumaki's replacement will be no one more and no one less than Sukuna Ryomen!” At that name, I can't help but spit out the green juice.

“What?!” I yelled as I got up from the sofa.

“Just like that! Sukuna will finally go after a second title.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. Sukuna and I would be at the same event! What wonderful news! After I moved to Nagoya, Sukuna hardly ever gave me any sign of life. He would either leave me on read or answer my messages weeks later. I sent hundreds of emails to Nanami to schedule a training session together, but I never received a reply. Every time Choso took me to one of his family events, I expected to see him there, in his fancy suit and expensive sunglasses. Unfortunately, Yuuji would always arrive alone and tell me that Sukuna was busy. It was frustrating to get in touch with him, but at last we would see each other again.

“I'll get to see Sukuna fight live again, what a thrill!” I squealed in excitement as Choso wiped up the mess I had made with a napkin.

“Are you that excited to see him?” I asked dryly.

“Of course I am. I was his coach for a year, and he improved so much in such a short time. I want to see how much he has improved without me,” I answered wistfully.

As much as I loved being back as a fighter, sometimes I liked to remember when I was his coach. The time when I could coexist in the mixed martial arts world and I didn't get hurt often. The best of both worlds. Even though I had my peace of mind, I missed Sukuna making me angry, laughing or crying with joy.

“Do you miss him that much?” Choso asked me out of the blue, avoiding my gaze completely.

“A little. It's just that it's been so long since I last saw him that I'm excited to see how he's doing,” I answered as I sat back down on the couch.

It had been a year since we last saw each other. When we said goodbye after leaving his penthouse, I didn't think it would take me that long to see him again. If I was already excited to return to the octagon for my title, now I was happy to know that Sukuna would see me fight live for the first time. A smile crept onto my face at the idea.

After a heavy week of training until exhaustion, a diet based on chicken breast and study sessions on Maki, we finally arrived at the mythical land where all addictions are connected. Traveling to Las Vegas was always a pleasure. Nobara was excited to travel with me to a new place, Mei Mei was on the phone, and Suguru and I were constantly talking about the fight.

"You better not disappoint us." Suguru joked as the entire team and I headed to the UFC center for the official weigh-in in a family van.

"She will never let us down! She is the strongest fighter there is!” Nobara defended me.

"I’ll give my best," I said in an attempt to stop the fight along with a smile.

I looked at Choso, who had a sad look and hardly spoke during the trip. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but there wasn't a time when we were private enough to ask him. Maybe it was because the last time he was here was when he “found his ex-fiancée with his brother.” I tried to cheer him up several times by telling him that we would go for a drink after the fight and then to the casino, but I couldn't.

The official weigh-in went well. I showed up in front of my old rival Maki and the rest of the disgusting Zenin. I wanted to tell them to go to hell, but I maintained my professionalism. After all, my problem wasn't with Maki, but with her disgusting cousin. After the fight rules were read to us, we returned to the hotel for the exhibition weigh-in. Nobara and Mei Mei did my hair, and they retouched my light makeup to get me camera ready. Upon arriving at the hotel, an insane amount of reporters appeared out of nowhere. I smiled for the cameras, but without losing sight of the entrance. An assistant guided us to a hallway so we could wait there for them to call us for the press conference.

"You look pretty," Choso flattered me with a smile.

"Thank you. I hope you don't ask me offensive questions…” My eyes interrupted what I was going to say as soon as I saw that large figure that I hadn't seen a year ago.

His hair was longer than he remembered, and his features were thinner from having to have lost 5 kilos at once for the fight to take place. He walked alongside the Black Team with their respective jacket and black over-ear headphones. Our eyes connected and something in my mind clicked. I smiled instantly and ran up to him to receive him.

"Sukuna!" I greeted him excitedly with my arms outstretched, waiting for a warm hug.

But I didn't receive a hug, not even a greeting, a “fuck you” would have hurt less. He just ignored me and avoided me like I was the plague in person. My smile fell as I realized the reality. He who had ignored me felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown in my face. What had I done wrong? Why was he acting like this after everything we went through? Seeing his back walking away from me made my heart feel heavier than normal.

"Do not take it personally," Yuuji told me, approaching me. "He's only angry because he's hungry. He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday to reach the official weight.” My friend had dark circles under his eyes and he didn't smile as usual. He looked worse than Nanami on tax day.

"I see…" It was the only thing I could say without sounding disappointed.

"He's even an idiot when his stomach is full, they should be used to it by now," Uraume commented as they approached us. I greeted them after years of not seeing each other, happy that they was with Team Black.

"Yes, that's definitely Sukuna." Choso commented, joining the conversation as he put his arm around my shoulders.

"If he's not upset with something, he's not Sukuna." Yuuji tried to joke, but he couldn't even laugh. You could tell that Sukuna had been using him as his personal punching bag for the past few days.

The younger pink-haired boy began to tell us about the hell it had been to train with his older brother in recent days, while Choso hugged me by the shoulders. I looked askance behind me. Gojo and Nanami were talking to Sukuna, surely they were reminding him what not to say in the interview. His eyes met mine again for a second, but out of pride, I returned my gaze to the conversation I was in. I sighed in an attempt to ease my poor heart.

The press conference with Maki's team had also gone well. We maintained respect while the clear competitiveness could be seen from miles away. That day I spent warming up and training in the hotel gym, preparing myself mentally for the fight. Although now my problem was not with Maki, but with Sukuna. I understand that he was angry, but he doesn't ignore people just because. It's not like he ignored me by accident because he saw me, he saw my eyes. I am sure of it.

Night fell quickly. After a good training session with Geto and a good dinner that relieved my hungry stomach. Choso and I headed to the suite the UFC had paid for us. My body was so tired that once it hit the bed, it didn't want to get up. Despite my fatigue, I was not sleepy. The memory of Sukuna ignoring me ate me alive, I needed answers, but I had no way to get them.

Choso took off my shoes and lay down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in the crook of my neck. His breathing was soft and rhythmic. I stroked her hair as I looked at the ceiling that had a hint of glitter. The lights of bright Las Vegas peeked out the window in a dance between blues and greens. I lay on my side to hug Choso fully and give him a soft kiss on the lips. I moved a little away from his face to see him better. My finger pushed his raven hair to the side to see his eyes, but they were closed.

"Are you tired?" I whispered to him.

"A bit," Choso answered. "It's just been a long day," he said before pulling me towards him so he could lay on my chest.

I sighed upon hearing that response. More than tired, he looked discouraged. I wish I knew how to cheer him up, but I didn't. The only thing I could do was hold him close to me and stroke his hair, brushing it between my fingers. My hands slowly lowered to his back. I ran my fingertips along his shoulder blades and down his spine. Something that used to feel warm and welcoming now felt cold and distant. What was going on?

I could barely sleep. I opened and closed my eyes every two hours because anxiety was eating me alive. Between my championship fight and the strange behavior of the Itadori brothers, my mind couldn't calm down. My theories ran back and forth trying to give a reasonable answer to the situation. I reluctantly opened my eyes and noticed the time. It was 6 o'clock, an hour before the alarm would ring to go out for a run. Choso was on the other side of the bed. It shouldn't bother you.

Since I was alone, I headed to the hotel gym to use the treadmills. What I didn't expect was to see that Team Black coming out of the reception. “I forgot he also runs at this time,” I thought excitedly. This was my chance to ask him if everything was okay between us. I ran out of the hotel to catch up with them. Yuuji, Gojo, and Sukuna were warming up on the sidewalk to begin their morning run down the sidewalk. The champion was wearing his headphones like the day before.

"Good morning, guys!" I waved to the team as I approached.

"Good morning, and Choso?" Yuuji asked me curiously.

"Asleep. It's still very early for him,” Explain with a smile so they wouldn’t get worry. "Are you going for a run? Can I go? I asked excitedly.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Gojo intercepted me.

"I don't think Sukuna would mind, it's not like we haven't done it before, right?" I completely ignored his warning.

I approached Sukuna, who looked more intimidating than usual. Almost nothing had changed about his appearance, but his vibe was very different from the last time I saw him. What the fuck was happening? He looked at me getting closer to him, now I couldn't ignore me. He didn't greet me or take off his headphones to greet me.

"Hello! Can I join?!" I yelled at him so he could hear me even though he had his headphones on.

He looked at me from head to toe with disdain as if I were scum and turned to run away. I was frozen and with my mouth open. He's blatantly ignoring me! My mind couldn't understand why I was doing it. Did I do something wrong? Do I smell bad? Do you have amnesia and don't recognize me? What the hell is wrong with him?

"Sorry, see you later," Yuuji told me, giving me an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before following his brother and Gojo.

I smiled offended as I saw Sukuna running away. After a year together, was he going to pretend I didn't exist? I couldn't allow it. I wasn't going to let him make fun of me. I couldn't let the king of assholes straight up ignore me like that. If he could go back to how it was before, me too and it would be worse this time.

I ran after them. My feet moved before my mind could decide on a plan. He ran with all the frustration he had stored up since yesterday. In less time than I thought, I passed Yuuji and Gojo to reach Sukuna. I grabbed his headphones and ripped them off his head. I threw his precious headphones with all my might into the street, getting lost in the traffic. I smiled satisfied at my mischief.

"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Sukuna yelled at me in annoyance before walking steadily towards me.

"Am I no longer invisible?" I asked, backing away from him.

Sukuna stopped as soon as he realized why he had done it. I thought he would yell at me more, call me some ridiculous nickname, or tell me to stop bothering him, but I got nothing from him. Absolutely nothing. He just looked at me like he pitied me. That had been a direct stab to my ego.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I exclaimed, annoyed, but he didn't tell me anything else.

He just looked at me with those dark eyes. Those eyes that used to look at me with anger, mockery, and sometimes desire. There was nothing behind them anymore. There was only one Sukuna who didn't care at all. An urge to cry invaded me, but I held it back.

"Forget it, I don't want to talk to the king of assholes anyway,” I blurted out, continuing my run by myself.

I ran and ran. My feet were already used to this, but this time they felt heavier. I couldn't give up, I had to continue until I reached the hotel again. I wanted to escape from that empty look. I could run all I wanted, but that memory was faster than me. Sukuna looking into my eyes as if I didn't exist for him. A pain invaded my ribs.

I went to a wall to rest, so the horse pain would go away. I bit my lower lip to stop the inevitable. A row of tears emerged from my eyes uncontrollably. I tried to wipe them away with the back of my hand, but they kept appearing. I crouched forward so no one would see me in my most vulnerable state. “Why do I care so much?” I questioned myself confused.

After getting all my tears out, I looked for my phone in my pants to call a taxi. I was not in the mood to continue my journey to the hotel. Only my phone wasn't there. “Ah, shit… I left it in the suite,” I thought, annoyed with myself for forgetting it. No way, I would have to run back to the hotel.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I breathed a sigh of relief to finally have reached the floor of my suite. I headed towards my door, but I heard terrible door knocks. I paused, debating whether I should check out what it was about or not. Although this was no longer safe Japan, this was wild Las Vegas. I headed back towards my door until I heard…

"Sukuna! Open the hell up! I know you're there! Choso shouted at the top of his lungs.

I turned back to see what was happening. Choso was pounding on the door of the master suite with both clenched fists. He acted like a lunatic desperate for attention. This was the first time I had seen him do something like that.

"What are you doing?" I asked him confused. He turned to me and looked at me like I was a ghost.

"There you are," He approached me, clearly upset. "Where the hell were you?!" He yelled at me.

Choso had never yelled at me like that before. My eyebrow raised at his strange attitude. My ego had been bruised enough today, I didn't need my boyfriend to jump on the boat too. What the hell was happening to everyone?!

"I went out to run…". I answered confused.

"Do not lie to me!". Choso yelled in my face.

"I'm not lying to you, you can ask Yuuji or Sukuna!" I yelled, offended. Choso clicked his tongue offended.

"So you were with him…" He muttered angrily.

"I found him at the reception". I defended myself. "Nothing happened".

"Oh yeah?" He rolled his eyes, he didn't believe me at all.

"Yeah! Why are you treating me like I've done something wrong?!” I exclaimed annoyed, getting down to his level.

"Because you tricked me, Yuki!" Choso barked angrily.

My eyes widened when I heard that. His eyes also widened as he realized what he had said. My world was falling apart in a single morning. I took a couple of steps back to get away from him while a knot formed in my throat.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean that," He tried to apologize. "You know this place brings back bad memories of what happened."

"I'm not like her," I muttered, annoyed.

"Of course not," He tried to take my hand, but I jerked out of his grasp.

"I would never use Sukuna for money!" I exclaimed, annoyed. "I wouldn't hurt others for my own benefit!" Choso looked at me shocked, as if I had said something bad about his mother.

"Do not tell me that…". He tried to say from the impression. "Don't tell me you believed that absurd story about what he wanted to use to get into the UFC."

"Yes, I do believe him."

"I can't believe you were so stupid."

Before I thought, my hand was already flying towards his cheek. It hit her in a clean impact that turned her face. He wasn't going to call me that to my face, ever. I wasn't going to tolerate another man treating me like trash. Choso looked at me surprised that I had the courage to hit him.

"Of course I'm going to believe him when the same bitch confirmed it." I declared.

"What?! Did you meet her?! Where?!" He asked me perplexed.

"You would know if you saw Sukuna's fights," I barked as I turned around. "You don't need to come to training today," I asked before going back to my suite.

Choso tried to follow me to reconsider, but I just slammed the door in his face. I entered the main room, tired, ashamed and exhausted. Everything had happened too quickly and without logical explanation. I looked for my phone and headphones on the nightstand. I unlock my phone to listen to music and the first thing I see is the photo I took with Choso when we moved into our nice apartment. A tear fell on the screen, preventing me from entering my password.

Choso had just thrown our entire relationship down the drain. That loving and attentive Choso disintegrated into the air like dust. The only thing I had left were its annoying ashes that I would have to sweep up later. First there was Sukuna ignoring and now Choso confusing me with a woman I hate. I curled up in bed to cry comfortably. I put on the first sad song that came across my playlist to cry to. I only had an hour before training, and I wasn't going to waste it. Soon I submerged on my own tears and snot. I fought against my own nose to breathe again through the mess. I had to get everything I felt in my chest to be able to put up a good fight.

The night fell slower than I would have preferred. Nobara, seeing me with swollen and somewhat reddish eyes, asked me what had happened, but I told her that I didn't want to talk about it now. I had to focus on the fight. She was going to get in the ring, do what she had to do and come out as the champion. That was easy.

UFC 300 started with a bang. I watched each of the matches while warming up with Nobara in the small conditioning room they had given us to wait for my turn to fight. He gently tapped the pads at a good pace, fast and precise. I would lower my head when she tried to hit me. We danced in the small space we had to do so.

"I like that look," Geto told me while monitoring my training. "You look angry."

I was angry. Choso had not arrived at the event and doubted he would. There were 15 minutes left until my fight. I told him he shouldn't go to training, I didn't think he would also take my biggest fight as part of it.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I asked for a break as I left Nobara.

I looked terrible. My eyes were puffy from crying and my skin looked duller than usual. I would look terrible on camera, but there was nothing I could do about it. That's what happened to me for crying in the shower instead of bathing properly. I slapped myself in front of the mirror. “Concentrate, you can't let two assholes take you down easily.” I tried to cheer myself up and, in a way, I succeeded. “You're a badass.”

When I left the bathroom, I was going to go back to my room, but out of the corner of my eye I saw that dark hair that I knew so well. It was Choso, but he wasn't heading towards me. He didn't even see me. He continued walking down the hallway until he got lost in a corridor. I had to return to my living room, but my intuition begged me to follow him and that's exactly what I did. I was going to turn the same corner as him, until I heard his voice.

"What the fuck were you doing with my girlfriend in the morning?" He asked annoyed. That was enough of a sign for me to stay hidden. It broke my heart that Choso didn't believe me.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sukuna's annoying voice echoed through the hallways. He had surely arrived at his conditioning room.

"She told me she was with you in the morning. Now answer the damn question,” Choso retorted, his tone becoming more aggressive with each word.

"We met at the hotel entrance. That was it," Sukuna answered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! She threw my headphones into traffic because I've been ignoring her like you asked!”

This couldn't be happening. Was Choso the reason for everything? Was Sukuna ignoring me, ghosting me, or avoiding me because of him? I covered my mouth so as not to sob out loud. I never thought Choso would be able to take me away from one of the most important people in my life, especially his brother. I never thought his insecurity would reach this level.

"Good". Choso muttered. "I believe you."

"You better believe me this time because I've been suffering for you, and you know it." Sukuna replied annoyed.

"It's not my fault she chose me over you." Now what the fuck were they talking about? "It's your karma."

"Is that so? Are you just using her to get back at me?” Sukuna asked him offended. Faced with silence, he spoke again. "Just tell me one thing, do you really love her or did you just want to take her away from me?"

"I like her. She's pretty.”

One year dating! One damn year dating and this son of a bitch only likes me! My tears of sadness turned to frustration. What stupid game had they put me into? Had every moment we'd spent together been a lie? A beautiful lie to keep me by your side? He had been making fun of me this whole time, and I wasn't going to let him have it. I clenched my fists in anger. I heard how they began to struggle between grunts and curses. It was hard to know what was going on because I was still hiding in the corner.

"She’s pretty?! That's it?! God, you're a big idiot!” Sukuna yelled, annoyed. "You have a renowned fighter, a wonderful person and the most beautiful woman as your girlfriend, and you only say that she is pretty?!"

A weak smile appeared on my face. I didn't know he looked at me that way. That statement felt like the calm in the eye of the hurricane. My confused tears came out for different reasons. Anger at Choso's selfishness and happiness at finally knowing what Sukuna really thought about me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, returning me to my reality. I took it out to read Nobara's message.

Bestie: Where are you? We should be at the entrance by now.

I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt before running off to my championship fight. She was unaware of the entire strange situation between Choso and Sukuna, but she was sure of one thing. I was going to kill that bitch.

SUKUNA POV

Since we were kids, Choso knew me better than anyone else. He knew when he was hungry, angry, or wanted to get into mischief just by looking at me. I never understood how he did it. It was like he could read my mind better than I could. That's why he was able to share me his cookies without me asking, he calmed me down when I needed it and took the bucket out of my hands when I wanted to dunk Yuuji in front of his friends. His strong intuition no longer surprised me. It wasn't until he realized I liked Y/n before I knew it.

"She’s pretty?! That's all?! God, you're a big idiot!” I yelled in his face. "You have a renowned fighter, a wonderful person and the most beautiful woman as your girlfriend, and you only say that she is pretty?!"

I had him cornered against the wall. It was the closest thing I could do without beating him to death. The last time I did that, it didn't go very well. I really thought he loved her the same way I did, but no, he just used her to hurt me. My fists were turning red from the force I was applying so that he couldn't slip out of my hands.

"Do you see what it feels like to have something taken away from you?" Choso asked me.

"She's not damn candy!" I exclaimed annoyed. "She's a woman who really loves you, and you're still thinking about your whore ex. Don't you realize how pathetic you sound?!"

"Hey, don't talk about Yuki like that!" Choso yelled back to me.

"And don't talk about Y/n as if she were a trophy!" I yelled at him, barely containing my anger. I was reaching for everything in my power not to knock him out again.

"She is! Finally, I have something that you don't!” He yelled in my face. "You always had everything, the best grades, the approval of our parents, the girls you wanted. Even the girls I liked, always they liked you! Yuki was the only one who really liked me back.”

“Y/n really likes you too.” I said before slamming him against the wall of anger. The door to my living room opened, Gojo's white head peeked out. I sighed and reluctantly let go of Choso.

"Y/n is already going to fight," he told me to return to the room.

"Shouldn't you be with her?" I asked him worried. He just avoided my gaze, ashamed. "Now what did you do?"

"It's already on!" Yuuji excitedly informed me from inside. Gojo asked me to come in with his eyes. I sighed exasperated, but ignored him. I pulled my little brother to come into the living room with me.

Hiss by Megan Thee Stallion echoed through the room as everyone settled in front of the television to watch the first championship fight of the night. She looked just as intimidating as she did in every fight, but this time she looked annoyed. I had seen her last fights, she always smiled confidently while fighting the air. This time, her smile had disappeared, and she just walked towards the octagon with a mean look. Her eyes looked reddish and lifeless. “What the fuck did you do to him?” I asked Choso telepathically. I didn't want to start another argument with Yuuji in the room.

Y/n took off her sweatshirt and revealed that body that drove me crazy. Her sports bra and those green 2-in-1 shorts they accentuated her figure beautifully. The referee checked her and gave her the go-ahead to enter the octagon. She walked around the place as if the entire place belonged to her. She stretched her limbs like an elegant panther ready to hunt.

It didn't take long for Maki to make her appearance, but I didn't care about her in the slightest. What surprised me was seeing the idiot Naoya behind her. Y/n probably knew this would happen, after all they are cousins, and they train in the same temple. This would only increase the pressure you feel.

The two fighters met in the ring. Finally, the moment Y/n had been waiting for for years had arrived. This would be the night she would reign in the octagon again. The referee repeated the rules to them and they both clashed gloves.

"Come on, Snake!" Yuuji exclaimed excitedly.

They both stepped back to start the fight. My eyes were on Y/n. “Come on, you can do it,” I thought, hoping to see an incredible fight. The bell rang, and she lunged at Maki without waiting another second, welcoming her with a Superman punch which made Maki step back. Team Black celebrated the small victory of the first blow euphorically.

Maki then lunged at her with equal force to try to take the fight to the ground. He took her arms to bring her closer to his body and threw her to the ground. Y/n resisted the attack well, but managed to take it to her advantage. She took advantage of the fact that she was holding her to use her thigh as a ladder to climb on top of her like a python. In one swift movement, she climbed over her to wrapped her powerful legs and strong arms around her arm. He slammed her to the ground using his own weight. The public went crazy when they saw a strong python strangling its poor prey. My eyes couldn't blink for fear of missing that live massacre.

Once on the ground, Y/n took advantage of the closeness to choke Maki with her leg. Zenin began to squirm to find a way out of the unexpected move. With her free opposite arm and her legs away from Y/n, she didn’t have any options. Her team was yelling incoherently at Maki in an attempt to help her, but there was nothing they could do. Y/n had already won with a perfect arm bar. After the referee saw that Maki could not escape in any way, he ended the fight so that she would not pass out from lack of air.

Team Black cheered euphoric. I already knew that she was a magnificent fighter. She had proved herself on again and again every time we trained together, but this time she had shined. She had proven once again that she was a dangerous woman that no one can mess with.

"Sometimes I forget that she could easily kill me," Choso told me.

"Only if you make her angry," I warned him.

END OF SUKUNA POV

"The Medusa Serpent defeated The Fury in 15 seconds! A personal record!”

I didn't know what happened or when it happened. I just blinked, and I was already choking Maki with my legs. Had won. She was the champion again. The Octagon belonged to me again, but I wasn't happy. I didn't feel the euphoria running through my body. My team jumped into the octagon to hug me and congratulate me on my victory. I smiled weakly. In the distance I saw Naoya scolding Maki for losing so embarrassingly. Even though the fight hadn't lasted long, my body felt tired.

"Y/n, The Medusa Serpent, Y/l/n, the new champion!". The host announced excitedly as soon as the referee raised my arm, granting me the victory.

Geto helped me put on the gold belt and lifted me onto his shoulders, so everyone could see me. I raised my arms in victory as everyone applauded me. This was what I wanted, this was what I had trained for for years, why did I still feel like shit?

"We all knew you would make it!" Nobara hugged me once we got off the octagon after they finished interviewing my coach and I.

"This is to celebrate! I made a reservation at The Chandelier,” Mei Mei announced, thrilled.

"Go ahead." I asked them tiredly. "I want to see Sukuna's fight."

"We'll wait for you in the room then." Nobara told me before hugging me. "Are you okay?" She whispered so no one could hear us. I just nodded so she wouldn't worry.

I went to the seat I had asked the UFC to set aside for me in the front row. People around shook my hand to congratulate me on my victory. I just thanked them and smiled kindly at them. I sank into the black seat as I listened to the loud music and watched the lights dance through the audience. While enjoying the view, I saw Choso running through the audience. You looked everywhere as if you were looking for something. I sank further into my seat hoping he would see me, but he did.

"Congratulations, beautiful!". He greeted me with a smile. “Bitch ass fake.”

"Thank you."

"Let's celebrate! You deserve it!" He exclaimed excitedly.

"I want to see Sukuna's fight." I said without getting up from my seat.

"We can watch it with the others at the bar," He tried to convince me, taking my hand.

"No, I want to see the fight live," I asked him.

He was going to tell me something more, maybe convince me more, but the light in the auditorium went out and Sukuna's song began to boom from the speakers. Making the audience go crazy. The host announced the second championship fight of the night. Sukuna entered the auditorium like the majestic fighter that he is. The crowd around went crazy just seeing him live. I forced Choso to sit next to me so we could watch the fight together.

Sukuna climbed into the ring and walked around the perimeter of the ring, listening to the screams of his fans. Even though Yuta had entered the auditorium, he couldn't take his eyes off Sukuna. He looked better than ever. I missed seeing him through the fence. His strong body glowing under the white lights, his hair swinging from side to side as he warms up and his eyes watching me closely.

It didn't take long for the fight to start. Yuta lunged at Sukuna to hit him. Being smaller in stature, he was more volatile and flexible. His feet moved quickly to strike and defend with ease. Sukuna tried to catch him and hit him, but Yuta always escaped him. The king was engaging in an extreme game of whack-a-mole.

Until now, Yuta was the only one who had thrown punches so far. Sukuna tried to throw his best punches, but none of them managed to connect completely. His upper movements looked stiff and slower than usual.

"Come on, Sukuna. Stop playing." I whispered to myself.

The pace of the fight was guided by Yuta. He was the one moving, punching, kicking, it was like he was fighting against a steel wall. Sukuna tried to keep up with him, but his body was not up to it. He threw a punch, Yuta dodged it and landed a blow with his right shoulder. Sukuna's scream could be heard throughout the auditorium. I knew that cry very well. I stood up from my seat, like most of the audience, in an attempt to find out what was happening. Sukuna backed up to lean against the fence, holding his shoulder. Yuta took advantage of this to arrive and knock him out with a blow to the jaw. Sukuna fell like a sack of potatoes at that. The referee quickly arrived to assist him and declared the fight over. Shoko soon got into the octagon to check it out.

"Sukuna…" I whispered in shock, seeing him unconscious on the floor on the giant screen.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine." Choso told me.

"That scream was not normal," I said worriedly, stroking my neck when I remembered I was in Sukuna’s shoes.

"He just need to go to the doctor. Shoko will treat him and he will be fine,” He tried to calm me down again. "Let's get out of here, they are waiting for us to go celebrate,” He took my arm so we could leave.

"What kind of brother are you?!" Finally, I exploded in his face. Choso looked at me surprised. "Your brother is suffering on the ground, and you are thinking of celebrating?!".

"I only worry about you."

"No! You've never cared about me! You only care about yourself!” I yelled, furious. I didn't care who listened to me. I could not take it anymore.

"That's not true... You know I love you." Choso told me.

"Oh really?! And why didn't you tell Sukuna that?!” I didn't hit him again, but I did give him a verbal slap. "I'm not going to be your little consolation prize…"

"You are not," Choso interrupted me.

"Just stop lying!" I screamed tiredly. "It's over!"

"Y/n... Please, are you really going to choose him?" Choso wondered.

I was going to answer him, but I saw that the paramedics quickly arrived on the scene. This couldn't be happening. Not again. They put Sukuna on the stretcher and took him away from the chaos.

"I do…"

"What?"

"I do choose him, I should have done it from the beginning,” I answered firmly before dodging him.

I ran out to where they were taking him. Being a fighter, I had almost access to any part of the auditorium, so they let me pass. Escape the crowd to get backstage to the medical wing. Sukuna was still unconscious and with a mouthpiece in his face. My mind transported me back to 3 years ago, where I was the one on that cold stretcher and had no idea what I was going through having to tolerate the pain.

"Y/n!". Yuuji called me as he saw me with his teary eyes as we watched Sukuna being loaded into an ambulance. Once I hugged him, he collapsed in my arms. Gojo and Shoko got on into the ambulance with him and the paramedics closed the door behind them.

"What the hell happened to him?!" I demanded answers while holding Yuuji.

"Let's go to the hospital," Nanami told me without the intention of answering my question.

I stood watching the ambulance speed away with sirens blaring while my friend sobbed for his brother. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were already dry. I had already cried a lot that day, I had to hydrate myself.

Returning to the hospital gave me chills. The cold hallways, the people in a hurry and the strange clean smell. Being in the waiting room was no better. Being sad in a place surrounded by sad people only made my mood worse. We had already been here for two hours and the only thing they told us was that he needed emergency surgery for a throwing shoulder injury. A common injury among high-performance athletes is a tear due to stress on the shoulder.

"Congratulations," Gojo told me as he gave me a bottle of water to wake up from the trance.

"I'm not in the mood for congratulations," I said sincerely.

"It's not from me, it's from Sukuna." He clarified. "He watched the fight and was fascinated, you did a good job,” he told me before messing my hair.

The thought of Sukuna being proud of me calmed my tortured heart a little. Despite his coach’s good intentions, I wanted him to tell me himself. The door to the emergency room opened, and they called out to those who came to see Sukuna Ryomen.

"The surgery was a success. I already informed Shoko privately,” The doctor said. Yuuji and I sighed in relief.

"How long will it take to return to training? One, two years?” I asked excitedly. I didn't get a response. "Maybe three like me?" The emotion decreased with every word seeing that no one was excited by the news.

"When I said that the surgery was a success, I mean that he did not lose his shoulder and that he will be able to move it with a lot of rehabilitation, but not enough to return to the ring." The doctor explained.

"What?!" Yuuji and I exclaimed at the same time.

"But this is his first injury, right?!" I exclaimed, worried that we would be given the wrong diagnosis.

"Yes, but it was not treated on time. Sukuna completely refused to have the surgery because he would stop fighting for a couple of years,” Shoko answered.

"Since when?" I asked angrily. I clenched my fists to stop myself from screaming, but I couldn't. "Since when have he had that injury?!" I screamed.

"Two years ago," Nanami replied, avoiding my gaze, clearly ashamed.

Two years ago I was his coach. During that year, Sukuna was suffering and didn't tell me? This day I couldn't get any worse. First Sukuna ignored me, then Choso mistook me for his ex-fiancée. It also turns out that my boyfriend doesn't love me. Now Sukuna will never be able to fight again because an injury that I could possibly worsen with exercise routines was not treated.

"And why didn't you tell me?!". I screamed inconsolably. Now it was Yuuji's turn to hug me to calm me down. "How could you let him fight in that state, you fucking idiots?!" I cried out loud against his chest. The only response I received was Yuuji's sobs. Out of anger, I pushed him away from me. "Why are you crying?! You surely knew, and you didn't tell me anything, you fucking gossip!” I screamed from the deepest part in my chest.

"I didn't know! If I had known, I would have helped him!" He yelled back at me with teary eyes.

That made me calm down a little. I was getting out of control. I took a deep breath and analyzed the situation. How did Yuuji, who is by Sukuna's side 24/7, not know about this? Wait… Yes, I knew that, but not the truth.

"The thing is, he has… “Sessions” with the physiotherapist. You know what I mean?" I remembered when Yuuji secretly told me that Sukuna was sleeping with Shoko. Did Sukuna lie to his own brother so he wouldn't know about his shoulder back then?

"Shoko" I called her. She looked at me curiously. "How many times did you sleep with Sukuna?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I am a lesbian," she answered with her eyebrow raised.

I was already tired of crying. All he could do was laugh at the ridiculous situation he was in. Sukuna was a huge idiot. A stubborn bastard who will do anything to be on top. Poor him… now he is on the slopes of the mountain while I am conquering him. Yes, you are the king of the assholes.

The nurse who was treating Sukuna left the room. I went ahead of everyone to go in first and close the door behind me. The others tried to open the door, but it was impossible from outside without a key. I approached the stretcher. He had a wet towel covering his sharp face. He had his arm posed with bandages and an angle where it wouldn't hurt further.

"You have 5 minutes to tell me the truth." I ordered bothers by removing the towel and throwing it across the room.

"Weren't you a pitcher in your past life?" He asked me sarcastically.

"Don't try to be a smart ass! Tell me the whole truth now! I know you've been hiding things from me since I've been your coach,” I ordered under my breath.

"I have a pitcher's shoulder injury and I didn't treat it because I didn't want to stop fighting. Happy?" He answered me dryly, without looking me in the eyes.

"What else?"

"There is nothing else," Sukuna lied to me.

"Please, Sukuna…" I begged him. "Do not do this to me. You know you've hidden other things from me. Just say it".

"How much do you know?" He asked me looking into my eyes.

"I know more things than you think."

"So if you already know, what's the point of me saying it?" Sukuna answered, closing his eyes and facing away. I squeezed the railing of the stretcher out of anger.

"So you're not going to tell me that you love me?" I asked offended. He turned to look at me faster than lightning, but he didn't say a single word. We stared at each other for a long while in silence.

"I'm not going to say that to my brother's girlfriend." He answered dryly.

"Who in their right mind would stay with an idiot who can't get over their ex?". He just looked at me surprised at that statement. "So say it… You have a free field." I asked him.

Sukuna just stared at me in disbelief, debating in his mind whether this was real or a test. Say it, say it, just say it for the love of God! Tell me you love me, tell me I'm special to you, tell me all the things you bravely said to Choso, but you're ashamed to tell me when I am in front of you. After a couple more seconds of silence, I decided to give up. It was okay that I wanted answers, but I wasn't going to beg him to give them to me.

"Fine. I won't bother you anymore, get well soon." I let go of the railing to get away from the situation.

As soon as I turned around, his hand took possession of my arm and returned me to my place, this time pulling me towards him. Our faces were inches apart. I could see his features in great detail. His tribal tattoos framing his face, his penetrating eyes, his straight nose and his full lips. He grabbed my sweatshirt to close the distance with a deep kiss that made me melt inside. That's when I realized why I missed being his trainer or watching him fight, actually, I missed him. Being close to him, spending time with him, kissing him. I felt complete and complete every time Sukuna took me as his.

"I love you…". He whispered into my lips. "I love you so much that I let you go because I thought you would be happier with someone like Choso," he explained as he caressed my cheeks with his fingers.

"What's the point of being happy if everything is a lie?". I asked him with a smile.

"But I'm a mess, dear," he warned me.

"If you're a mess, I'm a damn chaos." I replied before meeting our lips again.

His lips traveled over my mouth as if it were newly discovered terrain. Even though we had already done this behind everyone's back, it felt like it was the first time. I loved him, and I was no longer afraid to admit that that love that I thought I had buried deep in my soul was still there. Only this time he would do anything to stay by her side. We were both being consumed by the agony of wanting to be together. Sukuna pulled me by the waist with his free arm to lift me onto the stretcher with a strength I didn't think I would have in this situation, making me sit on top of him.

"We can't do it here. Everyone is outside,” I whispered to him.

"I just want you to stay close to me, you damn pervert," He said with a mischievous smile. My face blushed with embarrassment.

I lay on his chest, on the side that wouldn't bother his injured shoulder. He drew imaginary circles on his chest as he told me everything he already knew. That Choso asked him to stay away from me so that she could trust him again. That he had lied to Yuuji about sleeping with Shoko so that no one would find out about his injury for fear of it becoming news. That he had hidden his feelings towards me, and he never thought that his feelings were reciprocated.

"And why did you lose the fight? What happened to your good luck ritual? I asked him confused.

"It hasn't worked since my fight with Aoi Todo." He answered with a smile just for me. That meant that all this time he had been fighting without luck on his side. "No one satisfies me like you." He purred against my cheek.

I smiled flattered by that strong statement. I snuggled closer to his strong chest and slipped my hand into his robe to caress his bare skin. My body felt light with each passing second and each time he brushed my hair between his fingers. It had been such a long day and I needed a break.

SUKUNA POV

Even though Yuta Okkotsu massacred me in the octagon, having her in my arms made me feel like I was still the champion. Little by little she fell asleep. I was sure my arm would fall asleep, but I didn't care at all. His warmth made me feel more alive than ever, and I never wanted him to leave me again.

I heard the living room door open. Yuuji was going to shout something, but I silenced him from my place. The rest of the team came in behind him to ask me how I was feeling.

"Do you need something?" Yuuji asked me in a low voice.

"I already have everything I need," I said, looking at Y/n.

Masterlist.

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Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates @00frenchfries00 @crownedgemini @alialucille @azuremyst99 @dorck26 @esposadomd

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dduane · 15 hours

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Good morning, I have a travel question I was hoping you could advise on. Do most places in Dublin still take cash? A lot of cafes etc. here have gone card-only, and I'm wondering if I'd be better off getting one of those pre-paid cards for the visit I'm planning this summer rather than taking cash euros. (I know I *could* just use my debit card in that case, but alas, the foreign transaction fees.)

You know, it's been a while since I used cash for much of anything in/around Dublin except cabs (because every now and then I've found myself in a cab that's not card-equipped).

That said: I've seen a fair number of cash transactions taking place when I've been up in town over the last year or so. This site suggests that at least 20% of all payment transactions in the country are in cash; and the Irish government has recently approved "access to cash" legislation to make sure that people who need to use cash aren't shut out of it. (I'm not clear on exactly when the legislation starts to become real in public practice, but at least it's on the books.)

In the short term, in your situation I'd try to split the difference. I'd tank up my phone or watch in Euro, ahead of time, at the most favorable exchange rate I could manage. And a pre-paid card sounds like a good idea too, for times when the phone might be having some unexpected problem (like a dead battery...). Then I'd also try to get my hands on some actual cash Euro, maybe a hundred or so in twenties, just to have handy.

A note in passing, BTW: for reasons that are probably cultural and not so much to do with anti-money laundering measures, larger- denomination Euro notes seem way less commonplace here than they are in other European countries. There are even places where I've seen a fifty cause comment. So over time I've gotten in the habit, if taking a cab for example, of asking whether the driver or whatever is able to break a fifty. Lately it's seemed like less of an issue than it used to... but I've never seen anyone raise an eyebrow at a twenty. :)

Anyway: hope this helps!

#Dublin #cash use

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 days

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Have you heard? Disney is making another Lion king, but this time, it's a prequel, and it's going to be about Mufasa's backstory. Which i think it's very interesting. i'm open to seeing how they're going to show/represent the movie. Even though it's coming out of nowhere? A prequel after all these years?

I've also seen a lot of criticism about the movie, even though it's not even out yet. A lot of fans are disappointed that Mufasa and Scar/Taka (interesting how they're using "Taka" instead of "Scar") are no longer blood related brothers, but instead, both are orphans which doesn't make much sense since in the original Lion king Mufasa comes from a lineage of royalty and gives Simba a speech talking about “great kings” and “let me tell you what my father told me” I'm open to new ideas and stuff but i don't know how to feel about it. Maybe it’s the nostalgia? This honestly feels like a cheap cash grab, and seeing how Disney has had quality control issues lately, it's either going to be a flop or not.

I'm just HOPING that they're NOT going down the "misunderstood villain arc" because I've had enough of it. if they’re going for the "Mufasa was adopted and usurper who took Scar's rightful place at the throne! Showing that Scar was right all along."

What do you think?

Oh, I’ve heard of it! I’m not that interested in watching though. I’ll probably just wait for it to come out while praying that TWST gives us free stuff in a promotional campaign and listen to some commentary or review channels give their takes.

According to Wikipedia, Mufasa: The Lion King is supposed to be a sequel to the 2019 live action adaptation, not the original 1994 animated film. The prequel film was confirmed in September of 2020, which isn’t that long after The Lion King live action movie came out. They’ve been steadily releasing new information about Mufasa, such as voice cast reveals in 2021, 2022, and April 2024. It was officially announced and title dropped in 2022 during the D23 Expo. It’s possible that the film took longer to make due to the pandemic and worker’s strikes that occurred between 2020 and now.

On the Scar/Taka thing, I believe “Taka” (I’ve also seen “Askari” in some sources) is Scar’s given name and “Scar” is a nickname Mufasa gave him following an incident in which Taka was as tricked and attacked by other animals, which was the origin of his scar. This information comes from The Lion Guard (a series I haven’t watched myself; this is what I was told by a friend who has). If Scar is being called “Taka” in Mufasa (and assuming The Lion Guard is canon), then that means Mufasa must take place prior to the brothers’ relationship souring and him getting his signature scar.

I watched the trailer and… the phrasing is quite odd??? Now Mufasa is “a lion born without a drop of nobility in his blood”. That implies he and Scar aren’t blood-related. In real life, that makes sense since it’s usually the strongest lion that leads the pack rather than the eldest. Scar has a line where he says Mufasa got the brawn whereas he got the brains, so it sort of supports this idea. However, making it so that Mufasa and Scar are unrelated orphans within the Lion King universe doesn’t make sense if you hold that up next to the already established lore. They imply multiple times that Scar lost his claim to the throne when Simba, Mufasa’s blood-related son, was born to succeed him. So royal blood of the king is important??? The only way Scar could take over was to eliminate those in Mufasa’s lineage. It’s possible that Mufasa’s speech to Simba about the “great kings” and his own father could be in reverence or to show love for his adopted dad or pack…? But that makes those scenes a lot less impactful. Additionally, part of the reason why Scar’s actions are so evil is because he committed fratricide. He turned against his own blood brother, then manipulated his nephew, whom he also shares blood with, into taking the blame. There’s something very visceral and cold-blooded about that—plus it adds to the Hamlet parallels.

Seeing as Mufasa is the titular character, I don’t think they’ll go down the route of intentionally making him the bad guy to Scar. Disney’s so shy about making its main characters morally grey or just bad people… though like you said, they might do it unintentionally because by writing Mufasa as an orphan, that means he’s an illegitimate ruler… meaning Simba is an illegitimate heir… meaning Scar killed/deceived those with no claim to the throne, so actually Scar was not in the wrong at all 💀 But technically it wouldn’t be Scar’s right to rule anyway because he’s not of royal blood either (since you said he's apparently also an orphan? I did not see this mentioned in the trailer though)??? Unless Scar is the one from a royal lineage and everyone else is just dead???

I think it’s still possible that we get something tragic between the two; blood does not determine everything. Mufasa and Taka could form a genuine brotherly bond that later falls apart. It doesn’t really make up for the retconning of current lore, but who knows 😂 maybe they’ll pull some of their old magic out and actually write a story that makes sense to lead into The Lion King. I’m not going to hold my breath though, the live action movies have never been that good to me 💦 I’m going to let the movie come out and speak for itself before I make any real judgments on its quality, as I don’t believe in jumping the gun (even given previous track records).

I wonder what this new movie’s lore would mean for TWST… Since Tamashina Mina was very inspired by The Lion Guard, that means (depending on how the film goes) Mufasa’s events could be retroactively integrated into TWST history?? It’s not a guarantee, but just something to consider.

#notes from the writing raven #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #The Lion King #The Lion Guard #Mufasa: The Lion King #Simba #Scar #Mufasa #question #Hamlet

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kursedmayo · 12 hours

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This is gonna be a a bit of a controversial take but to me Farcille to me is not very appealing since Falin and Marcille's relationship is a bit too complex to be boxed into a simple ship. There's both gay, platonic and familial implications and I don't think I've seen this type of relationship in media before actually.

In the Anime they really went all in on the yuri domtext- I refuse to call it subtext because its not, in fact sub (jk) but in the manga it's a bit more ambigious. In both media though they're portrayed as close, like way too close just to be friends. I think this might have to do with initial impressions, Marcille treating Falin like a little sister while Falin treats Marcille more like friend.

If you've read the Manga there was an implication that at some point Marcille wanted a younger sibling, but apparently she ended up being the youngest and the last child (if my memory serves correct). When she met Falin, she was a bit shy, tomboy-ish, and seemingly carefree when they met, which can sometimes be perceived as someone being pretty childish. Because of that, in her mind Marcille may have somewhat adopted the idea that Falin is younger than her and such, and then her subconscious childhood desires made her think of Falin as a little sister. I myself less receptive to receiving or initiating touch with my brothers since I'm comfortable with them, so I can see why they're comfortable being physically close often.

This may also be why she dislikes Toshiro (Shuro) so much, she was particularly defensive of her little sister. I kinda doubt Falin discussed ever wanting to get into a relationship so maybe Marcille wanted to beat back unwanted suitors? At the same time this may just be her being jealous and not wanting to let Falin go, which can be interpreted to be something due to romantic feelings for Falin.

Meanwhile, when Falin met Marcille her impression was that she was a cool academic girl that took interest in her and befriended her. Marcille is most likely her first friend at that point and quickly became her best friend. She clearly admires Marcille and good LORD have you seen that bath house scene?? It was much less yurified in the Manga since Marcille was clearlu tired from using ancient magic and was having delayed reactions but I really dont think that was sisterly in any shape or form, it seems far too intimate. Keep in mind she was the one who initiated the hand locking in the bath house, not Marcille, so that may imply sometjing. So this brings me to my final conclusions.

Marcille probably thinks of Falin like a little sister or at least perceives Falin as someone younger than her that she wants to take care of. At the same time though her relationship with Falin is also hard to define completely by familiar or platonic because Laois is literally there for comparison and their relationships don't seem very similar to me.

On the other hand, Falin most likely sees Marcille as her best friend, someone either her equal or greater in skill or talent. When she has a slightly embarassing problem (like her constant flushed cheeks) she wants help with, she trusted Marcille enough to go straight to her instead of figuring it out herself so that says quite a lot, considering Falin seems to be of the independent type and don't like bothering people. However, there are also some odd vibes regarding her behavior with Marcille that prevents me from also waving Farcille off, so again I hesitate to box their relationship nearly into a single category.

So yeah. No hate to Farcille but I think I'd rather label these two weirdos with "???" instead of just friends, sisters or girlfriends. It feels a bit more accurate that way.

#text #kursed rambles #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #falin touden #marcille donato #farcille #might edit later

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beesmygod · 2 days

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@ the other anon: sure, on a biological scale, everyone is unique and special. but on a societal level, a larger scale? we're all specks of dust. exceptionalism, the belief that individuals are all uniquely special, is inherently a kinda selfish mindset. it erases the commonalities between us, turns us all into isolated aliens, disparate from one another. it creates ego: if I am special, and everyone else is special but in different ways than me, then I must be more special than others, and if I am more special, then why should I help? why should I support others? why should I be inconvenienced for the sake of someone special-but-different than myself???

I am one of the billions of people on this planet. everyone in the world is just like me. there is no unique talents or perspectives that I possess that could not be perfectly replicated or reached by any number of other people, currently, or in the past or future. and that connects me to the world. I am a single blade of grass in a field, indistinguishable from the thousands and millions beside me. I have more in common with every unspecial person on this planet than I possibly could with a universe of uniquities. and it drives me to help, to support, to want to protect people, because we're all in this together, and it isn't special to care for others. my life isn't worth any more or less than anyone else's, not even my enemies, not even people who have done heinous crimes.

I'm just an ape on a rock orbiting a giant nuclear reactor hurtling through space. and the stars will not weep for me someday, just like they did not weep for my mother or my grandmother or anyone else, just like they don't weep for ants or beetles or blades of grass. because when I'm gone, there will still be others just like myself. apes on a rock.

yeah, this. more like this. i am not special and its comforting. my suffering is not unique and others have weathered it, my successes follow in a long line of dubs for the human race.

the point of life isnt to be special, its to have a good time. we should facilitate that by helping each other out. its a short turn on the planet after all

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lazyyogi · 1 day

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How do you gain self control? Or would it be self discipline? I’ve been struggling with my weight for quite some time now, and I always end up going back to bad eating habits. And how/where do I find motivation? Thank you for your time, namaste.

I don't like the concept of motivation and I don't feel it's very empowering or helpful. When someone wants to do something but they can't bring themselves to do it, we'll say they lack some abstract concept of motivation. It's a very crude perspective with no real insight. Not only are you stuck but you also feel like you are lacking something.

So I'm here to tell you that you are not lacking motivation, or anything at all. The fact that you want to make a change is motivation enough. You're good on the motivation front.

So what's the problem? Resistance. Identify and address all the ways in which you are resisting. Once those obstacles are removed, you're free to move forward. Take exercising for example.

When I wanted to begin exercising regularly, I found it difficult to maintain consistency. I wondered what was wrong with me, that I couldn't muster even a fraction of the motivation that others seem to have. So I examined my behavior and routines. And what I found was interesting.

Firstly, because of my schedule, I knew the only time I had to exercise was when I came home from work. And I realized that if the first thing I did after coming home was anything other than exercising, it became a lot more difficult to then make the decision to exercise.

Secondly, I found that if I hadn't eaten well that day or slept well the night before, I often didn't have the energy to exercise.

Thirdly, if I had to leave my apartment to go somewhere to exercise, there were more opportunities for excuses to skip going.

Fourthly, if I paired my exercise routine with my daily meditation session, I became more consistent both with exercising daily and also meditating daily. Exercising before meditation made me feel more relaxed and focused for the meditation.

And lastly, if I had some particular result I wanted (like muscle abs or bigger biceps or whatever), then my own impatience to see those results made me feel like my efforts were fruitless and useless. This detracted from my enthusiasm to exercise and made me less likely to do so.

Using these observations, I made some changes.

I made a rule that the first thing I would do after getting home from work is exercise and then meditate. I would be extra mindful of not skipping meals at work and making sure I got a decent amount of sleep when possible. I researched and found solid exercise options that could be done from home. And, perhaps most importantly, I emphasized and relished the way my exercise regimen made me feel rather than my physical appearance.

With these changes, I maintained a more empowering attitude and a more consistent pattern in my exercise routine while also enjoying its benefits--more energy, better mood, etc.

However, there were plenty of times that I faltered. After going on vacation for a week, getting sick, or just being too busy, it could be difficult to get back into the rhythm. The way I handled this is by viewing exercise in a way similar to how I view brushing my teeth.

I don't ask myself if I feel like brushing my teeth. It's something I've just accepted as part of human body maintenance. In other words, I regard it as inevitable. That way, the question isn't how to summon the motivation to do something. It's about circumventing whatever forms of resistance we encounter and then surrendering to the inevitability of our practice.

It's also important not to judge and scold yourself for your lapses. Otherwise that makes it all the more difficult to get back into your rhythm. You need to be willing to begin at the beginning, again and again, over and over, day after day. If you're willing to do that, to be a beginner, then no amount of lapsing back into obsolete habits matters. They're just temporary disruptions from which you will inevitably move on.

I think you will find that a lot of this applies to any kind of lifestyle changes we wish to make, including eating. I'm sure there are more specific tips and tricks for dietary modification as well, I'm just no expert on that.

Finally, I do think that daily meditation will be an immense benefit for you. It is a practice that equips us with the ability to experience and process all kind of feelings and emotions--including cravings, desires, and fears.

I hope this helped. Much love!

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gutterfuuck · 14 hours

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bro bro hear me out

you’re like the only mark writer out there so i NEED THIS TO HAPPEN PLS.

frat boy mark x sorority girl reader.

PLLLLLEAAAAAAAASEEEEEEEEEEE.

enough — !

this idea was so good, i had to start writing before i lost my mind and forgot!! you are such genius. this is probably a little off topic(?) as what you were thinking!! sorry if it is not what you expected, however, i will be using this idea in future so if you do not enjoy this, i will be writing another that is more enjoyable to you!! (with credit to you of course as the original anon!!) the frat name is an abbreviation because i couldn’t come up with one 😭😭

cw: reader is like 2 years older than mark? idk they’re both in their 20s, no superheroes/abilities au!!, william is in here for a bit i love william #williamforpresident2024, alcohol, typical college frat/sorority type parties, the start is quite long sorry i got carried away 😭, dubcon(?), reader is a bitch lowkey, mark gets mean, smut, headlock, piv, degradation, mark gets really mean ouh, creampie hehe, typical sparkie fic it’s evil and hiding under your bed like the babadook or something, aftercare at the end cuz i got soft

a/n: i was supposed to release this yesterday night though have had to edit and spellcheck this myself!! i am quite proud as this is probably the longest fic i have written without any editing from my friend!! if you notice small mistakes no you didn’t

he’s had it with you.

it’s only been a few months since he’s started college and he’s already way behind everyone else. you didn’t have a care in the world, you’d already completed college!! yet you still stay in your old dorm room, bunking with someone who had gotten lucky and left without a roommate, you payed whatever rent you felt like. you just enjoyed the college scenery, the lifestyle, you never wanted it to end… most of all, you loved your sorority. you were well aware that you might’ve looked a little bit like a loser, still hanging out with the sorority with ever changing members. you didn’t care, you were practically in charge, their leader - the queen bee. and that’s what got on his nerves.

you see, you’ve been handed life on a silver platter. a sweet 16th birthday party with a car bought just for you, spoiled absolutely rotten. mark couldn’t really talk, but at least his family came from humble beginnings, you’ve always had your money and status. you’ve always gotten what you want, even if you had to play the long game. the long, hard, boring game... which people could only stand for five minutes or less, what with your constant whining sounds and your foot stomping on the ground, pouting with your arms crossed over your chest. whatever you wanted, people just gave to you. handed themselves on a silver platter… not him. never him.

mark had a love-hate relationship with you. on one hand, you were hot, stunning… he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about you some nights, just like the other guys he hung around with.. on the other hand, you were nothing but a spoiled brat. he remembered the first time you’d come bolting at him as he stood at the doorstep of your sorority house, confusing it with the other one he’d supposed to have showed up at on his first day. you threw your arms around him as your head pounded from last night’s heavy drinking, your only sober thought being “i hope the other girls don’t get to him first.”

“fresh meat huhhh… i *hic* always like the newer ones… you like to party..?” you ask, swaying around with your arm around his like you’d known him for years let alone five seconds. mark tensed, expression shifting to slight annoyance as you almost crumpled over, dragging you back up by your shoulder gently. “no. do you know where house 242 is?” you pout at him, wavy finger pressing to his cheek and wobbling a line down his face before he smacked your hand away, tutting at you and looking around the front porch of your sorority house. bingo. mark shook you away, trudging towards the folded up lawn chair he had spotted, bringing it back and unfolding it for you. you’d annoyed him, sure, but his mother had taught him to be nice to girls.

actually, he pitied you. mark thought he could read between the lines, thought you being drunk at 11am on a wednesday morning must’ve been because you were hurting about something, someone, someplace… debbie’s words before she dropped him off in the car two days prior played in his head, ‘you never know what people could be going through, so be kind.’ as much as you’d bothered him so far, he was still inclined to make sure you were at least sat down to minimize risking an injury. you flopped down into the chair, groaning when you bumped your spine against the metal frame of it, tilting your head back to look up at him. he stared down at you with tired brown eyes, stoic expression not registering to you in your drunken state. at least you were pretty.

he clears his throat before he talks again, unfolding a piece of paper from his pocket, “house 242. do you know how to get there?” your eyes widen, mouth falling open with an excited gasp, “shut up! you are not in OOA!” you slur loudly, attempting to get up from your seat but dropping back into it as your socked feet slipped on the grassy ground below. mark gave a sideways smile and nodded slowly, he hadn’t been given the frat name yet, only the house number. mark didn’t want to have to walk around campus with a drunk sorority girl, you were only dressed in a night dress and a loose jacket, people would get the wrong idea! but, if he had no choice (and he didn’t really feel like walking around campus and looking for the house for the third time today) he’d have to have you as his temporary guide of sorts. this was so embarrassing, he really hoped nobody would think of him as a scumbag.

after watching you flap your arms and get all excited about his frat, you wobble towards the house, rushing to put on a pair of shorts and a tank top, slipping your feet into your fluffy pink slippers, a staple. because of you, no other girls apart from your sorority would wear pink shoes around campus. and you wondered why people had branded you, and your little minions who wanted to be like you, as a bully of sorts. actually, if you thought for more than twenty seconds about it, you’d know people’d rather stay on your good side: you were rich, pretty, stole people’s boyfriends on the regular, confronted those who you thought were competition and you were allowed to basically do as you wanted. because daddykins’ best friends with the dean and the dean makes wayyyy less than your dear old dad and your father bends over backwards for you so if you wanted to waste your degree you fucked and paid yourself to, then you absolutely could.

when you both start walking, you attempt to interlock your arm with his, twisting your face up in disbelief when he rejected your advances. nobody had ever, ever, in the history of ever, done that to you. you want to stamp your foot on the ground but you resist, awkwardly crossing your arms over your chest. maybe he was just shy, you’d met guys like this before. new, shy, never had a pretty girl at his side like this… you got it, you really did. you’d take this as a loss, you’d soften him down later, OOA liked to party and you hadn’t seen a new member who hadn’t drank on their first night yet. you’d know, you’d been doing this same routine for almost three years. fresh meat, lost little lamb, needs the drunk pretty girl’s help ‘cause OOA was pretty hidden away, slipping your arm into theirs to tease them, walking them to their new hangout… coming back before seven on the evening and flirting your way into the new guy’s pants, blocking them when they try to contact you before moving on to the next one… one step had already gone south in your plan. you’d take it on the chin this time. he was cute and you’d already claimed him as yours, the other girls would know as soon as they saw him.

the path you both walked on faded into the concrete, a grassy path appearing as you spotted some guys outside of the house, a keg of beer already being set up this early in the day. mark thought maybe he’d made a mistake jointing the same frat his father had during his own college days, the promise of the frat being quite calm and collected faded away from almost three decades ago, the newer generation of young adults poisoning the good name his father had gone on and on about. sure, nolan had drank during his college years but parties and alcohol were never kept at OOA.

you see, mark wasn’t the average frat guy type: not loud, not obnoxious, actually wanted to learn and grow from his college experience and make some new friends. good friends, not meatheads who didn’t know their asses from their elbows. he hoped at least one person in that house was capable, sighing quietly to himself as he unenthusiastically approached the house with you. a guy waved at you, you waved back with a giggle as another set his drink down, announcing to the other guys that “y/n was here”. oh, so you were just a slut then. you don’t know what people could be going through, so be nice. he rolled his eyes internally, feeling slightly guilty with his thoughts as a red plastic cup is thrust into his chest by someone he’d found familiar, looking up to meet william’s eyes, his stone face cracking into a smile. he hadn’t even noticed the way you’d slipped away from him, chatting with some guy who stood shirtless with a concoction of different liquors that made him blink too slowly, constantly shifting from foot to foot to maintain his balance.

“what happened to not wanting to join us?” his friend asks as mark takes the cup into his hand, smelling the contents of the drink before he decides not to put it to his lips. it was way too early to day drink, he hadn’t even put his backpack down yet, “changed my mind, dad was on my ass about it, i just didn’t want the headache when i go visit.” he shrugged, eyes wondering over to you, watching as you let that guy hug you from behind, a strange feeling bubbling up in his gut. he wasn’t sure if he felt shame or disappointment that you hadn’t stayed with him, no longer worried about how weird it would have looked to walk around with you intoxicated. he looks away before your eyes meet his again, attention shifting back to william and whatever he had been babbling on about before he’d started daydreaming. “…and that’s why- mark? are you listening?” william snapped his fingers at him, shaking him out of his absent looking gaze. william looks behind him, in the direction mark had been staring in, slowly nodding his head with an eyebrow lifted when he looks back at mark again, “oh, right. i get it.” he smirks, mark’s red tinted cheeks being confirmation. “shut up, she only bought me here ‘cause you weren’t answering your texts.” he retorts, shaking his head when william gives him a knowing look.

that was the first day he’d met you. mark didn’t go to the party that night, much to your disappointment. instead, you spent the night in the lap of one of the jocks you’d settled on as a compromise, swigging back shots of vodka and rejecting his advances. he had a tiny cock anyway, you’d seen it before when one of the girls in your sorority received a picture of his dick and squealed about how gross the foreskin looked. you weren’t gonna fuck this guy, partly because you didn’t feel like it and partly because you were disappointed that you hadn’t gotten to see more of mark. you’d see him around campus, catch him staring at you outside sometimes. every interaction was short lived, always being shut down by him. hard to get was by far your least favourite game and there was no way mark would be able to resist someone like you! this had to be the twilight zone or something.

you’d tried everything at this point, low cut shirts with short skirts that exposed the bottom of your butt, shorts that should class as panties with how they barely classed as shorts, bikinis, standing outside his frat house while he was in it and being sprayed by beer in a wet t shirt contest, the works!! you had never been so offended, he just acted as if he didn’t even see you! it’s been four months now, four months of being basically celibate due to your petty “if he cant take me, nobody will have me” mentality. god, you were acting desperate. it embarrassed you, you hated working hard for things that should come as easy as one, two and three. while you thought your attention seeking streak was getting you nowhere, mark’s brain was going into overdrive.

“i just don’t get why you’re so… worked up about it.” william says as he sips from his mug that held coffee - the irish kind since he had a migraine from yesterday’s party and felt the only way to recover was to drink more - sitting with his leg crossed over the other on the sofa with mark who typed away on his laptop, “worked up? worked up?” mark repeated, never looking up from his screen, “come on. i’m sure she didn’t mean it-“ william began, sentence cut short by mark slamming his laptop down, getting up from the couch to put it on the kitchen isle, eyebrows furrowed. he was talking about how you’d ‘accidentally’ taken his jacket instead of yours and when he’d asked for it the morning after, you’d sent one of your sorority minions outside to tell him that they had no clue where the jacket or you was- only to see you walking around campus in it like it belonged to you a minute later, returning to the sorority house with drinks in a little black plastic bag. he had to walk back in the rain, his shirt soaked and blood boiling. yes, the jacket wasn’t a big deal. what william didn’t know was that he was mad because for the last few weeks, you’d been at the parties he’d been at. not only that but you’d always have a different guy all over you, always looking over to him, almost like you were doing it on purpose.

“yeah sure, i’m sure she didn’t mean to spill her drink all over me last week and steal my jacket yesterday, y’know, the one i needed to get home in the rain… oh, i’m sure she didn’t mean to break the fucking tv- the only one we have, when she came over for beer-pong.” mark spits back, pinching the space between his eyes with his index and thumb. william rolls his eyes, sipping away at his coffee without a care in the world. “and i’m sure she didn’t mean to make me miss nearly all of my classes.” he finishes, which makes william turn his head towards him with a smile, “oh, i’m sure y/n physically kept you from going to class.” william tuts, standing up and walking out of the room, “last time i checked, she doesn’t even go here…!” he said as he walked off, refusing to argue with mark. william was right, you hadn’t stopped him from attending classes. he’d just become a little obsessed maybe, wanted to keep an eye on you just in case. mark could only think back to the first day he’d met you, how you’d been drunk from before noon and how you looked like you needed help, how his mother’s words buzzed around in his head… he still hung onto that, taking himself up as your personal guardian angel without your knowledge.

you open your phone when you leave the shower, whatever music that had been playing through it stopping as you pressed pause to focus on the words on your screen:

william🤞

prty @ 242 6pm. bring back his jacket 🙄

you tilt your head slightly before you remember what he’s talking about. you dry your hands, opening your phone to respond,

y/n

omw ❤️

is all you type, not bothering to look at the notification that made your phone buzz before you rush to your little vanity, ready to doll yourself up for the evening and throw on some clothes, pairing them with the jacket you’d now have to return. you get an influx of messages on your phone suddenly, the group chat of the girls in your sorority letting you know that they’d also be attending, emojis and gifs and reaction images galore as you scroll through your phone. the girls wanted to go colour coordinated, all in the same pink miniskirts and black tank tops. you, however, wore a black miniskirt with a pink tank top, just to differentiate yourself from the rest of your hive. you didn’t remember exactly when you’d gotten william’s number but he was useful at times. plus, you thought he was pretty fun to hang around with! that, and the fact that he was mark’s best friend.

when you get to the OOA house music is already blaring and some of the boys are already sat out on the porch, some members of your sorority had shown up a few minutes prior. probably the new girls, you think, knowing the other girls wouldn’t make a mistake as grave as showing up earlier than you. for once, you’re gonna let it go. you were in a good mood today, felt like you were finally going to get your hands all over that slippery prick. you didn’t know why you had your sights set on him, you could be with literally anyone else. you told yourself it was pride, he’d offended you by rejecting you. pretty girls never knew when to quit, especially the rich and spoiled ones like yourself. you made heads turn towards you, as per usual. compliments flooded into your ears, dry “thank you”’s and “aww you’re so cute”’s leaving your mouth, hiding the scowl you had plastered under your perfect demeanour.

you scanned the room, looking for one person in particular, pushing away drinks that had been offered to you before you decided to just give up, plopping yourself down on the same sofa mark had been typing his essay on hours prior, finally giving in when william approaches you, swaying a little as he walked, already wasted by the looks of it. you put on a fake smile, trying to stop yourself from having a full on temper tantrum over not being able to find the guy you’d gotten all dressed up for, wearing his jacket, having no fun at the party his sorority house was throwing. william opens his mouth before closing it again like a fish, trying to find his words, “y-you came..!” he speaks loudly, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of you, already littered with other people’s drinks as he throws his arms around you in a hug, “duh, it’s not a party til i’m here.” you say, your friendly tone threatening to falter as you looked down at your nails, observing them as if they had better things going on. you return his drunken embrace, giggling when he accidentally spills his drink on himself.

“you bought it, good..! you wouldn’t believe his b-..b-bitching- earlier-“ he covers his mouth with his hand to stop himself from burping at the last part of his sentence, gesturing towards the jacket you had draped over your shoulders to which you nod and smile, patience wearing thin. if william was here then where the fuck was mark? you wanted to ask him where the rest of him was, though didn’t think he’d understand as fast in his drunken state. tipsy wasn’t even the word. “it just looked so similar to mine, ha!” you lied, finally taking one of the empty cups out of the plastic sleeve and helping yourself to the bottle of vodka that stood in the middle, pouring orange juice straight into it afterwards to try and mask the sharp taste. william laughs, you drink.

“actually- he’s upstairs. studying or whate-ever.” william points to the ceiling, brushing some of his hair out of his face, “i can go give it to him if you like-“ and just like his conversation with mark earlier, he’s cut off short again by you springing up with a no, forgetting about your drink as it spilled over the rim, the whole thing splashing over your shirt. you gasp and squeak, william tries to stifle a loud laugh that would’ve bought all of the attention to you. even while drunk he knew not to put his reputation on the line, and his reputation he did kind of value. nobody wanted to draw unnecessary attention to you, the last person who had done that had been trashed so badly they had to move out of the state after a few months of non stop rumours. you sigh, defeated as you pick up someone’s jumper - they shouldn’t have left it out in the first place if they didn’t want you to use it as a cloth - and trying to soak all of the alcohol out of the black fabric. “bathroom upstairs- mark’s in the room to the r-right— ugh, i’m gonna throw up,” william says as he retches, cheeks puffing out before he takes his leave, sprinting into the back garden to puke in a plant pot. a few more compliments, you’re flirted with by a guy for like five minutes, you take a few more swigs of someone else’s drink and you’re headed upstairs, looking for the bathroom and hoping nobody had started fucking in there so you could act out your ever developing plan.

your eyes lit up when you successfully pushed the door and it wasn’t locked, closing it behind you and twisting the latch so nobody would intrude on you. lifting your shirt over your head, you’re careful to not let the fabric ruin your makeup. the next thing that’s discarded is your bra, winking at yourself in the mirror and jiggling your boobs experimentally, making sure your girls looked their best. you then put mark’s jacket on, sleeves coming past your hands as the hem just barely missed your knees. you didn’t hang out or interact with him often, you never get the chance and it’s frustrating, but you’re reminded of the potential size difference between you and him when you put on his jacket. showtime. if this didn’t get you laid tonight, you’d have to get a new name and move out of the COUNTRY out of embarrassment of coming off as desperate. to the right, a door that had large posters on the surface, some stickers peeled away and faded from years of being piled up on the door. a sock on the handle. no fucking way.

this had never happened before. nobody had ever wanted to fuck someone else before sticking it in you. you wanted to scream, rip your hair out and stomp your feet until you fell through the fucking ceiling. this wasn’t fucking happening, the boy you’d had your eyes on was not fucking another girl in this room. you saw red, the reality of not getting your way this time hitting you hard, your hand flying to the handle to twist it open, ready to have a cat fight if necessary. you felt like a steaming bull, felt like steam was coming out of your nose and ears cartoonishly. you didn’t even know what you were gonna do when you saw him and whoever the fuck that stupid bitch was, all you knew was that you hadn’t gotten what you wanted and it was time to let everyone know that.

you’re ready to bite his head off, both of them, blind rage taking over before you lay your eyes on the sight in front of you. he sat with his legs open, pants at his ankles with his head thrown back momentarily, hand going up and down between his thighs with his other hand holding up his shirt before he’s shuffling to cover himself, wide eyed and cursing with his cute face all beet red. “o-out..! get out-!” he stutters, voice cracking as he rushes to close the door, traping you behind it again. you’re stunned, never seen anything so… erotic before. you wished he wore shorts, the way his toned thighs flinched and tensed made you want to slide yourself up and down them, the small snippet of his abs you wished you’d had a longer look at before being blocked from entering… why’d he hide his body away for so long you’d never know. oh how you wished you’d seen his dick, imagining it made your mouth water. you shake your head, clearing your mind to prevent it from clouding with thoughts of lust, you couldn’t have your pussy leaking just yet. were you really so desperate for dick that you’d get wet without even seeing it? just the mental image of him, lip tugged between his teeth, pleasured expression barely visible? get your act together, you thought, breathing heavily before steadying yourself, standing up straight and knocking on his door.

“maaaarrrrkk…” you whine loudly, fist slamming against the posters, “i didn’t see anything, i swear..! but… i also won’t tell anyone if you let me in.” you offer teasingly, smiling wide when you heard a loud groan from the other side, followed by loud footsteps, followed by the door swinging open, mark avoiding your gaze with gritted teeth. he also wasn’t stupid, also had a reputation to keep squeaky clean. he’d had enough of you. for real, this time. he had enough of how you were the bitch who could make or break him if he ever slighted you in any way, had enough of the way you taunted him from afar, had enough of your complete and utter rudeness - who the hell even barges in when there’s a sock on the door? - he’d just had enough. he stood there, arms crossed as you took in your surroundings, blue and yellow scheme familiar to the clothes he wore... then it hit you, this was mark’s room. it wasn’t weird to have people living at a frat house, some people owned them. you wondered how he felt having to listen to music and people yelling and drinking all night, though that thought was quickly brushed away by mark’s voice,

“that’s mine.” he says bluntly, cheeks still pink as he points to his jacket that you wore, still standing at the door like some sort of bouncer. you nod, closing the door behind you and ignoring his words, “nice room y’got… seance dog? how old are you?” you joke, helping yourself to the shelf where stacked comic books stood, picking one up and flicking through it. mark walked towards you, snatching it out of your hands and putting it back, “again, that’s mine. i want my jacket back, y/n. then you should leave.” he spoke matter-of-factly, glaring at you for a second as you rolled your eyes, sitting on his bed and making yourself at home. “ugh, you’re still mad about it? i’m sorry we have the same jacket. i was drunk! fuck, man.” you shoot a glare back, yours with a grin. he’s had enough. he was at his boiling point, red hot rage was about to start bubbling over and you were the person he didn’t really want to take it out on. “y/n, i’m not gonna tell you again.” he warns, scowling at you as he approaches, fists balled up into his hands. this was probably the part of him people could most see his father in, his expression when he got angry. it didn’t scare you, it made you want to tease him more. so he thought he could intimidate you? he had another thing coming.

“you can’t make me. i’ll scream, you want everyone to come rushing up here?” you wouldn’t, you were only teasing. like a bolt of lightning, he’s tugging the zip of his jacket down, attempting to take it off of you and kick you out himself. you grabbed onto the zipper, trying to block his hands away from zipping it down any further, “taking back my shit and you can get the fuck out of here-“ he muttered, ignoring your sounds of protest, “mark— stop it, i’ll go i just-“ he doesn’t care, he’s trying to force your hands away, slapping at them and trying to restrain them to your sides, “shut up, shut the fuck up, give me back my fucking jacket, now—! you’re a liar, your jacket is hot-fucking-pink!” he’s more violent, grabbing the front and damn near shaking you around, your legs trying to kick him away, “m-mark, please-! stop, stop it!” there’s almost tears in your ears as you try to fight him off, remembering how you’d taken off your shirt and left it in the bathroom, with your bra.

mark couldn’t care less about his jacket or if it would be ruined, it was about the principle. more pulling, more trying to hold your hands away, more grabbing the jacket and trying to pull it off before— schzzzzt. fuck. the zipper popped, your protests stopped and mark’s huffs calmed down, eyes settling on your bare chest. tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him, not expecting to have his eyes meet yours. he looks pissed, he’s had enough of you. right now, mark didn’t give a shit about what you were going through, didn’t care about being nice. you’d tipped him over, now he’s really annoyed with you. “mark,” you shuffle away, jumping with a surprised gasp when you feel his hands wrap around your ankles and pull you back to your place, the action making your skirt and his duvet catch on each other, hiking your skirt up to expose your underwear. it was like he wasn’t even looking at your body, keeping his eyes on yours at all times. you open your mouth again and his hand flies to your face, covering your mouth to prevent you from talking at all. now you’re scared, now you’re intimidated. so scared, yet your stomach flipped and your cunt fluttered around nothing when he silenced you with his palm.

“shut up, you bitch.” he snarled, tightening his grip on your face by pushing your cheeks together. it almost hurt, almost. mark shook his head, “what’s wrong with you? you wanna make me mad? for fucks sake—“ his words make your clit throb, your thighs slowly shifting to meet each other so you could move your hips around and get yourself off a little. this was hot, mark was serious. “you’re gonna scream? what the fuck, y/n, what the fuck is your problem!?” you’re wet. fuck, you’re wet and you’re being yelled at. this was the shit you’d see in porn, but for real. no acting, just a coincidence. when he lets you go to get off of you, he finally lets himself catch a glimpse of the wet spot that’s forming in your panties. he should’ve never looked, now he’s caught a sneak of your tits. the noise he makes is halfway between a groan and a sarcastic chuckle, pushing his hair back with the same hand he used to cover your mouth, “now you’re gonna go and leak all over my bed? after trying to go through my stuff?” mark can’t ignore the way his cock strains in his pants, the way it twitches as he glances over you again. any normal person would’ve ran out of his room, trying to cover themselves with the broken jacket and probably never speak to him again. then again, you weren’t a normal person, you were rich. hadn’t ever been told no or been scolded like this before or at all for that matter. you were truly stunned, felt like a deer in headlights.

“m’sorry, sorry..” you finally peep, sniffing as tears dripped down your face. he groaned, clearly annoyed by your antics now, “now you’re gonna cry? now you’re crying, you did this. stop crying, they’re not real tears.” he spits and you obey, quickly wiping your face, black streaks of mascara on your hands as well as your face. fuck, you looked gorgeous like this. you clearly wanted it. you didn’t look like you did, if anyone had burst through like you had earlier they’d definitely get the wrong idea - the worst idea - the kind of idea that stops you from getting a job in your desired field in the future if interpreted the wrong way. mark swallowed thickly. “y’gonna scream?” he asks and you shake your head no without even processing the question, looking up at him with big wide eyes.

you’re on your stomach, clawing at the bedsheets and messing up the way he’d made his bed this morning, face being pressed into a pillow by a heavy hand, mark’s hand. he’s thrusting into you, hips crashing violently against yours over and over again, got your legs trapped between his as he’s using you like you’re a toy, his other hand gripping onto the fat of your ass to help the momentum of his thrusts. your moans are muffled, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth and onto his pillow as you kept your head pressed into the soft cotton pillow, taking in his scent. god, he was jabbing right against your cervix and you let out a particularly loud whine which makes the brute above you lean in to you, his chest pressing against your back so he could talk into your ear meanly, “what’s that? i can’t. fucking. understand. you.” he punctuated each word with a sharp jab into your g-spot, your wrists aching from how hard you were grabbing around at the sheets. he knew you hadn’t said anything, just wanted to tease you like you’d teased him. he’d stripped you naked before you were taking his cock so deliciously right now, tearing your panties off and shaking you out of his jacket which laid beside you. now this was worth playing the hard to get game.

“hey, y/n? you wanna scream?” mark said, sweat beading at his temples as he moaned when he felt your gummy walls close in on him with his words. you shake your head, an almost inaudible ‘no’ coming from the pillow before his arm is hooked around your neck, lifting you up. this new position made you arch your back, leaving you in a dreamy daze as your eyes adjusted to the light of the room again after having your head forced down for so long, “i said, you wanna scream?” he repeats, you shake your head, “n-no-! no, m’m-sorry fuck, mark, i’m sorry—!” you squeal, voice hoarse as he tightens his arm, putting you in a headlock and moving his other hand to your stomach to hold you in place. he was moving so fast, his fat dick throbbed and stretched and rubbed against allll the right places. no other boy had fucked you til your head spun, made you feel so defenceless and inferior… you’d never been filled up this good, you’d been choked, sure - but a headlock? your cunt gripped him tightly, vision dotting as your body shook violently in his grasp, his fingers now swiping over your hard little clit, making you try to stifle the loud half scream of his name somehow, biting your lip with your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

“that’s fucking nasty.” he moaned, watching as you sprayed all over his sheets with your body convulsing, hissing when your pussy started to milk him vigorously as you came. he didn’t stop, only let go of you and watched as you thumped onto the bed weakly, trying to lift yourself up before he’s drilling you with his cock again. you’re hardly responsive, body still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, not even noticing how you’d laid in your own release until you blinked a few times, the feeling finally coming back into your body that mark had knocked numb for a second, “p-please-“ you gasped out, hand reaching down to tap at his thigh. he swiped it away, grabbing your wrist and jerking your body back to meet his, obsessed with the way your bodies made smacking sounds when he snapped his pelvis into your rear. “you gonna bother me again after this? look at you, you’re lying in your own mess- oh fuck, keep tightening like that—“ he growls into your ear, balls slapping against your sensitive clit from behind. you couldn’t think, your thoughts being fucked out of your brain with every rough jab to your cervix, words forming and failing to put them together into understandable sentences. he’s just as blissed out, his anger had faded forever ago, replaced by a carnal urge to just fuck, keep plunging himself in and out of your weeping cunt.

you whine when he pulls out with a pop, lines of your slick coating his cockhead and sticking to it before they snapped and dribbled down onto the soaked sheets below you, his hands grabbing your waist so he could flip you onto your back this time, taking you by surprise and finally waking you up out of whatever dreamy daze you’d been in. this is just how you felt earlier but better, you were scared of him sure but you’ve never been so turned on, you’d never had someone defy you before, you asked for a pony when you were younger and threatened a tantrum which got you your pony, your parents would rather give you whatever you wanted instead of saying a simple no. you stare up at him, he stares down at you. call you crazy, maybe you were finally being put in your place, but having someone hover over you like this, possessive and firm, made you feel as if you had no power at all. mark didn’t care about who you were or what you could do to ruin him anymore, especially since he’d already ruined you. mascara streaked down the sides and front of your face which made tracks in your foundation, your lipstick had been smudged from having your face pressed into the pillow for so long and you were pretty sure you were missing an eyelash (which you were; stuck to the bedsheets and twisted and ruined, you’d have to buy another pair).

mark grabs one of your legs with his hands, pulling you close to him as he leaned in, body pushing your knee up to your shoulder albeit a little painfully, eliciting an uncomfortable mewl from you in the process. you felt as if you couldn’t talk, if you opened your mouth you’d die or something. you’d taken mark for a virgin what with the way he awkwardly shuffled his feet when you spoke to him, the way he never picked up on or wanted to pursue your advances. “don’t look at me like that.” he grits, eyebrows furrowing at the way you pouted at him. you hadn’t even noticed but now you’ve made him mad so now he’s pushing into you again, spearing you open on his dick wet with your slick, your expression changing as you raised your brows, eyes squeezed shut with your mouth hanging open like you were trying to catch flies. he moves his hands, hooking them under your knees so he could pull you back and forth against himself, cock throbbing and begging for release when you start tightening again, lewd gasps and moans coming from your spit slicked and ruined lipstick lips. he can’t stand you, can’t stand the way you’re moaning and trying to say his name while having all knowledge knocked out of you over and over again with stabs repeatedly hitting that same sensitive spot with brutal thrusts, hoping your hips didn’t break every time his crashed into yours.

then, a moment of weakness, “am i pretty?” you ask between whines, small and timid like a rabbit. he’s broken out of his current demeanour, tilting his head. mark feared he’d falter, he’d already given you what you wanted by using you like you were nothing but a warm crevice to slide his cock into. you already knew you were pretty, you just needed to hear it from him. needed to hear it from the guy you’d been chasing for months since you’d stumbled upon him, needed to have confirmation that he was attracted to you. his thrusts almost slow down - almost - before he nods, biting his lip to stop the groan that wanted to respond, “y-yeah, pretty..” mark finally mumbles, hips stuttering as the warm coil that tightened in his stomach threatened to snap. you could feel it too, you could feel the way his cock throbbed, the way the head twitched when it pressed against your cervix every time mark canted his hips up into yours, stretching your pussy around him, churning up your insides so they could only think of him. “pretty, really pretty…” he babbles as he tries to keep his thrusts steady, “also p-pretty fucking mean, stupid…” he continues, trying to ignore the way a pleasured shock creeped up his spine and made his legs shake like yours had before.

you were going to cum again, you could feel it. familiar tingles and twinges picking at you before you felt it fully, the mind numbing sensation of an orgasm being fucked out of you again. mark isn’t any better, chasing his own pleasure with his head tilted back steady “hah, hah, hah”’s slipping out of his mouth. working for stuff really was fun sometimes, even if you had to wait a while to get it. you’re lost, back arching up off of the bed with your waist subtly moving in time with his, catching small hazy blinks of him before his face is closer to yours, not even waiting to kiss you. his tongue is bigger than yours, as with the rest of him, completely pushing your tongue away as he kisses into your mouth, muffling both of your sounds as his thrusts became more and more uneven. he’s cumming, hard and fast and with no consideration whether you were on birth control or not, painting your pink walls with his white cum and leaving his mark deep inside you, seeping into your womb with thick globs. you came as soon as he did, dry this time, arms flailing to grab onto his back to anchor yourself. your cunt squeezed around him, trying to milk all of his release into you. you weren’t on the pill but you didn’t care, you could always get that sorted later.

mark didn’t pull out, huffing slightly as he came back to, blinking at your shaking form below him. if it had been porn, he’d feel bad, close the tab and ignore his post nut clarity. this time, even with all of the thoughts in his head telling him that he’d just broken you down, used you like you were disposable, he couldn’t help but feel accomplished. you might’ve won by getting him to fuck you but he’s won the ice cold heart of the mean bitch that’s now laying in her own squirt on his bed, twitching every now and again to show how much you’d enjoyed it. he sighs, shaking his head and pulls out of you, watching for a second as his cum slowly starts to spill out of your aching pussy, ruining his bedsheets even further, “you still here..?” he asks, looking over at you before he’s headed back over to where he’d stripped off all of his clothes, quickly dressing himself back up as he puts his boxers back on, sliding his jeans back up his legs and looking over at your limp body on his bed. you don’t respond with words, only a faint nod, your body still swimming in the warmth that you’d been pushed into by mark. you could feel the way his cum dribbled out of you messily, leaking down your lower half and soaking up the sheets even further.

you’re pulled from your bliss with mark’s words, unexpected and apologetic, “want me to clean you up?” and you melt, nodded with a small ‘uh-huh’ as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him and knocking the sock off in the process. he’d return a moment later, towel in hand with one corner wet with warm water, patting you down gently, stark contrast to how he was just a minute ago. mark wasn’t mean but he’d tried to be nice and nice just wasn’t working for him - wasn’t working for you - so he had to show you how mean he could really be, had to counteract you somehow. you flinched when he started wiping your cunt, hissing when he bumped against your overly sensitive clit with the towel. he muttered a small sorry, drying you up and leaving once more, the sounds of the music from downstairs louder for a second before the door is closed, louder again and then muffled when he comes back with your shirt and bra, tossing it to your side. he avoided your gaze, absently fiddling around with something in the corner of his room, waiting for you to put your clothes back on. you get the memo, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching out for his jacket before you backed away from it, remembering that you’d come here to return the thing.

as you stood up to look around for your underwear and skirt, your thighs twitch as you feel his cum leaking between your legs, trickling down slowly. you could clean up properly later, sliding your panties and the skirt back to where they had left. “look,” he started, turning your attention towards him, “you can have it. just.. bring it back on saturday. there’s another party or something, ask william.” mark turns to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. you perk up as you clasp the strap to your heels back on, legs feeling like jelly as you moved to face him. you nod with a smile, eyes bright and sparkling like he’d just told you you’d won a billion dollars, “saturday, same time?” you ask, walking towards the door and resting your hand on the doorknob. mark hums at you, a silent yes. you take your leave, his broken jacket draped over your shoulders again as you make your way to the front door, ready to leave so you could go back to the dorm room you weren’t supposed to live in and sleep the next few days away. you couldn’t wait to party at house 242 again.

mark watched you walk away from the porch, your hands in his jacket’s pockets, the material swallowing you up to keep you warm. he shook his head, once again pinching the skin between his eyes, grabbing himself a clean towel so he could shower and fall asleep to the music that blared underneath him. mark thought he’d had enough of you.

now, he couldn’t get enough.

#dark blog #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #invincible x reader #invincible smut #fem reader #tw dubcon #sorry if this got slow and boring at the end i need to think of ways to finish my fics better 😭😭

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