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bisexualiteaa · 2 days

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could you write something where cooper is talking the reader through it, but like, super sweetly and lovesick?

Talk Me Through It, Baby

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!! And some domestic fluff)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Established relationship, lingerie, flirting, cursing, reader being all enticing, 🤭 p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, domestic Cooper, irradiated cream pie, fingering, oral, (fem receiving) praise, Cooper talking you through sex and making love to you, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from TV series

AN: the creative juices are flowing people! I’m loving it, thank you all to have given me asks, it has been so much fun getting to write stuff for you guys! I think i may be done posting for today and have a busy rest of the week ahead of me but keep a look out within the coming weeks for those whose asks I have not done yet! I haven’t forgotten you lovelies, I promise ❤️ hope I did your ask justice, Anon! Enjoy some smut and domestic fluff! 🥰🤠

It’s days like these that made you remember just how nice it was to live a domestic life back in the day. No worries of murderers at your doorstep, no worries about food supply running too low, radiation sickness, it was just perfect. You could bake, you could cook whatever you could get your hands on, but the best part? Was when Cooper walked through that door after a long day to see the beautiful smile that would light up your face when you would greet him. You’d come up to him, greet him with a “welcome home, honey!” Followed by a sweet, soft kiss as his hands would fall to your hips once he’d make it through the door of your home in the settlement. You wished it could be like old times, but this was the closest to that that you’d gotten and you were proud of it. You had a nice home that almost was completely patched of all holes, working appliances thanks to the electricity you got going, clean water, food and some furniture to really spruce things up.

It was the activities that transpired after dinner however that left you both the most excited for when we would be home. You smiled cheekily as you returned from the bathroom, sitting against the doorway clad in a nightgown that you had made for yourself from collected fabrics. It was soft and silky, yet slightly see through, adorned by lace cups and lace around the bottom as it flowed out yet also hugged your frame. One where it left very little to the imagination of what lay underneath. “What do you think?” You asked excitedly yet with a sensual calm tone, making Cooper look up at you with a grin. He whistled as his eyes roamed your figure, loving the way it hugged your curves just right and let your pert nipples poke through the lace. “What do I think?” He asked, standing up and walking towards you, meeting you half way as you sauntered into the room. “I think you look like a dream come true, sweet pea” he said, his hands coming to rest on your hips as yours looped around his neck with a smile. “You like it? I made it myself” You asked, knowing by the tent in his briefs and the smirk on his lips that that answer was obvious. “Oh I love it” he said genuinely, trailing his hands along the smooth, silky fabric as he looked down at you with a soft smile before pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed contentedly into it, removing his hat from his head and placing it on your own with a chuckle into the kiss. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were propositionin’ me, little lady” he said, making you grin up at him with that half lidded look of mischief and love in your eyes that he just couldn’t get enough of. “Maybe I am” you answered as your eyes flitted between his and his lips, your hands coming to rest against his chest softly, just enough touch to tease, yet enough to make him chase after you for more. “Then let’s take it for a spin, hmm?” He asked, making you giggle softly before a light gasp left your lips as he leaned down, planting sweet kisses to your neck, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your arms held him tighter, pressing your chest against his as his teeth found all your weak spots, being sure to exploit them to work you up even further and hear those beautiful sounds he loves so much. “Cooper…” you sighed, your head falling back at the feeling of his rough hands running along your body, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. Between kneading the pleasantly soft flesh of your ass, to fondling your breasts, he just couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always look so pretty for me, sugar” he said, making you smile at his heartfelt compliment as he worked at the straps of your hand-tailored nightgown. “I always do my best for you” you replied, making him chuckle. “Don’t need to, you’re perfect as is” he responded, watching as it fell off of you with ease, the fabric pooling at your feet as he kissed you. He felt your hands smooth over his shirt as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the gin and sweet cherries you had with dinner, making him groan. You always tasted so damn sweet, so addictive. Sugar-Bombs be damned, you were 100% of his daily value of sugar and he wouldn’t want it any other way. When he noticed you had nothing on underneath, he couldn’t help but grin. “Look at you, you’re just so damn gorgeous, what’d a bastard like me ever do to get so lucky?” he complimented, making you smile giddily at his continued compliments. “By being you, Mr. Cooper Howard. Wouldn’t want you any other way” you replied, making him give something between a groan and a chuckle as your lips came to his neck. “The bed looks awful empty, what’dya say we change that?” You asked, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed as he chuckled. “I like the way you think, sugar” he replied, watching as you sat down on the bed before him, looking to him expectantly. “C’mon don’t be shy now, tell me what you want” he said, but rather than speak your mind, your hands spoke for you, finding their way to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up to where he’d take it off. He chuckled. “How ‘bout these? Want these off too, sweet pea?” He asked with a grin, knowing the answer before you even shook your head yes to confirm it. “Go on, take ‘em off for me. I know you like it more when I let you do it” he said softly, bringing your dainty small hands to his belt buckle, watching and helping you undo it and the button to his pants before taking a hold of his zipper with your teeth, and bringing it down. He groaned watching you toy with him, his fingers gliding through your hair, scratching your scalp before moving down to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “Eyes up here, darlin’” he teased, a grin on his lips as your pretty little doe eyes squinted with your smile, completely love drunk. He watched as you placed your fingers to his hips, helping pull down his pants and briefs as you looked him in the eyes the entire time. “Good girl, so good at it you ain’t even gotta look” he said, making you bite your lip and giggle as excitement was nearly tearing you apart, but you were being good. Patience was key, he loved drawing things out with you to where you were left absolutely crazy for each other.

“Sit your pretty self back some, let me have my dessert” he said, making a pleasant tingle flow through you straight to your throbbing clit. You did as you were told, scooting back a little and resting back on your hands as you spread your legs for him. “There ya go, nice ‘n wide for me, perfect. Look at you, so pretty for me. ‘f I had film in that old camera I’d snap a picture just to keep around of this sight” he said, making you grin up at him, the look in your eyes full of need as he got down on his knees at the edge of the bed. His lips trailed searing hot kisses up along the insides of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most before placing the most feathered light kiss to your clit. Your hips bucked up involuntarily out of need and anticipation, a moan leaving you before you whined as he lavished the other thigh with kisses. He gave an amused chuckle. “Patience sweetheart, you’re doin’ so good for me. I promise it’ll pay off” he said, trailing back up to your soaking cunt where he’d placed soft, searing kisses to your clit, making your eyes flutter shut once more and your head drop back with a moan. He groaned at your taste, at the way one of your hands rested on his bald head to tell him how good he made you feel. He looked up at you as he let his tongue lull out, running it up your slit to your clit, flicking the tip of it against your sensitive nub. You keened at the sensation, your chest rising and falling drastically with the harsh inhales and exhales of your pants and moans, a small smile turned the corners of your lips as your eyes were shut. “Cooper…” you moaned, and it was music to his ruined ears. “Taste so good sugar, I swear it’s like you’re made of it” he said, placing a playful bite to the inside of one of your gummy thighs, earning a louder, surprised yet pleased moan in response. “Fuck…” you panted, making him chuckle as one of his fingers prodded your entrance, sliding in all the way to the knuckle as his tongue flicked against your clit in a rhythm that had you bucking your hips to meet his mouth. “Feels s’ good, please..” you begged, feeling him curl his finger inside of you to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves. He was going to be the death of you one of these days, you swore it, he was too damn good at this. He watched as you looked down at him, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him eating you like a man starved. He gave a wink at you as your gazes met, smirking into you as he felt you get closer and closer. “That’s the spot, ain’t it sugar? That’s it, doin’ so good for me, I know you’re close. Let go for me honey, I’ve gotchya” he said, keeping that delicious pace with his tongue and fingers rubbing that spot inside, it didn’t take long for you to do just as he asked. With a moan you came on his fingers and his tongue, a low, feral groan leaving his throat and rumbling his chest as you did. “Good girl” he praised, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers. his mouth and chin shining with your slick and his spit. He used his fingers to wipe it off, looking you in the eyes as he sucked on his fingers to remove it, groaning at the taste as he licked his lips clean.

He climbed up on the bed over top of you, leaning down to kiss you which you graciously accepted, unbothered by the taste of you on his lips and tongue. “Ready sweetheart?” He asked, making you shake your head yes at him, enjoying how desperate you were for him. He leaned back to rub his tip through your slit, collecting your slick and mingling with the pre-cum that beaded out from it. “Don’t tease, Coop..” you begged, making him chuckle. “I know, I know, just makin’ sure I don’t hurt ya” he said, before easing his way into your tight cunt. Didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, the stretch always burned at first but subsided into nothing but absolute bliss. “Doin’ so good for me, doin’ okay sweetheart?” He asked once he was fully sheathed inside you, waiting for you to tell him when to move and making sure you weren’t in pain. You looked up at him, that smile that he swore was the brightest thing in the universe eased all his worries. “I’m good, Coop. You can move whenever you’re ready” you said, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you again, starting a soft, slower pace. He didn’t want to fuck you tonight, didn’t want to have sex with you, no. He wanted to make love to you, show you how much he loves you, show you how much he worships the ground you walk on. He wanted to give you everything you ever wanted and more just to see that pretty little smile in return, it’s all he ever asked for. You both moaned into your shared kiss, his one hand holding yours by your head, fingers intertwined with each other as the other rested on your hip. Your free hand roamed along his scarred back, your head tipping back as his thrusts were deep and calculated. You shut your eyes as his lips roamed your neck, once again abusing the sensitive skin to hear your voice sing for him. “Feel so good honey, like you were made for me” he said, making you hum at the thought, you certainly liked to think so. “Maybe I- hah~ was” you said between moans, making him chuckle dryly. “Maybe you were” he said, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, his tongue laving over one of your nipples as his other hand toyed with the other between his thumb and finger. You moaned as your head fell back against the pillows, hair fanning around your head like a halo. You were ethereal, he swore it. His perfect little angel to keep him out of too much trouble, but just naughty enough to keep him on his toes.

“I love you so much, darlin’. Love everything you do for me” he said, making you smile warmly. “I love you too Cooper, and everything you do to- I mean *for* me” you said playfully, making him laugh at your witty joke, feeling the way your gummy walls hugged him tight, fluttering around his cock as he kept a good steady pace. “Felt you tighten around me, go ‘head, let go for me baby. I’m here” he said, bringing his thumb down to rub tight circles against your clit, leaving your back arching off the mattress and a wide O shaping your lips. “Fuck…Cooper, cum with me, please…inside” you said, making him groan into your neck as he buried his face there. “Anything for you sweet pea” he replied, moaning into your shoulder as you held onto him for dear life, knowing your orgasm would hit you hard. And that it did. You saw white stars flash in your vision, as your body arched up from the mattress once more, pressing yourself to him as your walls clamped down around him, milking him of everything he had to offer you as he painted your walls white. You panted as you rode out your highs, his lips coming to yours for a sweet, gentle kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

As you both lay there, basking in the after glow, he couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked teasingly, making him chuckle. “Just that I found the love of my life” he said, so casually as if it were common knowledge, making you give him that beaming smile he loved so much. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing the irradiated skin with your thumb as you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his once more. “Good, because I’ve been lookin’ at mine for a few months now, wondering when you’d finally admit it” you said, making him laugh along with you as he pulled out, got you both cleaned up and hooked you up to some RadAway. “Maybe I’ll go down to the market and getchya that ring you were eyein’ last time we went” he said, making you look at him astonished. “Oh Cooper, you ain’t gotta do that! You know how many caps that’ll run you?” You asked, making him laugh. “Does it look like I care? Besides, if it’s that ridiculously expensive, no one ever said anythin’ about spendin’ the caps if the person sellin’ it ended up missin’ somehow” he said with a grin, making you grin as you kissed him, only he could make murder look so good.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #asks

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scxrredgxrl · 1 day

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This would be that interrupted ad that you won’t skip. 😉

Hey guys!! Well, I think it’s about time that I make a pinned post. I’ve been wondering for a while how to write it, how to properly transfer the thoughts in my head into words. When things get overwhelm in my head, I usually like to write it down on my notebook and draw a cloud frame around it. That’s exactly what I’ll do so bear with me :)

☁️ Introduction (Myself): I don’t share my real name here, but I’ve always use Eden as my alias because it sounds similar to my chinese name and with that said, I’m of chinese descent, living somewhere in South East Asia (SEA). I’m a ‘93 baby, single and straight. Height, 166cm and my weight is… 🤫😂 As for my chronic illness, I have Discoid Eczema and I think WebMD would explain it to you more better than I do xD

☁️ Introduction (My blog): My blog is obviously 18+ and MDNI. You can ask me any questions that you have but all I ask in return is that you ask me privately through my inbox or DM and keep it respectful. As for my posts, I will not be posting as frequently as I have been doing so far because the eczema has gotten worst and I don’t have the right headspace and heartspace to do so. But, I will always be here to check the messages and reply to them so you can still find me there.

☁️ My K!nks: I try to be an open-minded person and I love a good “experiment” time. So I would say that I don’t have a particular favorite and that I love a little bit of everything that is in the k!nky category.

☁️ Conversation with me: I love dirty-talking as much as the next person but for me, dirty-talk depends a lot on the right time, right flow and right vibe. Honestly, if you’re able to hold a deep conversation with me in the first place? You’re already halfway there to my heart. And if you need a few topic ideas;

•Dad Jokes •Fiction Books •TV Shows/Films/K-Dramas •Jensen Ackles •My Bucket List (Both normal and naughty ones) •Tell me about your pet dog

☁️ Not that kind of girl: I don’t have an OF account or in any pør^ industry. I don’t have “special” content to sell. So please, please, please, DO NOT dm me asking to buy contents and NEVER send me DPs that I DID NOT ask for! Also, I’m flattered but currently not interested to be a sugar baby or to be “owned.”

☁️ Safe space: My blog, my DM is a safe space and judgment-free zone. Whatever you share with me will stay between me and you. Whether it’s a dark k!nk or you just need a stranger to talk to or a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be here. I may not reply as fast as an F1 racer but I’ll be here.

That’s about it, and like I said, you can still reach me through my DM anytime. Stay healthy, play safe, and may you be k!nk!er than yesterday, my loves 💋😉

#18+ content #k!nk community #daddy’s babygirl #sexy content #sexy titts #natural titts #spotify #intro post #pinned post

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 12 hours

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The Alchemy

AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.

Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

CW: Smut

Word Count: 6,871

Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.

It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.

Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.

Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.

Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows.

Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."

I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye.

"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script."

Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."

As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.

"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."

Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."

I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."

She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."

Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.

"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.

As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.

Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me.

I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength.

I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore.

Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.

Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head.

For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer.

That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.

As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.

"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."

I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.

But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."

Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.

The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.

Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.

"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response.

"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt.

Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement.

"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"

His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state.

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased.

I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt.

Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.

"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality.

"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class.

My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.

I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.

I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H

I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.

I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.

I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.

After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.

I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.

His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.

The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.

I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.

Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.

As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.

By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.

Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.

I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous.

"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy.

Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked.

I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me.

"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously.

Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.

I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly.

Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.

Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me.

I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field.

As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.

At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return.

In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.

As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.

"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.

"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.

"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.

Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game.

I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights.

"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly.

I tilted my head. "Why's that?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."

Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions.

"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly.

Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...

But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise.

Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out."

He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.

As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.

A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.

As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.

Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."

I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."

He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.

"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."

I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."

Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."

We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.

I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.

Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.

The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.

Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore.

"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.

Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.

"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.

My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.

Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.

Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.

Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”

As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.

Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.

"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."

He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.

I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.

"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.

Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .

"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me.

My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts.

I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.

My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.

My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.

"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."

I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.

My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.

And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.

He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.

But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened.

As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."

I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate.

"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."

He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.

"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.

As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.

We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.

"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.

I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.

"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.

I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.

"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.

I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."

He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.

My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.

"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.

A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.

Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.

Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago.

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.

As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.

The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.

Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.

His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.

The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.

I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.

Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.

One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.

I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.

Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.

He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.

Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.

"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.

"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."

Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.

“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.

“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”

The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.

I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.

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12triceratops · 1 day

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Where the rubber meets the road.

These two didn't just have a relationship, they had a (soul)utionship. "The Prophecy" Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle...

What these two had was magical. There is no debate that Karlie Kloss and Taylor Swift were electric: (I am using past tense for the moment, I will refer to them in present tense a bit later in the post)

Fast forward a decade later to Fortnight. This record did not hit me immediately the way "Folklore" and "Evermore" did, It has almost been a week since its release and I hadn't been fully onboard with TTPD. I was expecting something different, something not familiar and I had quite literally thought maybe Jack Antinoff and Taylor Swift had reached their limit together as collaborators. The music produced by Aaron Dressner had flavors and connections to "Folklore" and "Evermore," while parts of the album was reminiscent of "1989." My next thought that maybe the three of them had done all they could do.

And then the Matty Healy conversation exploded across the net (le sigh), and I just about gave up on the record.

I damn near had a sanguinary struggle within myself over The Tortured Poets Department (I know, that is very dramatic lol), and then I finally got it. The brilliance of this woman is unmatched.

The last song "The Manuscript." Now and then she rereads the manuscript Of the entire torrid affair

"The entire torrid affair" meaning the last decade (probably longer, but I am sticking with 2014-2024). The title isn't lost on me and many others - The Man-U-Script.

The last segment of the song

The only thing that's left is the manuscript One last souvenir from my trip to your shores Now and then I reread the manuscript But the story isn't mine anymore

She is closing the chapter on all of it. It's over, the countless theories, the stories we all have created about her. They're our stories now, we built them into a formidable, monstrous entity that took on a life of its own. "The last souvenir" are her words to us on this album. From the Swifities, to the Gaylors/Kaylors, to the haters, critics, industry, fans, media. She won't play this game anymore. Taylor gave enough clues on this album to make EVERYONE'S theory plausible (Karlie, Joe, Matty, Travis, Harry, Kim etc). She connected threads to come full circle, which brings us back to "1989," that 1980s syth-pop (hello! "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart"). This is why she and Jack Antonoff brought us back to where it all began, Karlie Kloss and #Kissgate (Dianna Agron, too, who can forget "Wonderland). Aaron Dressner summons moments within this records of the two albums that fractured my soul, F & E. That folky-pop melody that gets into your skin to change the DNA. No joke, I sobbed listening to "Folklore" and "Evermore."

With TTPD, Taylor comes in like a thrashing, tumultuous storm; at times seething and others admonishing. She is singing to herself, for herself and without need of approval from the mainstream radio (or anyone else). TTPD is messy, too much, not enough, vulnerable, real, relatable and she is tired of our collective shit.

Back to "The Manuscript" This Era has come to an end and she is leaving us with the ruins, the aftermath of what she went through: being forced to hide who she really is, having to placate the rabid fans who believe the stories of every boy she has ever dated. She has had zero privacy and the only safe place Taylor has ever had was her music, she is the ONLY one who knows to whom she sings. Does she love her fans, of course, but Mother is tired and done. She is ready to come clean and live the life she has crafted to keep in secret in order to protect the innocent.

The beards, NDAs, slight of hand, she is smashing all that we know. It's not her reflection she seeks to shatter, it's the illusions. In "Fortnight" the nurse, a woman (cannot convince me that it's not Karlie. A doorframe is 6'8" and that nurse is about 5" shorter that frame, which would make that person 6'3" :), comes to save her, gives her the key to set her free. The men in the video are the ones who are torturing her. Like the last 10 years, The poet has been tortured by the department of men: Joe, John, Conner, Jake, Harry, Calvin, Tom, Joe, Matty, Travis, Scooter, Scott, and the list goes on.

It's "Robin" that has got a choke-hold on me.

Buried down deep And out of your reach The secret we all vowed To keep it from you in sweetness

She is singing to a child, a kid, and I am going to say a little boy. Is this song about Levi? I am going to say yes. Hands down the gem of the album, and our cue to realize she is telling us what is next, her family, the loves of her life: Karlie and the kids. That is what she wants and that will be her next chapter. We struggle to interpret the Taylor that is always ten steps ahead of us. Her Eras Tour, this will be the last one for a while. Once it has wrapped, I wouldn't be surprised if she disappeared for a spell. Will she produce more work, sure. Perform, probably, but this last decade has taken a toll, and this tour has been a herculean effort. Hence, its wild success. Could she retire (FLORIDA)? It's possible, but she would never tell us, we would have to figure that out for ourselves.

I have more to say, but it's late and I am sleepy. As I get lost in the piano of "The Manuscript" I am reminded of the book "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo"

Not sure if anyone is going to see or read this, but I needed a place to write my thoughts about this extraordinary album that I almost let slip through my fingers. Good night and sleep well everyone <3

#taylor swift #karlie kloss #the tortured poets department #matty healy #gaylor #kaylor #jack antonoff #aaron dessner #1989 era #the eras tour

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old-school-butch · 2 days

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Hello again <3

I sent you an anon that you replied to on April 1st, which was me asking how ex-TIFs are received back into womanhood. Your reply gave me a little foothold which ended up very comforting as I started coming out rapid-fire to all my friends as detrans. this is primarily a message for other people in my situation, who are afraid and might want a template of what you might expect will happen once you do come out with it.

Predictably, most of my friends dropped me; I've 3 friends left. Two of which continue to support trans people but can accept that i have different opinions (as long as i'm "not mean") and one of which has seen the gender critical arguments, accepted them, and agrees. So, heavy losses, but not total losses. My two siblings seemed to sigh in relief and reveal that they never believed in genderism at all, which is odd, because in my 10 years of being trans not one of them challenged me on it. my mom fell into heavy guilt over "letting me" do all this, although i was 18 when i took testo and 19 when i got surgery, so she really could not have stopped me, legally. i suppose she mainly grieves knowing that had she had the right arguments she could have saved her kid this, but i've told her she is not to blame and i hope she recognizes that.

i haven't received any real harassment, not from anyone that i PERSONALLY know, though my family has received... harassment targeted at me? my sister had a classmate begin sending her copious pro-trans propaganda (contrapoints videos) which she instructed should be sent onward to me (sis did not comply). hilarious how my 10 years of direct experience is suddenly null and void and i'm assumed to know nothing about transness.... 6 months ago i was helping people sensitivity-write trans characters. now, i'm told i can't speak for the trans experience at all, and that i do not know what it's like to be a transmasc person. told that i need to listen to the arguments more carefully, that i don't LISTEN, when i literally lived this for 10 whole years. girl, on god? they tell me i don't get it and need to educate myself. and have empathy of course.

but in general, detransing, i've discovered that there are PLENTY of people who do not actually believe in genderism but who will play along simply out of fear or social pressure. my friends aside, who i knew through "queer" circles, everyone in my family (expect my mom) has revealed they never actually believed in it. i think this might contribute to why trans people bully dissenters so badly. they know this is the truth, that no one really buys it. i think, subconsciously, i have known that too. i never downloaded grindr, i never went into the men's bathrooms. i knew that despite testo and surgery and pronouns i could never challenge men as an equal in their eyes.

interestingly, making new friends is not that hard. I lead with the fact i'm detrans and "don't believe in all that shit" and people are VERY eager to be able to, suddenly, voice their real opinions without being called transphobic. they begin with probing questions, uncontroversial statements like "i agree they shouldn't put males in women's sports..." but if you continue to agree and not punish this daring on their part, they will reveal, with much relief and enthusiasm, what they really think. most people, normal people, really do not believe it all? i'm a brash person and can take irl confrontations quite well, hence i feel safe putting myself up as a transphobe off the bat. and people are very into this. so. the old ass saying, just be yourself.... normal people will not volunteer anti-genderist opinions on their own but when i continue to state thing after thing they open up and agree and eventually feel safe enough to admit their own thoughts. making friends, especially with non-gendie women, hasn't been that hard.

i'm going to write another message about same-sex attraction in the genderverse, but it's also a can of worms so i will make it separate from this one. again, thank you so much, for having anon on and listening, and letting us listen to each other without fear. i would hug you. to be continued

Thanks for the follow up!

My only comment is that I think most people play along out of kindness, it's not all bullying and fear, but that does impose a silence on everyone so everyone feels quite alone with their doubts.

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writingforstraykids · 3 days

Note

hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^

m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')

oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?

thank you!

It's always been you

Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)

Word Count: 4301

Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping

A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him.

You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”

“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside.

“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”

“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”

“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies.

“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly.

“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”

Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly.

“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”

“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously.

“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits.

“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.”

“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly.

“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”

“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment.

You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have.

You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”

“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly.

“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room.

Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”

“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile.

“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”

Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious?

You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now.

“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course.

“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading.

“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.

“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you.

“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle.

“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly.

“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly.

The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you.

“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly.

“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning.

“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you.

“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries.

“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question.

“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho.

“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly.

“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub.

“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins.

“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan.

“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”

“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”

“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head.

Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you.

"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"

Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"

You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.

Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.

Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."

Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"

Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."

The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.

"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."

Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."

And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.

Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.

When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”

The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him.

“I would love to,” you nod.

The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.

Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"

"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him

Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.

You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."

"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."

Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."

You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."

"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."

"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.

Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."

"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.

Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.

The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.

Two weeks later

You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink.

Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused.

You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.

It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening.

What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.

“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.

“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair.

You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little.

“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”

Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.

“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.

Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”

“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.

Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.

"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.

"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.

The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.

Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder.

“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard.

Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.

"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.

"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.

"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.

Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.

"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."

You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.

Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.

Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.

Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.

The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.

Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.

As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan.

“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.

“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge.

When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.

“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.

“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.

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wannabeschyulersister · 2 days

Text

so long, chicago

Without the warmth of your things in the apartment, it looked sad and cold. The boxes that you packed were stacked along the hallway. Movers were scheduled to help you in the next hour.

Your belongings would be traveling across the country with you following.

After one last sweep of the apartment to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything, you stood at the large bay window facing the city. A city that you once considered home.

You’d miss Chicago. You’d miss the people that you’d met. The connections that you formed. The memories. The laughter.

The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned and saw Carmen walk in. You didn’t expect for him to be home anytime soon. You’d hoped that you could avoid the last interaction.

“Hey.” You said softly.

He nodded, “I thought you’d be halfway outta town by now.”

“The movers should be here any minute.”

Carmen took off his coat and placed it on the right hook near the door. Yours would normally go on the left but it was currently sitting on top of one of your suitcases.

“Richie said you stopped by the restaurant last night.”

“Yeah, I wanted to tell him goodbye.”

“I guess that’s nice.”

“You guess?”

“What do you expect for me to say, (Y/n)? I love that you’re abandoning me and everyone you’ve met here?”

“Abandoning you?” You couldn’t believe that he really said that.

“We’ve been together for six fuckin’ years! One day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with me anymore out of the fuckin’ blue!”

“Out of the blue?,” you raised your voice, “Carmen, I dreaded making that decision for months! You were so out of touch that you didn’t even realize that we had stopped acting like a couple long before I ending things.”

Carmen chuckled bitterly, “That’s not true.”

You hadn’t planned on leaving on ugly terms with Carmen. If anything, you wanted it to be civil. You were huge parts of each other’s lives. Under all of the pain and heartbreak, there was love.

“I was the only person trying in this relationship. You would get home at one or two in the morning and I’d try waiting around just so we can have a conversation after not seeing each other all day. I planned date nights and tried to pry you out of that kitchen to notice that I was practically falling apart at the seams!” You confessed. It hurt you that he hadn’t even noticed.

“Relationships are hard! That why you have to make them work!” Carmen was visibly upset at how the conversation was going.

“I was the only one fighting for this, Carmen! When was the last time you bought me flowers or texted me to see how my day was going? I barely even heard an ‘I love you’.”

“I do love you. So much that I don’t want you to go and move to San Diego. You belong here with me and- and with your friends. People that care about you!”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I’m tired, Carmen. Tired of feeling like I don’t mean shit to you. I need to be with someone that wants to be with me. I want someone that won’t make me feel alone when we are together.”

Carmen closed the space between you two. It was the closest he’d been to you in days. He still smelled of the cologne that you bought him for Christmas with a faintness of the cigarette he must’ve smoked before.

“I thought we’d spend the rest of our lives together.” He said softly.

“If you thought so, then why aren’t we married? I’ve had friends in shorter relationships that have taken the next step. I’ve waited for so long for you to ask me to be your wife and every anniversary that passes, I know that it’s not going to happen. I don’t want to leave. I really loved living here. This felt like home more than any place I’ve lived in, but I can’t stay here.”

“I’ve been a fuckin’ selfish asshole. I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am. Please, I’ll make things up to you. I’ll change.”

“And when things get hard? When you get busy and stressed at the restaurant, then what? It goes back to how things were? I can’t put myself through that. I can’t take that chance.” It killed you seeing him so upset but when you broke up with him, it was like you could breathe again.

You were becoming the person that you used to be. You didn’t want to sacrifice yourself for someone else that didn’t give you the time of day.

Three knocks to the front door made you step away from Carmen. You opened the door and saw the movers with a dollie and a couple of extra boxes.

“Excuse me.” You felt Carmen grab his coat and brush past you. Part of you wanted to chase him down and wrap your arms around him. You didn’t want the last image you had of him to be so hurt.

As you watched the movers grab your boxes and take them down to the awaiting truck, you grabbed the letter that you wrote for Carmen. You planned to leave it on the kitchen counter.

You didn’t know if he’d even read it. Maybe he would rip it up into tiny pieces. Maybe he would read it over and over again.

It wasn’t up for you to wonder. You were at peace with your decision and that’s all that mattered.

#carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto

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shrenvents · 3 days

Text

Professor Howlett

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.

That I’m a mutant…

That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.

However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.

Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.

And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.

...

This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.

Multitasking between attempting to tie my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.

“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”

“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.

“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.

“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.

Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.

Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.

He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.

“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.

“Yes and I’m sorry-“

“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”

“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.

“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.

“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.

He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”

“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”

I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?

“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.

Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”

Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.

He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.

Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.

“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”

“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.

His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”

“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can vividly imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.

“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.

“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.

“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that isn’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.

“You imagined it?”

He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.

After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”

He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.

...

After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.

“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is only more strained as his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin.

So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.

“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.

Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coating his tone.

Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.

I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."

With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.

He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.

"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.

I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.

At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.

He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"

"Lo, it's too much-"

"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.

"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.

"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.

When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.

After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"

"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face of yours," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”

I guffaw, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."

He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."

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larissagwentarth · 3 days

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Friends to Lovers

Summary: Larissa and y/n had a friendship when they were younger after separating for 4 years they reunite but will they have the connection again?

Larissa and y/n were friends since childhood. Every moment they could spend together they would hide in the treehouse that y/n father made when she was 8 but as she got older it changed,it was big enough to fit in a sitting area, a small bookshelf and a rug full of blankets. One afternoon Larissa and y/n were lying on the floor y/n head was on her lap listening to Larissa read pride and prejudice as y/n listened to her she knew she like her since they first met but was scared to tell her also her mother would disown her she did not agree with who she really was.

“Larissa will you miss me when we go to different colleges”

She put the book down and looked at you and smiled at you hiding the sadness in her face.

“yes my love” she said as she strokes your long beautiful hair

She was beautiful with her blonde hair and her blue eyes which reminded me of the gorgeous weather we are having at the moment. Just looking at them makes me feel so much love for her.

After summer i stood in the treehouse remembering the happy memories that were made here knowing that we are separated and i never told her how i felt i saw the book and decided to take it with me so i had something to keep the memories in my mind.

“Y/n we need to go” her mother shouted.

She closed the door for the last time, wiping the tears in her eyes.

After graduating and moving to Jericho unpacking while looking an email came up on my laptop it was a job offer at a school which is not far from where i live Nevermore Academy i was so excited i stopped unpacking and started to celebrate i think this the positive thing i needed after going to college and having no one to be there for me it after my parents found out about my Sexuality and that i liked girls they old school so they believe that a women should be with a man so this was like an achievement that i have done all by myself without them looking down on me.

I woke up early in the morning for the interview. I just stared at the ceiling thinking about all that I've been through and the jobs in the past and how this is gonna turn into a new experience for me. I made it to the school and sat outside for 5 minutes in the car trying to calm my nerves.

I ask one of the students where the principal office was i saw the name

Principal weems

I knock on the door and waited for a response

“Come in” the voice said

I walk into the office and i see a familiar face and the past come rushing back to me

“Larissa”

#larissa x reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #fanfiction #lgbtq #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n

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kfedup · 2 days

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Regretsy no more

Hey, y'all. It's the lurker here.

I've been in the funkiest of funkless funks for the past few months and over the past few weeks, I've been unpacking why. Seeing how much I'm isolating because of a constellation of health-related issues and generalized depression. Have been considering trying meds. But one thing keeps coming to the surface and I finally decided it's time to deal with it.

The one thing is the only thing in my life that I regret. That thing is never having finished my bachelor's degree.

I'm twice divorced, have lost several important friendships, and moved more times than I can count to places I didn't really want to live to maintain relationships I should have never entered in the first place, but I wouldn't trade any of those things. I don't feel regret about them. Why would I? I discovered who I am and who I am not because I experienced those things. Each of them allowed me to learn how to repair what's possible and how to let go of that which is complete.

I'm very good at this marketing copywriting work but I'm bored senseless. I want to challenge myself and taking online workshops is fine but it's just more interacting through a screen and lord love a duck, my spirit needs more. Plus, I am not using my gifts of communication, empathy, mirroring, and holding space for others in the way I know I am meant to use them. For two years I've felt like I'm wasting what's left of my life.

I am so afraid I will die full of this regret.

The cost has kept me from pulling the trigger on this dream for several years. I wish I started sooner, but clearly, I wasn't miserable enough yet. I'm well and truly stuck in the muck at the bottom of the lake about it now. There's nothing left to do but swim to the surface, so here I go.

Today I applied as a transfer student to the Psychology program at Kent State University to start classes this summer. It will probably take me 3 years to finish the 2 years I have left because I'm a single-income household and will have to work. I'm terrified I won't be able to manage both, but I hope I can rally.

I'm not sure if I'll continue on to get the Psych MA at KSU or go elsewhere to get an MA in Art Therapy after I finish the BA. I also want to get certified in Internal Family Systems therapy, so I'll be 63ish or older starting a new career as a therapist and I feel excited about my future for the first time in... well... I don't even know. A very long time.

I want a career that feels meaningful to me, helps people instead of businesses, and lets me use my gifts. One I can do until I'm dead because I'mma need to work until they're spreading my ashes.

I plan to take a class this summer to dip my toes in.

Holy shit, y'all. Lila will be a senior and I will be a junior on the same campus. She's so supportive and I've been crying happy-scared-overwhelmed-curious-excited tears all day.

Kelly's going back to college. Holy shit.

#it's been 35 years #that's a hell of a gap #my student loan debt can fucking die with me #no more thinking about it #time to grab it by the balls and swing

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anarchy-n-glitter · 13 hours

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The Good, The Bad, and...

Summary: Lucy and The Ghoul encounter a shadowy figure from his past while on their way to New Vegas. This stranger, nicknamed Red Eyes, is intent on collecting a bounty on The Ghoul as a means to settle a feud between the two after they were betrayed by him. Will Red Eyes succeed, or will they have a change of heart based on their complicated feelings toward the man? (Cooper Howard x OC/reader) Words: 2,941

A/N: I forgot to post chapter 1 of this on here sorry guys. Anyway this is low key a Star Wars AU because as a Cad Bane fan I simply could not help myself so this is technically kind of a follow up to this fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

From the Desert Comes a Stranger

“I’ve taken down so many of dese clones over da years…” Her father began in his heavily accented manner, sighing, and pushing his hat back with his pointer finger as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. The red of his irises were somehow muted by the red lenses of the goggles he wore, which made it hard to see the look in his eyes as it was. He quickly dropped to his knees and with a single swipe of his knife he removed something from the clone’s body. She couldn’t quite make out what it was before he pocketed it.

He turned around quickly, pointing his gloved finger up at her. She straightened up.

“Now, Ciella, what ya need to know is…” He handed her the bloodied knife, closing her fingers around the hilt and holding her smaller hand in his. It was one of the only times he made a tender gesture towards her other than the odd hug here and there.

“Once you figure out one da rest are easy.” She had to wonder what the point of all this was.

When they arrived on the site - an old, decrepit warehouse with a caved-in roof - her father was quick to corner the clone that now lay dying before them. He tried his best to grab the gun that was strapped to his leg, fumbling with it and managing to point it in her father’s general direction before he was gunned down. Two shots in the chest from the looks of it, shots that left the man (clone) heaving and wheezing on the floor with blank eyes, and she knew that’s what he wanted to happen. If he wanted to shoot the man in the head he would have. He was the fastest shot in the Wasteland, and it would stay that way for many years.

“Now, I want ya to take dat knife dere and,” He finally stood and moved her closer to the dying man. “Yer gonna have to cut his throat, unless ya want to hear him scream. I’m not against it but it’s best dat we keep him quiet. Don’t want any stragglers comin’ in and takin’ us by surprise.”

Ciella drew in a deep breath as she knelt down beside the man. His blank eyes suddenly held so much emotion, it was a look she’d seen in her own eyes a few times before. Mostly on dark nights in the Jewel as she listened to the way men spoke to her mother… and the way her father spoke to her at times. It was the look she saw in the mirror after she saw how her mama took care of those men - their purple, mangled faces contorted in pain and their eyes bloodshot staring up at her, and their hands clutched around their throats.

This man was in pain, and he was afraid of dying.

There was a large tattoo on the side of his face, around his eye. It was a symbol, most likely belonging to whatever faction he belonged to since escaping his vault. From what she overheard her dad discussing, Vault 66 seemed to be defunct, with the clones created within revolting and escaping into the Wasteland. He had been hunting down the clones for the last five years, among other things. She never quite understood why anyone would flee a vault to live on the surface.

Her father took the respirator off of his face, letting it hang below his chin. She felt more at ease at this, happy to hear his own, unmodified voice walking her through what she was about to do. Her heart was beating fast and felt like it had leapt into her throat. She glanced at the open ceiling and focused on the large, white moon that hung in the deep blue sky.

Perhaps the sky full of swirling stars would be enough to comfort her.

“When he’s dead, cut off da part of his face with da tattoo and hand it to da Tin-Man. Den we can go home.” He instructed. Ciella hesitated.

The clone looked at her, stared her down, silently begging her for mercy. He was just a clone, and he was wanted so he must have done something bad, right? She looked back at her dad, who had pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, revealing his bright red eyes staring back at her expectedly. Tufts of navy blue hair peeked out from under his hat and over his goggles and his lips were curved into a small smile.

He actually looked like a supportive father for the first time in his life.

Ciella made her decision at that moment, and the girl at only eight years old turned around and drove the knife into the clone’s throat. His eyes widened and met her gaze for a moment and she felt her heart drop. He groaned and wheezed, the blood gurgling in his throat as the crimson substance dribbled from the corners of his mouth. A sputtering cough had his blood spraying across her face and she wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. She tried not to heave at the disgusting feeling.

On instinct, she pulled the knife from his throat and drove it back into his flesh. Over and over. A larger, warmer hand wrapped around her wrist and stopped her mid motion.

“Dere ya go.” Her father smiled wider as pride swelled in his chest. His baby would be a killer, just like he was. “After dis I’ll teach ya everyding I know.”

☠☠☠☠☠☠☠

The sun bore down unbearably upon the duo traveling along the Mojave Desert. It had been miles and miles of desert between the Griffith Observatory and the place the Ghoul was certain Lucy’s father was heading. The vaultie was starting to fall behind, clearly tired from the constant moving. It was hard to find shelter all the way out here, and unfortunately for her the Ghoul didn’t feel comfortable stopping out in the open.

They had traveled through a few settlements at that point, each one growing more and more decrepit and sparse. The people were quieter and hid away in their own corners of the small towns, eyeing the Ghoul and his traveling companion wearily. The whispers and glares of the different townsfolk hardly made for good hospitality, if anything it was that fact that drove him away from each place. Something was happening, someone said something, and he felt it was too risky to stop for a few nights in any of the settlements.

The last place they’d been to was a day’s walk away at this point, and the talk amongst the people in that saloon made him deeply uncomfortable. Then there was the body.

In the sandy dunes of the last settlement they had been to laid a man with sun kissed skin and snow white hair stained at the temples with red. The poor man had his brains blown out, by who… well, let’s just say he had a good idea of who it was. It was clear the job was done quickly, the man clearly didn’t see them coming, and the fact the man’s armor and other supplies went untouched raised even more alarm bells. He got them out of there quickly and quietly.

Unfortunately for Lucy, the Ghoul was one-track minded at the moment. His family was out there, he could feel it. There was a reason he kept going for over two hundred years, and he would not let those years of anguish be in vain.

He would kill anyone who tried to get between them.

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can stop, right?” Lucy sounded hoarse, tired. He wished he could answer her truthfully. He hadn’t traveled this far into the desert before, and the way the sun seemed to hang so high in the sky for so long made him question whether anyone ventured that far, let alone set up shop. He shrugged.

The dunes seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, with only a few rocky formations on the horizon. A few dried plants littered the ground here and there, somehow finding the strength to grow in such a harsh climate. It was a wonder anything was able to grow and flourish after the bombs. Maybe he should have sent the vaultie to ask for some sort of transport back at the saloon instead of being stubborn like he usually was.

“Maybe that person’s coming from a settlement down that way?” The Ghoul froze, feeling himself go numb.

Among the dancing heatwaves stood a dark-clad figure on the horizon.

They stood still, any discernible features hidden by a wide-brimmed hat and respirator over the figure’s mouth. The wind blew and kicked up dust and whipped the figure’s coat to the side, revealing the large holster against their hip. Their dark attire starkly contrasted with the bright blue sky and pale sand.

The words of the men in the saloon ran through his mind.

Someone’s lookin’ for a ghoul just like ya! There was a bounty put out not too long ago, I think it’s been taken offa the board. A lotta caps goin’ for that guy. He considered that a warning at the time.

Anyway, it looked like the guy who took the bounty was Red Eyes. He had the goggles an’ everything, but we all thought he was dead.

And Red Eyes was supposed to be dead. He died around five or six years ago.

The figure in front of him was a ghost.

Red Eyes stopped a good twenty feet in front of them, standing perfectly still. The wind shifted again and from beneath the wide-brimmed hat came a tuft of navy blue hair that blew in the breeze. The desert was all too quiet now, and it felt like something from one of his old movies. Red Eyes felt like an old western villain, dark and ominous, seemingly a force of nature. He worried the figure wasn’t only after him.

“Lucy, you should head back.” The Ghoul muttered, putting a hand out to stop her from moving any further. She stared at the figure for a moment, suddenly afraid because of the Ghoul’s reaction.

“It’s only one person.” She muttered. “Maybe they’re lost?” The Ghoul stayed silent. He would not repeat himself.

Her doe-like eyes flickered to him and she noticed the way his mouth was set in a seemingly permanent frown. His whole body looked stiff, like a cornered animal. She nodded, understanding finally, before turning on her heel to make a run for it.

The Ghoul watched as the stranger glanced in Lucy’s direction. Red Eyes observed her, seemingly studying her like an unbothered predator eyeing a nearby animal knowing it couldn’t do anything to stop it. He grit his teeth and took a few steps forward, spurs jangling with each stride.

This was not good.

“Now I know that fancy getup you got on is not yours.” He began through a false bravado, flashing teeth that used to be a pearly white. It was so easy for him to slip back into a role, something he had been doing this entire time. Yet, this time, he was given the chance to play the good guy. It felt unfamiliar somehow, after all, it had been several years since he’d done such a thing. He was almost grateful for this stranger’s theatrics. “Who might you be? Cause you sure as hell ain’t Red Eyes… he’s dead.”

He knew all too well who this was.

Red Eyes looked up, the red goggles reflecting the bright sun and making it impossible to see past their lenses. More of the stranger’s hair seemed to flow from behind them, long strands of navy waving in the wind like a flag. Their stance shifted from one of leisure to subtly looking like they would pounce. The stranger moved their coat away from their hip, revealing the large gun strapped to their form.

“I’d be careful where I was sticking my nose if I were you.” The heavily modulated voice called out. “Or lack thereof.”

The Ghoul bit his tongue. “I’m assuming that corpse we found back there was you, then? Certainly wasn’t the handiwork of any ol’ fiend.”

“Wasn’t much work.” Red Eyes spat quickly. “Was a clone. They're easy. Woulda gotten in my way.” Their accent, even through the voice changer, was thick. Louisiana, most likely from the New Orleans area.

“You’re here for me.” He didn’t feel the need to ask. He threaded his thumbs through the belt loops on his trousers, opting to seem more relaxed than he was. He knew Red Eyes would see right through his guise.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Their hand twitched beside their gun. He eyed them wearily.

“Well, I’m not goin’ willingly.” A low, rumbling chuckle sounded from the stranger.

“I never said I was gonna take ya in alive.” They answered, voice cold with an edge to it. He fought the urge to argue, to call their bluff, for doing so would be too risky.

Truthfully, Red Eyes had every reason to want him dead. It had been a few years, five to be exact, since they last saw each other. Five long years since he turned the fellow bounty hunter in for killing a crime lord. Five years since he left them for dead. This would be a fitting end for their little rivalry, even if it wasn’t always that way.

But he wouldn’t go down just yet. Not without a fight.

He had to find another way to fight them. A quick draw duel would mean a death sentence for him, unfortunately. Red Eyes was and still is the quickest draw in the Wasteland. He would have to throw them off somehow, say something to really disarm them.

He did the only thing he could think of, and instead of indulging in the stranger - instead of going for his gun - words that he never thought he would say slipped from his dry, cracked lips.

“Ciella, I’m sorry.”

Red Eyes froze. Their hand was still dangerously close to their gun’s grip. Over the wind, he vaguely heard the sharp, uneven intake of air from the figure. The breeze picked up again, blowing open the stranger’s coat to reveal the figure of a woman.

“It’s a bit late fer that, isn’t it, cher?” It most definitely was her. “I came ta finish the job. I shoulda known a coffin wouldn’t hold yer ass.”

Cooper held back a laugh. Ciella Bane was an ally at one point, and maybe even a friend, but the moment her picture was up on one of those boards he knew their partnership was over. Someone was offering a hefty reward for whoever could bring the bounty brat in, preferably alive.

That was his mistake. He knew he probably should have killed her while she was sleeping and taken the smaller reward for her corpse. Killing her like this would be a pain in the ass.

“You wanna take off that ridiculous getup and let me see you?” He taunted, much to Ciella’s dismay. He just had to hit her where it hurt, get her emotional and in her head so she missed when she inevitably shot at him. However, it had been a few years, he couldn’t be sure that trick would still work.

Though with dear ol’ daddy not around to give her more of his tips and tricks he doubted she would have improved much more than the last time they brawled.

Ciella scoffed. “The last thing you’ll see are these goggles. Everyone’s gotta know it was Red Eyes who took ya out, ghoul.” She spat, though there was a sadistic playfulness in her voice. Cooper rolled his eyes.

“I got places to be, girl.” Cooper countered with equal venom. He was getting antsy, and he felt she was wasting his time. “Let us through and…” He stopped.

What would he do? What could he do? What could he possibly offer her where she wouldn’t be on his trail while he and Lucy trekked the Wasteland on a wild goose chase? Ciella coming back from whatever corner of the world she ran off to after burying him alive was the last thing he wanted.

“Let us through and we can finish this some other time. I’ll tell you where I’ll be and you come find me.” He offered finally, feeling the weight of his words in his chest. He wouldn’t give up finding his family so she could have her petty revenge, but maybe one day, when everyone around him was gone and he knew his daughter was safe and could live a happy life, he would go to Ciella and let her put him out of his misery.

“We do this here and now.” The bounty hunter replied. “That head o’ yers is fetchin’ a pretty penny. Figured it was better I did it than some chem addicted fiend on the street.” Her words were purposefully inflammatory. She was doing the same thing he was.

She straightened up again, mimicking the stance of a cowboy in a western getting ready to draw, and Cooper knew what it meant. She wasn’t giving him a choice. They’d done this dance once before, and unfortunately for him it didn’t end well.

The Ghoul sighed and moved his coat from his holster, and he mirrored her stance. “This ain’t gonna go the way ya think it will, sweetheart.”

“I doubt that.” That same, robotic voice answered, yet he knew she was still all too human underneath.

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