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#they’re both only known for the one thing that they are
not-neverland06 · 9 hours
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How About a Nuke?
Part VIII / Part IX
(Completed) Series Masterlist
Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me. Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.
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It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick. 
He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around. 
There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks. 
There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it. 
He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill. 
She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way. 
Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore. 
It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them. 
Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.
He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world. 
He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long. 
He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand. 
It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited. 
“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening. 
She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him. 
She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would. 
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You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires. 
You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it. 
Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.
They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal. 
You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls. 
From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby. 
You don’t even know where they got that one from. 
They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots. 
What happened to natural selection?
You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them. 
His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”
One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”
You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is. 
He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table. 
You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”
One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap. 
“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist. 
“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed. 
They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other. 
“What do you think they’ll give us?”
One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.” 
The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb. 
The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”
“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”
He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches. 
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He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground. 
Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from. 
The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”
He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her. 
She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose. 
Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own. 
He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”
He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”
She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?” 
He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die. 
“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop. 
“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.
He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”
The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them. 
He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares. 
Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair. 
He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”
“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face. 
“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.” 
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You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge. 
You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink. 
You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper. 
You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face. 
You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t. 
At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly. 
Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help. 
You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face. 
You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement. 
You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground. 
Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”
You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can. 
You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.
He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”
You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it. 
Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it. 
“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”
You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”
He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again. 
Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood. 
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him. 
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He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here. 
“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”
She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”
“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it. 
Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end. 
To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”
Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”
He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”
She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him. 
She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?” 
He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”
She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”
He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”
Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”
It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her. 
He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”
He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her. 
“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down, 
“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”
Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”
He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”
Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”
“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief. 
“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him. 
“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it. 
“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.
He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part. 
His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit. 
He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane. 
But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer. 
She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.
He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him. 
His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”
She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt. 
“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable. 
“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips. 
He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again. 
He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable. 
She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him. 
He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”
Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”
He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”
She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”
He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”
“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”
He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”
“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.” 
Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth. 
“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”
“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice. 
She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”
She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”
He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”
She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”
“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned.  “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”
Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”
“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”
Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”
He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”
“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”
He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”
She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”
She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”
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“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you. 
“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least. 
In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing. 
You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”
He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?” 
You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”
He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home. 
You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.
Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels. 
“I think it’s important you learn.”
You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.
He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard. 
His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”
You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”
His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”
You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you. 
“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”
The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words. 
You’ll always be there for one another.
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You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity. 
You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now. 
He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”
You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass. 
He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside. 
The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly. 
If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn. 
He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store. 
This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot. 
You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you. 
Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming. 
It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do. 
Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life. 
He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”
The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”
Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him. 
Or he could help you. 
It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve. 
Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other. 
With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him. 
Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him. 
The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap. 
Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go. 
You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
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There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on. 
The Outlaw and The Sheriff
Their first movie together. 
He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different. 
Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed. 
She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be. 
“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.
She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”
He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once. 
“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns. 
He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?
Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit. 
But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.
Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same. 
He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover. 
He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely. 
She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have. 
She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more. 
She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him. 
He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again. 
She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.
He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it. 
He’s giving in now, giving into her. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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scorpioriesling · 2 days
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Dangerous Woman
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Eris x reader
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mdni
Summary: You've known the High Lord's oldest son for years, but he has never seemed to take much of an interest in you. Did he think you were perhaps too... simple? Boring? Safe? It all comes to a head when you finally reveal how dangerous you can really be.
SR’s Note: THIS IS FILTHY HAHAHA IM SORRY. I have boarded the Eris train and haven't even THOUGHT about getting off yet -- I really hope you guys like this eeeeeek
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
“Did you bring an extra pair of tights?”
“Always - top zipper. I think they’re a medium,”
“Ugh. You’re literally a lifesaver.”
*sigh* “Aren’t I?”
Your friend Amalia playfully winks at you, taking the extra pair of pantyhose from your overnight bag. You glance at her legs, eyes catching on the long rip down the side of her caramel colored tights she currently dons. Returning your gaze to the mirror you’re seated before, you continue to work on the black winged liner you were previously applying, tuning out the hustle and bustle around you. After a few moments of pinning down flyaways, powdering your nose once more, and practicing kissy faces in the mirror to yourself, you finally decide you’re ready.
You take a swig from the water canteen on your vanity, rolling your neck and swinging your ponytail in the process. Amalia catches your eye through the mirror from behind you, stalking closer with another girl wearing nothing but a tiny shimmering bralette and skirt set.
“You look hot, Y/N!” She squeals, flipping your ponytail and you beam at her, turning in your chair to meet her eyes. You might be “hot”, but Amalia… Amalia was beautiful. Her body curved in all the right places, and she knew how to move to draw the eye to each and every one. Not to mention her full lips, only matching the captivity of her almond shaped, chocolatey brown eyes that seemed to complement her rich skin tone in the best way. If you didn’t have such a life long… thing?… for the High Lord’s kid, you might even be attracted to her yourself.
“Ohhh, don’t flatter me too much Mal,” you say sweetly. She rolls her eyes, and stretches a hand to you. You take it, standing to your full height and smoothing the short black skirt down your upper thigh. The leather matched the knee high black leather boots you chose for tonight - and, of course, the miniature, rather revealing bikini top you sported as well. Amalia’s whoops and whistles, twirling you around and you make a show of sticking out your butt and pursing your lips, which leaves you both in a fit of laughter at your show.
“C’monnn,” she says, taking your freshly manicured hand in hers once more and guiding you toward the door. “I heard there are quite a few High Fae in attendance tonight.” She tosses a wink over her shoulder to you, and you stop dead in your tracks. Her blonde friend who’d been following close behind nearly bumps into your shoulder.
“Woah woah woah,” you say, black nails a blur as your hands wave in front of you. “High fae? Like… from this court?” You ask. Amalia allows a devilish grin to spread over her face.
“You heard me. Like… royal family, High Fae.” She responds, crossing her lithe arms over her chest. Your face immediately begins to heat.
“Ooh why? Is there someone you’re hoping to see?” Amalia’s bubbly blonde friend asks. The sequins on her bralette flutter as she practically bounces in excitement. You chew on an acrylic nervously.
“Only the High Lord’s oldest son,” Amalia starts, and you roll your eyes, feigning indifference. The blonde’s eyes widen in interest as she looks between the two of you, practically begging for more details. “Y/N has been in looove with him since she was a mere child-“
“Oh Amalia, you and your silly stories.” You huff, but the blonde claps her hands together, a wide smile taking over her face.
“Oh my gosh!! Really!” She is bouncing up and down now, and you can’t help the small smile that graces your lips as Amalia chuckles in amusement.
“Oh yeah, really. But, outside of this place, Y/N doesn’t actually speak to the guy,” Amalia clips, frowning at you. You return the sentiment. “I just don’t understand— you are such a good performer in here, why not show him any of that outside of Markov’s?” She asks.
“Uh, because I want him to like me for me? Not because I, ya know, sometimes hang out in a brothel?” You say, hands gesturing with each word. The blonde shakes her head.
“Wait a second. You actually know him? Like, in real life?” She asks. You nod, her crystalline blue eyes widening with the realization.
“She’s his family’s personal record keeper,” Amalia cuts in. “And, she literally grew up with the dude. Same school, same social circles, yada yada yada…” she says, waving a hand. The blonde takes your hand in hers affectionately, staring at you wide eyed.
“But, what will you do when he recognizes you if he comes here?” She asks. You open your mouth to answer, but stop as Amalia pulls something from her own bag beside the dressing room door.
“He usually isn’t seen in here,” she says, handing a black shiny … something? to you. “But, if he does, he won’t know. Because she has this to conceal her identity.” You arch a brow, unfolding the item placed in your hands.
“I mean, it even goes with your outfit. How could you refuse?”
゚: *✧・゚:*
“Any luck?”
“Nope,” you say, tugging on the bottom of your black bunny mask with a defeated sigh. On a night like this, usually you’d have already found someone in search of your services, but… you couldn’t help but turn down just about every one with the High Fae rumor going around. You so desperately wanted to see Eris — or did you? Would it really be a good thing if he was hanging out in a brothel? You weren’t sure.
The fact of the matter was, Amalia was right — you’d been pining over this man for fucking centuries, and he never really seemed to spare you a second glance. You tried everything; being kind, being friendly, being honest. You’d opened up to him over time even, but no matter what he was just always that much more distant from you — like whatever step you’d take toward him, he’d take one backward. It hadn’t been until the last time you’d talked to him that you decided to try something different, to see if this new approach would get any rise out of him.
Was lying wrong? Yeah. Was it a punishable offense? Depends. Was saying you had a boyfriend to get a reaction out of him grounds for jail time? Absolutely not.
And ya know what? It didn’t even seem like he cared that much anyways.
“Listen babe, I’ve been keeping you company all night, but,” Amalia glances over her shoulder at a muscley brunette man eyeing her from a couch across the room. “…I’ve got a line of my own forming. Think you can manage on your own?”
Before you can respond, your new bubbly acquaintance from earlier beelines toward you two, out of breath when she finally makes it to you.
“I…. I think I found… your…” your head tilts as you try and make out what she’s saying between breaths, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Who?” Amalia asks in a hushed whisper. The blonde only turns, and both of your eyes follow her line of sight to the unmistakable head of auburn locks, standing and socializing in the room across the hall. Your breath catches in your throat; there’s no way he’s here.
“Ohhh… oh babes you know what you need to be doin’.” Amalia chuckles, and you glance at her, cheeks reddening.
“Now is not the time to be shy girl! And besides, you have on a damn mask, Cauldron’s sake; he won’t even know it’s you. Now go! Play up the “sexy” before someone else tries to snatch him away.” She shooes you on, and your feet spring into action. The heels of your boots tap tap tap across the wood floor, many gazes turning to you as you saunter toward the bar he’s standing in front of.
Play up the sexy, you remind yourself. He doesn’t even know you’re… you under here.
You approach the bar, leaning against it as the bartender walks up to you. The coolness of the steel eases the burning of your skin a little, and offers some stability in your nervous state.
“The usual,” you say with a wink, faking confidence. It works as Grevin, the usual bartender smiles, and begins on your Malibu with pineapple juice, *extra strong*, just how you like it. You feel your skirt riding up a bit as you lean further over the lip of the bar, exposing the backs of your upper thighs and you can feel his stare finally on you.
Perfect. Right where you want him. It’s not long before you hear his signature scoff next to you, as he leans on an elbow mere inches from where you stand.
“My my,” he begins, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. “What do we have here?” You slowly turn your gaze to meet his, and watch as his amber eyes drink you in fully, roaming from the very tips of your rabbit eared mask down to the toes of your leather boots. You gulp. Play up the sexy.
“You like what you see?” You ask teasingly, crossing one ankle over the other and folding your arms under your chest. Eris smirks, only inching closer to you and dragging his tongue over his lower lip as his eyes continue to feast on your exposed skin. Gods he’s so impossibly gorgeous-
“I do,” he says casually. He extends a soft hand, and you place yours in his. You feel like lightning ripples through you from his touch, and you want to relish in this most simplistic moment. “Eris.” He says.
Shit. Uhh… you didn’t think this far. He’s gazing at you like he’s expecting some kind of answer, and you try to quickly come up with a good fake name, but thankfully don’t have to — Grevin approaches and sets your drink down in front of you. You accept it, throwing it back and downing the whole thing.
“Impressive,” Eris drawls. When you finish, he pulls you closer, so close you can smell his familiar cinnamon and cedar scent. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in Markov’s?” In seconds, he’s given a glass of his own amber liquid. He swallows half of it, eyes returning to yours for an answer.
“I uh, I work here.” Another lie. You only came as Amalia’s guest sometimes to make extra cash, and in hopes maybe you’d see him here, finally getting some kind of fucked up chance to be with him.
He raises his brows, nodding slowly, and drains his glass. He catches Grevin’s eye, nodding when the bartender asks if you’d both like another round. Slowly, his fingertips have moved to dance along the edge of your leather skirt, his skin only skimming the tops of your thighs and you suck in a breath. He grins devilishly down at you, eyes tracing over the curve of your breasts spilling from your top. He suddenly leans in close, his breath warm against your neck, sending chills across your skin as he whispers darkly in your ear.
“Be careful, don’t you know how easily leather can…” his free hand twirls in a swift motion, a small flame eliciting in the process.
“…burn?” He chuckles. He pulls back to peer down at you again, and you roll your shoulders back, drawing your pointer finger to drag downward from his top lip to his chin. You barely notice the — not one round, but two extra rounds — of drinks Grevin has set before each of you as you take in Eris’ feral gaze.
The fire in his eyes only seems to ignite as you lean in, your cherry scent familiarly intoxicating as you reply lowly; “maybe I enjoy being a little dangerous.”
゚: *✧・゚:*
“I never really come to these types of places,” Eris says breathlessly, his hand grasping yours as you lead him drunkenly toward a room you know would be open for the evening. He let you lead the way after a few more rounds and some small talk at the bar, not complaining about the view from behind as he followed you up the stairs and down the dark hallway.
“Don’t worryyy,” you slur. He chuckles behind you, and you arrive at door #17. This one is reserved for you, rarely used, but yours nonetheless. You fumble to unlock and open it, Eris’ warm hands tracing up and down your sides as you fiddle with the door. Once inside, you opt to keep the lights off, allowing the moonlight from the open window to illuminate the room enough to your liking.
You close the door behind you, and no sooner than it clicks shut, his hands are pushing you against the back of it. The leather of your outfit squeaks in protest against the wood of the door and Eris’ body now holding you against it, his dark chuckle sounding in your ear. It was enough to release a bit more of the wetness already drenching the small cloth offered by your thong.
“Somehow, even after the… three? Four? Drinks we had,” his hands snake beneath the back of your skirt, shoving it up over the curve of your butt and palming your ass. You let out a soft groan — you’d only ever dreamed of this before, even if you could only half see his face in the moonlight. “…I never caught your name, gorgeous.”
Your cheeks redden, and you take the opportunity of his lips being so close to yours to crash them together instead of answering. His fingers squeeze your ass and you yelp, your soft cry muffled by his warm lips on yours. You yank open his shirt, the buttons easily coming undone and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. One of his hands moves to cup your face, thumb running across your jawline lovingly before he pulls away to meet your stare once more.
“Fine then, don’t tell me little rabbit,” he says, eyes wandering from your lips up to the leather rabbit mask you bore. “You’ll just have to be my little bunny to play with tonight.”
With that, his mouth was attacking yours again, lips in a tango with yours and tongue swiping along the edge of your mouth. You open, allowing him access and deepening the kiss as you both battle for dominance. You’re just content to explore so deep into a cavern so delicious — one you’d never thought you’d taste, not in any of the centuries you’d lived. His hands are all over you, first moving to knead your breasts harshly, relishing in the soft moans he draws from you in the process. Once he’s had enough teasing, he pulls you flush against him by your waist, his hard length pushing into the softness of your stomach. The feel of his long member only increases the ache between your thighs.
“Don’t make me wait anymore,” he says, pulling away breathlessly, eyes darkly boring into yours. In a moment of courageousness, you shove him backward, a feline grin on your face as he falls back onto to his elbows on the bed behind him. He smirks as you crawl on top of him, working to undo his corduroy confines, slipping them past the protruding tent near his navel and discarding them haphazardly to the floor. He helps by kicking off his undergarments and you can’t help but stare at his toned abdomen, his impressive length springing free with the absence of the confines.
Positioning yourself on your knees between his legs, you seductively lick a stripe up his shaft, and his chest begins to rise and fall unevenly. Your gaze meets his and you lick over the leaking tip of his cock, gripping half of his shaft in your fist and giving a few slow, tantalizing strokes. Your tongue continues to work around the exposed area, swirling around and teasing his length where a rather fat vein protrudes. He chews on his lower lip between his teeth, and you finally descend on his length, taking every inch you can down your throat while maintaining eye contact.
“Uh… ohhh my…” he utters, as you begin bobbing your head on his shaft slowly. Your hand pumps what can’t fit in your mouth, and one of his hands instinctively reach for the back of your head, softly pushing down with the rhythm of your motions around his cock.
“Fuck… oh fuck baby…” he softly pants, head rolling back as his hand pushes down on your head faster, harder. Tears begin pricking your eyes as his large member hits the back of your throat, and you try your best to hollow your cheeks and suck in as much as you can.
He continues to whimper and groan before you, and through your blurred vision, you can’t help but feel a twinge of pride. Sure, he may find you boring and uninteresting and anything else when you’re sitting in your office in his father’s palace. But now? He’s literally whimpering before you.
He’s pushed to an almost impossible depth and you choke a bit, his hips beginning to thrust up slightly to fuck himself into your sloppy mouth. Muffled groans emit from you as he thrusts in a few times, until you feel his dick slightly twitch in your mouth.
“Ohh fuck-“ he pulls his dick out of you in an instant, his hand moving to caress your jaw and tilt your head up to look at him. His wet length slaps against his stomach as trail of saliva drips down your chin, collecting near the valley of your breasts, and his eyes track it all the way. His thumb traces over your swollen bottom lip as he inhales sharply.
“Fuck sweetheart, I don’t want to cum just yet,” he says, removing his hand to slowly stroke himself once more. You take the moment to slide your skirt and thong down your thighs, discarding them to the ground. Eris watches intently as you continue to strip, left in only your tight little bra and him in his unbuttoned button-down. Kicking off your boots, you begin to seductively crawl atop Eris once more, and his fingers graze over your hips and round your ass once more before finding purchase on your hipbones. He grips tight and flips you, eliciting a soft squeak from you in the process. Now fully atop you, you can’t help the delight in letting him do as he wishes and be in control over you.
“Let me do this how I want?” he asks, eyes gazing at you in question. You lean up off the bed, biting his lower lip softly before releasing it and staring innocently back into his eyes.
“Use me however you want.”
Your words snap a chord of restraint in Eris, as he tosses your legs over his shoulders then, running his cock up and down your folds to collect your dripping wetness.
“Gods, so wet for me already…” he drawls, aligning his length with your needy entrance. Then, without warning, he grips your waist hard and slams into you, eliciting a sharp cry from you in response. He grunts at the tight squeeze, relishing in the way you clench around him.
“FUCK!” You shout, and he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in once more, a low growl reverberating in his throat.
“GODS, Eris-“ you gasp. He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, quickening his thrusts — only pulling out halfway but still slamming into you all the same. Your small moans of pleasure seem to egg him on, pants and grunts occasionally emitting from him all the same. His eyes stay trained on you; your boobs bouncing beneath the confines of your bra, your mouth agape as you scream in pleasure for him, down to the slick spreading across his dick as it slides so easily in and out of you. You’re a vision; one he’d only dream of. One so similar to the dreams he has over and over, night after night.
“Fuck… oh, fuck this pussy feels so fucking good baby,” he grunts out, and you continue to allow your moans of pleasure free fall from your lips. Your nails rake over his muscles back, surely leaving scratch marks as he drives into you. One of his hands detaches from your hip, threading his fingers through yours and holding it to the mattress above your head. You tangle your other hand in his incredibly soft locks, illuminated by the rising moon outside. The heat in your stomach continues to build, the coil winding tighter with each snap of his hips into yours.
“Eris I’m… I’m so close-“ you gasp, and he slows only for a moment, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before continuing his thrusts, now slamming into you at an impossibly rapid pace.
“FUCK, ERIS, I’m-“
“Gods YES baby, please Y/N — let me feel you cum baby,” he groans, and with that, the red hot coil in your stomach snaps. You release with a loud moan, pussy clenching around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Within seconds his warmth is filling you from the inside, his soft whimpers filling the room as you both ride out your highs.
After a few quiet moments, he stalls his movements and pulls out of you, and you instantly feel… empty. He takes the spot on the bed beside you, laying on his side and tucking an arm under his head. He brushes his fingers along the curve of your face as he studies you, and after a few moments in silence, he clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I, uh, I called you that.” he says, and you slide your eyes to his in confusion. He looks magnificent, even in the dim lighting, and you can’t help but feel a little sad that your night with him is drawing to a close.
“Whatever do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.
“Uh… during.. I accidentally called you something I shouldn’t have.” He says. You continue to just look at him confusedly, and he continues.
“I said Y/N, and I uh, I didn’t mean to.” He explains, retracting his hand from you.
You blanch; when did he call you that? How did you overlook it? How didn’t you catch the sound of him saying your name?
You’re silent for a moment, contemplating the whole situation when he speaks again.
“It’s just,” he lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N is actually this girl, um, she’s someone I know. Well, I know her really well, actually. Known her quite a long time.” He says, and you can’t help the butterflies in your chest. He thinks he’s talking to a stranger, but you’re only hearing the love of your life talk about you.
“Mhm…” you urge. He turns to look at you, and you try to innocently mask the desperation in your eyes as they meet his whiskey colored ones. He props his head up on one of his hands.
“Well, I just got carried away I guess. I’m sorry, I was just… I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. I mean, I’m always thinking of her but… lately… I don’t know. It’s nothing you did! I mean you were great and all, I just… I can’t get her out of my head, I suppose.” You can’t help the guilt you feel as he looks away, sadness clouding his eyes as hope fills your heart. You never would’ve guessed he felt a fraction of this, based on how he usually interacts with you.
“So… why come here if you care so much for this girl?” You ask. He huffs a laugh, rolling on his back to stare at the ceiling.
“Honestly, I didn’t think she returned my feelings. And, now I know she doesn’t because she told me she belongs to someone else,” he says, and you mentally kick yourself. What the fuck were you thinking telling him that? “You just look a lot like her, and I don’t know, I just got so caught up-“
“Have you told this girl how you feel?” You cut in, pretending to be helpful. He shakes his head, staring at a spot on the ceiling above.
“No… she told me said she has a boyfriend, so. I don’t really think it would matter much anyways.” Your shake your head, and your hand reaches out to lightly take his hand in yours. His turns his head, gaze meeting yours again, and you give him a reassuring smile as warmth only blooms brighter in your chest.
“Eris, I think anyone is crazy not to fall head over heels in love with you,” you say, and he grins. “In my opinion… you need to tell this girl how you feel as soon as you see her next. I’m sure she’d break up with that silly boyfriend of hers if she knew how you felt.”
“You really think that’d do it, huh?” He asks, hopefulness in his tone. You give him a wide, honest smile.
“I really, really do.”
゚: *✧・゚:*
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morganski-19 · 3 days
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Chills Right to the Marrow Part 8
part 1, prev part
The hallway is empty when Dustin leaves the room. Steve and Lucas nowhere to be seen, Mrs. Mayfield gone somewhere else. Leaving Dustin alone to wander.
He doesn’t quite know what he wants. Where he’s going. Just following the path he would normally travel each day. Bouncing between rooms, looking for something to do.  Trying to find someone who would talk to him. Give him something to take his mind off the train tracks it’s bound to.
He grips the book in his hand, feeling the familiarity of wore out pages. Each one loved as he read and reread them over and over again. That’s what he does when he needs comfort. Goes back to the same story over and over again, to a world where he knows every outcome. Where there are no more mysteries. Dustin knows the answer to every question, every possibility.
It’s why he chose it to read to Eddie. It was a book the both of them loved, brought them joy in the darkness of life. He wanted Eddie to feel safe while his body was asleep. Knowing that some coma patients can hear what’s going around them. Even if it doesn’t register, it brings comfort on a subconscious level that there are people here supporting him.
At least that’s what Dustin hoped would happen, what he was striving to do. But he can’t do that today. There’s someone outside telling him that he can’t be in Eddie’s room right now. That something’s going on inside.
He goes right to thinking of the worst. That they are preparing him for some surgery that will probably delay the day he wakes up. Take more time from Dustin. Or maybe Eddie is dead behind those walls. Body finally succumbing to his wounds. His brain activity finally faded away. Leaving Dustin with the misplaced hope that it would all be ok.
He continues to wander into the waiting area. Seeing a familiar face getting a cup of shitty hospital coffee. Dustin must look confused, as Wayne’s face immediately looks concerned when he sees him.
“You alright kid,” he asks, stirring his coffee.
Dustin blinks. “They wouldn’t let me go into Eddie’s room.”
“Yeah, they’re working on him right now. Taking out his breathing tube.”
Panic fills Dustin, the only reaction he’s capable of right now. “Is he ok. That’s a good thing right?”
Wayne sets a steady hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Yes, that’s a good thing. Why don’t you go sit down, you seem like somethin’s upsetting you.”
Dustin lets Wayne lead him to an empty chair, taking the one beside him. Quiet, letting Dustin be the one to start talking about it. He doesn’t really know how to. Wayne’s been through enough already, he doesn’t need to go through his things too.
Now that he has things to go through.
This was so much easier when things worked out for him. When Will was found and ok. When all his friends made it out of the tunnels underground. When it wasn’t him who lost people, but he could be there to help the ones who did.
He's seen so many people go through the hospital. They always got better in the end, that was good. Why is it so hard during the wait for them to get better? Why does the hope leave him more and more each day? He was the happy one, the one with all the jokes. Helping everyone else out, making sure they smiled.
Who’s going to cheer them up now that the smile can’t seem to return to his face?
“Do you remember Max Mayfield? she lived across from you and Eddie in the trailer park.” Dustin says when the words finally form in his mouth.
Wayne nods. “I do. She a good friend of yours?”
“Yeah,” Dustin plays with the bent cover of his book. “Yeah, she is, one of my best friends. We’ve known her ever since she moved to town back in middle school. She's in a room down the hall from Eddie.”
Wayne looks at Dustin like he understands where this is going. Maybe he does. Or maybe he’s just used to the hospital life after all this time. “Figured, saw her mom here a few times. She doin’ ok?”
Ok isn’t the right word, but Dustin can’t speak for how she feels. He can only speak for himself. And he is definitely not ok. “She’s blind.”
The words feel more crushing now that they’re said out loud.
A sob escapes from Dustin’s chest. The crushing feeling he’s had for weeks finally breaking free. Everything coming out at once in this hospital waiting room. His face falls into his hands, palms pressing into his eyes. Trying to keep the tears inside.
A hand pats his back, comforting him while he breaks. Helping him through this pain. Someone he barely knows but feels so safe around. Silently telling him that everything will be ok. That he will be ok.
Someone else comes and crouches in front of Dustin, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, what happened?”
Dustin blinks the tears away enough to see Steve looking at him. “What do you think?”
He nods. “Why don’t I take you home, it’s already been a lot today.”
“What, no, I didn’t get to visit Eddie yet today. I have to read him the next chapter.” Dustin pulls himself to sit straighter, making himself look more put together. Tears still running down his cheeks.
“I think Eddie would understand if you missed a day. He would want you to take care of yourself.”
“He’s right,” Wayne agrees. Gently glaring at Steve, but still agreeing. “He wouldn’t want you to strain yourself for his sake.”
Why does everyone keep making decision for Dustin’s benefit? Do they even know what they’re talking about?
Still, Dustin lets Steve bring him home. His mind still stuck in that waiting room with the world falling down around him. Looking through the window doing nothing but add to his feeling. The peaceful outside now rampant with destruction.
The town was broken into pieces. People moved around between the shelters and the hospitals. Some even brought outside of the town to different hospitals in the area. It finally hits Dustin how much of this actually concerns him. How much it always concerned him.
How that kid he used to be kept smiling, he doesn’t quite know anymore. How he was still able to smile a week ago, he doesn’t know. With all that’s happened, with all his friends are going through, he thought he needed to bring levity to it all. Bring the hope that things could get better.
Hope is a dangerous thing. It makes people believe in something that might not happen. Makes him believe that the scars will fade, and the injuries will heal. That his friends will be exactly the same as he knew them last week. A year ago. Two years ago. When they first met.
He’s not even the same as he was a week, a year, two years ago. Somehow, foolishly he thought that life could move on from this. That the upside down would become nothing but a pin in the greater picture of his life. That down the line, when he’s married and maybe has a kid or two of his own, he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.
Now, it’s become more real than he’s ever thought of before. Now, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to sleep the same again. The nightmares won’t leave with age. His friends will never become less scarred. His mind won’t be as scarred. His childhood will never be just his childhood. A part of it will always be captured by these memories. Memories that he can hope to only repress.
Dustin will have the privilege to walk away after all of these years without as little of a scar. He has what, a sprained ankle, and that’s it. Max is blind, Will’s lungs are damaged from extended time in the upside down. Lucas, Erica, and Mike are completely traumatized by what they’ve seen. By what they’ve been through.
Dustin is traumatized by what he’s seen. By what he’s been through. He’s always said that his was so much better than everyone else’s. That he was the least effected, so it was ok to diminish it.
He’s now realizing how stupid it was to think like that.
Note: Back to the Wayne POV in the next part. All of Dustin's POV will also be uploaded to ao3
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
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vesselmade · 6 months
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can we talk about how, in the light novel nanami refers to yuji as ‘sukuna’s vessel’ and gojo quickly cuts him off by saying ‘I’m not talking about Sukuna’s vessel, but a boy by the name of Itadori Yuji’. i think he may have also been thinking about himself in this moment as well. yuji who’s known as just a vessel and gojo who’s only known as the strongest.
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mylovelookup · 2 months
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Cattonquick boarding school sweethearts/romeo & Juliet AU
In which Oliver also comes from old money and he and Felix fall in love in boarding school(?). The Quicks and the Cattons have been business partners since Queen Victoria was still kicking so Ollie and Felix have known each other their whole lives (summers and holidays always spent together) but when their family ties are suddenly severed after a hostile fight between their fathers, the boys’ last year at Eton is irrevocably ruined. As a reaction they decide (it was Felix’s idea and he succeeded in cajoling Oliver to agree) to elope run away on the first day of the Christmas holidays (imagine their respective chauffeurs endlessly waiting for them at the school gates lmao) and get married on a whim (also Felix’s idea to somehow "fix" things like ta-da! Can’t separate us now dad, we’re fucking married. Oliver is now a Catton. Family peace restored! No, not really Felix lmao.)
#needless to say they get caught the very next day#maybe they didn’t have much cash left and the only -pace they could’ve slept in for free was the hotel in the area that the Cattons owned#the reception prolly snitched but they both knew they would get caught eventually#also it doesn’t help that they’re the heirs of the richest aristocratic families in England#maybe they keep their marriage secret?it would be smarter to considering the repercussions but also maybe Felix it out first thing?#bc its Felix duh#as a consequence to their little escapade Oliver is pulled out of Eton for the rest of the year and the two of them only get to meet#the next year at Oxford where they have to keep things on the down low since Oliver’s father has threatened to transfer him to Cambridge if#if he’s seen frolicking about with Felix. it’s also difficult when Farleigh is acting as a (well-paid) spy for both parties#although both Jeff and James had sprinkled other eyes on the campus#oooh imagine them trying to hide in the back of the club. making out whilst crouching down behind dumpsters lmaooo#or or or! Felix attempting to throw them off by hooking up with indiabel and Oliver is so jealous he ends up doing the same thing#even tho he prolly knows about Felix’s intentions. (Farleigh doesn’t help with his catty comments about ephemeral love)#highlighting Felix’s well known shallowness. and then Felix gets jealous too so it’s a vicious cycle of pointing fingers at each other hehe#anyway they prolly end up like Romeo and Juliet#I was only supposed to do ONE canvas but got carried away and this shit developed a plot! sedate me#also this layout sucks wtf#saltburn#fanart#my art#felix catton#cattonquick#Saltburn fanart#oliver quick#felix x oliver#cattonquick fanart
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sugarsnappeases · 3 months
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thank you for the tag @fxreflyes this is so cute, except the format is trying to hinder my propensity to ramble, so i’ve rectified this in the tags lmao
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
no pressure tags for @static-radio-ao3 @inevitablestars @itsjaywalkers @carniferous @orbitfalls @transsexualpriest @futurequibblerjournalist <333
#i'm like 5'7 i think. fun fact i used to wear glasses when i was like 11 bc all my friends were getting glasses and i wanted some too so i#lied to my optician. lol good times. don't actually need glasses tho soooo.#this is me coming out as a natural blonde guys….. like my hair hasn’t been blonde in a good year or so and it hasn’t been my natural blonde#in like three/four years but still in my heart of hearts i identify as a blonde. like i get confused when people don't count me as one#i have my ears and nose pierced and i would love a tattoo but unfortunately i have both a fear of needles and commitment issues so.#not sure if that’ll ever happen… would be very hot and sexy tho. also i'm one of those freaks with green eyes lol it's appaza quite rare#my hair is currently like dark dark brown… have been getting the itch to dye it again tho like a kinda reddish colour idk yet we’ll see#i had braces for AAGES. i have freckles in the summer and i paint my nails whenever i remember to. rn they’re a very chipped lilac colour#i think i have a resting bitch face but i can never tell tbf like it might be more of a resting 'dead to the world' face lmao#okay technically i don’t play an instrument anymore! but in the past i’ve dabbled with the cello the oboe and the xylophone. singing too#spanish and italian baybee although ig if this means like fluently then that’s not me but this is literally my degree it’s my whole brand#yes i like to read but also the only things ive read in like the last few months have been either books in spanish/italian for my degree#literary criticism for said span/ital books and… fanfic. so. also i like writing but it's my worst enemy rn the thoughts aren't working :(#i have many best friends that i’ve known for years!!!! in fact i've known some of my friends for like my entire life it's very cute#okay sorry for rambling i can never help myself and i also literally could go on icl like there was Some restraint applied here#kara lore#bc there's quite a lot of it in this one lol#tag games
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Rise Leo meeting the 2012 Gang except after like, less than a week he says something along the lines of ‘Man, I can’t believe that all versions of me and my brothers and our friends are queer!’ And the whole 2012 Gang FREEZES because none of them are out to each other because they just assumed they were the only gay in the group and Rise Leo was able to figure everyone out like THAT.
Cue Spider-Man pointing meme where they’re all like, “YOU’RE BISEXUAL AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?? WE COULD’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT THIS ALL THIS TIME??” While Rise Leo is like “…You guys didn’t know?? Really??” Because they were all so focused on “Oh my god I’m gay… How do I come out to my family…” to notice that ALL of them are gay.
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boysborntodie · 4 months
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I drew the besties!!! (They are besties in my heart)
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skhardwarevers1 · 2 months
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anyways “just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are” Program and “I am stronger than you give me credit for” Vista
#Could also be Moon & Tera they’re both equally as sad#But I’m gonna just. Let that sink in.#Even in the early phases (Hansel/Gretel) they were designed specifically to be a stronger more logical machine and a human-esque creation#Vista was never meant to be as strong mentally or physically as Program could#but they pushed through anyway. The perceived imbalance between them will always get me#Vista/Gretel thought Koeia liked Program/Hansel more because he served a purpose#Program/Hansel thought Koeia liked Vista/Gretel more because they were like her “daughter”#And later Program ends up putting aside their differences to look out for them#“For the greater good” my ass! He cared about their well being more because he knew they were supposedly “weaker” than him#but realizing there wasn’t much of a difference between them in Koeia’s eyes made him feel compelled to shield them from some things#He figured that they were meant to be like siblings#he wanted to be their sibling#They wanted to too but they didn’t want to be inferior#They felt that Program was better than them in every way. It was him that made the project possible after all!#Clearly he /must/ be better right?#So they’re stuck in a weird spot of not having known each other for years and only perceiving what they thin other was compared to themself#And then being thrown into a situation where they’re trying to make it out together#Even as early as before the incident Program was looking out for Vista#Program felt threatened by Clay sometimes and would try to tell Vista to get out#Him attacking Clay was his way of trying to help#Which only fucks up Moon a little more when Procyon starts taking that same “helping” role and gets Clay…you know…speared….#And they feel so betrayed it sends them into an entire spiral of barely knowing who they are anymore#Anyways I didn’t meant to rant bye bye#S.K thinks#I hope this changes someone’s perception of Moon as a whole. Just one person I’ll be happy with that
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yuribalisms · 8 months
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Essentially what it is all boiling down to is I have fully realized I am bad at being a person, that will always be true, and I don’t know how to handle that
#I’m going to be depressing and self depreciating in the tags so. fair warning to anyone who reads them#I’ve known for a while now that I don’t know what to do with my life. I’ve thought of a few ideas but none of them seem to be working. and I#think a good chunk of what it’s boiling down to is that I am quite literally just stupid when it comes to an actual useful real life skills.#and it’s frustrating because I can’t even talk to ppl I know and confide in them that I feel dumb and stupid without them being like ‘nooooo#don’t say that! you’re not stupid! you were top of your class in hs!’ (that is their favorite thing to fall back on) but like. the thing is#I wasn’t even smart in hs. sure I did good but that’s because I cheated my way through and got lucky a lot. I never actually learned anythin#I never understood what I was being taught or how to apply it. I was good at English and art classes and that was it those were the only one#I truly felt I knew what I was doing in and grasped the subject matter well. I know I’m good at those two things and smart when it comes to#those subjects. but the thing is. in real life. both of those are useless skills. I can’t make money with them and it is highly unlikely#that will ever change. and yes I know not being able to make money with it doesn’t mean it’s useless but like it kinda does. capitalism#sucks. I know that. we all do. but that doesn’t change that we live in a capitalist society and it’s unlikely to actual change in my lifetim#so I’m stuck to try and figure out how to live in it. but I have no skills I can make money with so I will live my entire life poor and#miserable and working dead end jobs that make me want to kill myself. I’m not good at socialization I’m so fucking bad at it so I can’t work#any kind of job that hinges on networking or sales or human interaction which is MOST JOBS but I’m also too stupid for anything related to#STEM. I tried two different stem degrees and flunked out of both of them because I am a FUCKING IDIOT and I know there’s no point in trying#to go back to school for another one. but no degree in anything I naturally have a knack for will help me find a decent well paying job. ill#just be wasting my money to go to school for something like that. and then like. I don’t even think I’ll ever get married and I def won’t#ever have kids. so I can’t even put any hopeful stock in just being happy with a family one day. I know a lot of ppl who don’t like their#careers but they’re fine with that because they’re happy with their family but like I don’t even have that and I won’t ever have that. I#have NOTHING to strive for and NOTHING I am good at that’s meaningful I’m going to fail at having a career and a family and I know that#doesn’t mean I won’t be happy in theory but by societal standards I am and always will be a fucking failure of a person and since I do live#in this society yeah. it’s kinda fucking true. and I don’t know what to do about that. I’m just tired. I’m tired of being afraid and#struggling and going through patches of wanting to kill myself because of this because like what’s the point. I’ll never have anything#better so what in the actual hell is the point of me existing. and I know I’m being ridiculous and my brain is eating itself and none of#this is probably even true but that doesn’t change that it FEELS like it is a lot of times and esp right now and I don’t know what to do#to anyone who reads this I’ll be fine tbh prob as soon as tomorrow like dw about it I just need to get it out so I stop stewing in it.#I’m just. yeah. not having a great time rn but I left work so I’m gonna cry and then maybe sleep for a bit and hope that helps#kaz rambles
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tonycries · 1 month
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I'm Addicted, I Admit It!
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Synopsis. They’re not drunk on alcohol - no, they’re drunk on you and your pretty lil’ pússy.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Choso x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Geto x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pússydrunk boys, strength differences, bréeding, màting press, desperate boys, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Nanami’s side), praise, degradation, smacking, cúmplay, dirty talk, some HEINOUS things, lowkey fluffy Sukuna, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Was originally gonna be something else but I couldn’t get it out of my head so-
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Won’t stop, can’t stop
A pussydrunk Toji Fushiguro promises to break you - and is fully intent on fulfilling these promises. There’s no way he wasn’t with the way he had you folded into a mating press for the third time tonight. 
“Oh hngh- please.” you mewl, begging for- you don’t even know at this point. 
“Fuck.” he hisses into your mouth, and you flinch as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over-
You weren’t going to make it out alive. 
Vision blurry, drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth, his cum gushing out of your overfilled pussy and spreading in a lewd little pool beneath you. You’re beyond the point of cockdrunk at this point - all you can do is sit there and take it while he keeps squeezing himself into you with reckless abandon. 
That little scar on the corner of his mouth rubs against your lips so deliciously as he grimaces in both pain and pleasure. Overstimulating you both to insanity. And fuck, Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum against but damn if he wasn’t going to try. Just wanting to fill you up one more time- “One more, doll. Not fucking enough.”
And before you know it, your pussy is clenching around nothing. 
“Ngh- T-Toji.” Face sinking into the plush pillow as Toji flips you like a ragdoll. Not even giving you the time to register what’s happening before he’s bullying his thick cock into your dripping cunt from behind. Relishing in that delirious little squeal of surprise that leaves you as he stuffs you full again.
“Shit, fucking squeezing around me so fucking deliciously, sweetheart. Look at ya.” he slurs hoarsely, voice shot. Drinking in your sobbed little, “Ah- jus’ like that. Fuck hngh- keep going-”
Both of you are barely lucid at this point, but it’s all that tiny rational part of himself can do to not fuck into your sloppy pussy like an animal while you clench and flutter around him. Kissing hotly down your spine as you desperately adjust to his massive cock.
But ah you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling of realization at the way his achingly hard cock was throbbing inside your walls at a maddening little bump! bump! bump!
With an impatient little grunt, Toji wraps an arm around your waist to give your quivering cunt a soft little swat! He drinks in your cute lil’ gasp of surprise, reeling back all the way till his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance, pushing in quick, short jabs of his hips - more to fit himself deeper inside your snug cunt than anything. 
With each harsh thrust, Toji’s pulling you back onto himself with bruising strength. Forcing you to feel every ridge and vein against all the right places as he stretches you on his cock. “Fuck, you’re incredible.” he murmurs. “Arch more f’me- yeah, that’s it. Tha’s my girl.” 
And oh how you love being thrown around by him this way. Because no more was Toji self-conscious about hurting you like he usually was. 
No, he’s pushing your back down to arch into his dick, still using and bending you however he pleases. And as he flattens his feet on the mattress, putting his body weight onto yours, it’s only a matter of time before you wonder when bones will start breaking.
But it still wasn’t enough. And he’s restless. 
Because Toji’s looping two strong arms around your legs, letting himself fall backwards onto the mattress, hips burning as he keeps fucking you like an animal. Not pausing even as you clench around him in shock. 
“Feels s’fucking heavenly.” he groans, voice raw. “Wan’ one more, sweetheart. Give me one more.” Lacing his fingers above your head to push. Down down down. So fucking filthily. 
And it burns the way he had you so shamefully spread open. At this point you can hardly believe you’re conscious let alone being able to sob out a strangled little, “Yes! Yes yes yes make me cum, Toji. Make me cum all over your cock again.” 
And he does - thumb pressing down on your poor, ravaged clit. Hard. unmoving even as you whine and buck into his touch. Torn between running away and pushing back for more more more- you cum with nothing more than pathetic little tingles that make you milk Toji’s cock desperately. Batting your lashes tearily up at him with a low, “Wan’ you to hah- c-cum insi-.”
You don’t even have to finish the sentence, before Toji’s pumping his seed into you with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name. Nothing more than hot, sticky wisps of cum that trickle down the side, too much for your poor overfilled pussy. Shooting delicate rope after rope until his cock is angry and twitching inside with nothing but blanks.
But in the haze of your high, you hear the way your boyfriend still finds it in himself to chuckle.  A dark little, “One more, sweetheart.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - His, his, his
When Nanami Kento is pussydrunk, everyone will know the day after. 
And by everyone, it’s everyone - from the apartment security guard that blushes and looks away, to your coworkers who titter when you walk in. 
Because Nanami can’t stop himself from claiming each and every inch of your pretty self. Lips searing on your skin, leaking tip dragging along your swollen folds. His precum smearing so filthily across your cunt.
“K-Kento-” you mewl, grinding your hips into his so that he would just fucking ruin you like you wanted him to. 
“Mhm?” he murmurs, nipping along the delicate skin of your neck. Tongue flattening, licking long, languid stripes down like a sort of reverence. “Tell me what you want, my love.”
And if he put an emphasis on the pet name, well, then let it be known that Nanami Kento was a composed man - but that wouldn’t mean he won’t let everyone know you’re his. Even those scrubs that can’t take a hint. 
Which is why his neat fingernails were digging deep into your hips, leaving pretty crescents in their wake. Dragging down ever-so-slightly to leave you all marked up and his. His grip on you only tightens at the pretty lil’ whines that spill from your kiss-bitten lips, “Wan’ you- hah- inside me s’bad.”
“Oh? And who does my girl want inside her pretty lil’ cunt?”
“You! You Kento- ngh-”
Well, whatever his girl wants - she will get. Because Nanami’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning at the way you’re already clamping down on him so deliciously. Not stopping till you were flush against the neat tufts of blond at his base. Barely even giving you time to adjust because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re sucking him up so well. 
“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Yeah fuck me just like that- Kento.” you’re tightening your legs around him, letting Nanami all but use you as he thrusts in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Mouth still marking and biting your skin relentlessly. 
His lips leave your neck to whisper against yours, eyes half-lidded and boring into yours. “Love when y’say my name.”
Gasping breathlessly at the bruising grip all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your throat - just everywhere because Nanami can’t get enough of you. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace. Ramming his thick cock into your sloppy pussy deeper and deeper. “You’re mine, y’know that? All mine. And anyone with eyes can see that.”
Several things happen at once, you let out a strangled moan as Nanami changes his angle to hit that one spot he knew so well. Flushed tip hitting it over and over until you were sure it was bruising. As bruising at the hand kneading your ass, swiftly coming down. Hard. 
Smack!
Nanami’s large handprint sears into your skin. And through the haze, he soothes his hand over the sting. Starting to draw slow, languid circles on your swollen clit like a little apology - but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer. Not at all - in fact, before you can react, he’s touching any and every inch of skin once more, making sure to leave pretty lil’ marks for days.
And he has to fight that loud, carnal part of himself that just wants to ruin you under his hands here forever, but no - Nanami needs everyone else to see as well. See how you’re so beautifully his.
Smack! 
“So pretty f’me, my girl. All f’me.”
“Yes! Ah- yes yes yes. S’all for you, Kento oh-” you moan brokenly like a mantra. A raw little ah! ah! ah! Leaving your swollen lips each time his twitching balls smack your ass, so wet and sloppy with your slick. You’re sure they leave a mark every time his achingly hard cock bullies into your snug cunt, dipping in and out in and out in and-
“Yeah? Then you’re gonna cum f’me, too, pretty girl?”
“Yes- ah-” Hand on your clit frenzied now, hips out of control. Breath hot against your ear while he holds you down in a bruising grip. So very filthy and all his-
And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity sparking down your spine as you cum so hard that you grab at Nanami’s sculpted back for some - any - semblance of sanity. 
The only things on your mind being how hot and heavy he was fucking you through your high, and the sharp sting on the crook of your neck, his canines digging into your delicate skin.
“F-fuck.” he whispers, muffled in your neck. “Squeezin’ me so tight. Ngh-” hips stuttering and so sloppily still meeting yours. Still fucking rock-hard.
And through your glassy vision you manage to make out the pure pride shining in his eyes as he reads the silent question on your face. 
“Not yet, my girl. I still see some blank spots.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Quiet bully
“Mm, not hngh- stopping until you cum again f’me, pretty girl.”
When Geto is pussydrunk you barely even notice at first.
Because he’s the ever-graceful and suave Geto Suguru, even when he’s ramming into your pretty pussy with reckless abandon. Head thrown back, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead, hands bruising on your hips and pulling you to deeper into his hips as he fucks you from behind. 
The only way you do get an inkling of the fact is because he’s so mean. Geto always is in bed - but right now he’s just bullying you. Long index toying with your swollen clit, quick, maddening little motions to get you off for the nth time tonight. 
“But, Suguru!” you mewl, clawing at the sheets, “C-can’t cum again-”
“You will.” he leans down, breath hot against your ear as he whispers, low and gravelly. His abs are rubbing against your back as he keeps his unforgiving pace, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Because Geto doesn’t get drunk on just your pussy - no, he gets drunk off of all of you and how pretty you are when you’re cumming all for him. 
“C’mon, you do it f’me.” he hums, so mockingly innocent that would’ve almost believed him - if it wasn’t for the way he speeds up on your clit. Throbbing cock twitching inside you at the delicate tears streaking down your face. 
Fingers merciless on your clit, balls smacking against your skin, holding you still as he rams into you over and over-
“S-Suguru!” you let out a strangled gasp, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes as you cum. And oh he loves that cute lil’ expression on your face, the tears clinging on to your lashes and the way your slutty cunt flutters so filthily around him.
You’re lucky you’re turned away from him, because you don’t see the cruel little smile that curls his lips or the excitement flashing in his darkened eyes. Though, maybe it would’ve better prepared you for when he huffs out a fucked-out, “Tha’s my girl. One more- Hngh- one more.”
Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you because fuck you weren’t going to make it out alive, Geto was going to absolutely ravage you till you’re ruined-
“O-one more.” Geto groans like a mantra. Flattening his feet on the bed to ram into you at a different angle - one he knew would hit you at that one spot that had you gasping and grinding deeper into his throbbing cock. “One more f-fuck, give me one more-”
If you were in a better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed how fucking sloppy and mean Geto was slamming his cock into your snug pussy. And how his sadistic little hums were becoming more and more strained, turning into broken grunts like he was begging you. Begging himself. Still fucking you like an animal, bodyweight pushing yours down, you crushed underneath him. Trying to milk that last, sweet little orgasm out of you.
“Cum f’me once more, my girl.”
And nothing more has to be said before you’re cumming. Again. Eyes scrunching shut in pain and pleasure as you grab at the headboard for some semblance of stability. 
Honestly, you don’t even have to, because Geto’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his heated body. Grunting as your cunt desperately tries to milk him for all he’s worth. Brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. But Geto can’t - won’t right now. Not yet. 
Instead he’s reeling his hips back again, until his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy hole. Running on just your cute lil’ whines and the way you were clamping down so deliciously around him. Thrusting in frantic, shallow grinds for now because he was feeling so generous as to ease you into it.
“Suguru! Ah- not again-” you squeal, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. But whatever plea that comes next gets stuck in your throat as your loving boyfriend utters words that have your cunt clenching exhaustively in anticipation. 
“Now the real fun starts.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please, baby. Please.”
For Choso, it’s hard to not get drunk off of your pretty lil’ cunt. And he gets so whiny and needy when he does. Barely even squeezing his throbbing cock through the first ring of muscle before he thinks he might just see the pearly gates of heaven - and you were an angel. 
You’re just so warm and sloppy on top of him, slick dripping down to his twitching balls, swallowing him up so deliciously. 
“Ah! Ngh- s-slow down-” you whine, head spinning at the pure stretch of him stuffing you full. His twitching balls were pressed against your ass, veins grazing against your plushy walls, pulsing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! that you can feel in your throat. “S’too big, Cho. I don’t think I can-” 
“No!” he gasps into your skin, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently. “Need it s’bad. Need you so bad- Fuck, I can’t stop-” 
Hips moving mindlessly, fucking up in tiny, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside you. Not even fully inside you, but he was already so out of control. 
The mattress is creaking deafeningly, a lewd little staccato with the squelches from down below. “Choso-” you whimper, torn between clamping down on his swollen cock to suck him up more desperately and running away. 
“Oh- oh baby, f-fuck. Squeezing m’so tight.” he’s groaning into the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped so tight around your waist that it almost hurt. “Hngh- Don’t think you can run away from me.” And Choso couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to - barely even giving you time to adjust before he’s milking himself on your dripping cunt. 
Cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips each time he rams himself inside deeper and deeper, you were just gushing around him. Pretty pussy taking him so readily despite your protests. “Need this so hngh- fucking badly. Need this need this need this-”
“F-fuck, Cho- Yes, give it t’me.”
Ah, his head was spinning. The only thoughts running through his mind being how sloppy you were, so wet and squeezing him so perfectly - his pretty girl was taking him so well. 
Blindly, Choso shifts onto his forearms, head craning to graze his lips along the seam of your mouth . Mind too hazy to kiss you properly like he wanted to - but it’s fine, he’ll kiss you silly after this. Fuck, he muses, balls squeezing painfully, just as soon as he cums. 
And you can do nothing more than take it as he chokes out low little moans of your name. Head spinning because his cock was so big and he wasn’t stopping - just wanting to fuck your tight pussy until he-
“Ngh- c-can’t fucking take it anymore, baby. Need to fucking cum.” he grunts, tearing springing to his eyes, sounding like he’s losing a bit of his sanity every time his heavy balls smack your ass. And he needed you to, too - ringed fingers snaking down to draw harsh, frenzied little patterns on your swollen clit. Not even circles because shit Choso doesn’t have the time for that - just wanting to have you gasping and seeing stars as soon as possible. 
“Cho, m’c-close. Ah! Ngh, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum-” you keen, hips bucking up wildly for more more more- And oh it’s like Choso’s favorite song, because his throbbing cock is twitching inside you so deliciously, thrusts sloppy and unfocused, thumb aching with how fast it was on your clit. 
“Me too, baby. Hngh- m-me too.” he gasps into your open mouth, movements only getting faster and faster and-
And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Choso’s hips stuttering - so desperate, so filthy as he shoots thick, hot spurts of cum into your snug cunt. Fucking his seed deeper and deeper into you mindlessly. 
And he can’t stop - he won’t. But you absolutely love it. Because you’ve barely blinked the haze from your eyes before he’s pulling away ever-so-slightly, a hand pushing away the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Breaths ragged, voice hoarse. 
“Not enough, baby.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sober thoughts
They say drunk minds speak sober thoughts, and oh how Sukuna wishes that wasn’t the case when he’s fucking you dumb. How he wishes he could stop the strained little grunts that escape him each time his heavy balls smack your ass. 
“Kuna- Ngh- s’too much, c-can’t anymore-”
How he wishes he wasn’t drunk off your cute lil’ whines, and that fucked-out expression on your face as he rams his cock into your pretty pussy. Plunging into your heavenly cunt again and again and- It was too fucking much for him. 
Because it makes him wish he didn’t lean down, whispering softly in your ear, “You can do it, angel. Hah- I I know you will. Hngh- That pretty cunt is made f’me, always taking me so good-”
Ah, you clench so obscenely around his thick cock, shivers running down your spine. Milking him so obscenely as his weeping tip hits your poor cervix over and over. 
“W-wha-?” you blink tearily at him, voice shot. Trying to grasp reality because usually, Sukuna would usually tell you to shut up and fucking take it like the good lil’ slut you are. And if you were in a better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed at the way he holds such power over you, just a few words of praise and you’re already turning into his personal plaything. 
He huffs out in frustration, leaning down to lick a long, lazy stripe up your cheek, gathering the big fat tears rolling down it on his tongue. And you can’t even think of bringing yourself to be disgusted, because this is Sukuna and he’s always so filthy and mean. 
Except right now, being mean is the last thing on his mind. Murmuring out a strained little “Don’t act so surprised. You know you always milk my cock so well.” drinking in your cute little whimpers. “Shit- like yer trynna suck the s-soul out of me. Never met someone so fucking perfect f’me-”
He thinks he could almost cum right here right now when he sees you snaking down a hand to play with your swollen clit. “But Kuna~” Such an adorable pout appearing on your face when he gently smacks that hand away. Sukuna just wants to kiss it off your swollen lips.
And he does - licking hotly at the seam of your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip while you keen into his. It’s messy - all teeth and spit and adoration. 
Because you might not see it with your eyes half-lidded from the ecstasy, but Sukuna is looking at you with such nauseating heart-eyes. Ones he’d vehemently deny later, of course. But for now he settles for groping a hand down your pretty body, one, long finger rubbing unhurried little circles on your throbbing, achy clit. 
“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head.”
So different from his unforgiving cock. All push and pull as he fucks you like his sextoy, but kisses you like his God. 
“Ah! Jus’ like that, feels so f-fucking good-” you’re a teary, whimpering mess underneath him. 
“Mhm? Feels s’good, huh?” he groans gutturally. Letting you buck wildly underneath him because shit you look so pretty being all desperate and needy for him. “Squeezin’ me s’tight. Fucking heavenly you are, you’re gonna pay for it if I cum early, angel.”
Your eyes snap open at his delirious confession and the way he seems well and fully intent on breaking you - and talking you nicely through it. It was making your head spin, especially at the way Sukuna get more and more out of control, all sloppy movements and even sloppier words. Slurring out little praises while he stuffed your ravaged cunt faster. Deeper. Pure, carnal need where he usually toyed with you so cruelly. Closer and-
“Cum for me, angel.”
You think you cum at the first word out of his mouth, because you’re seeing stars behind your eyes before Sukuna even finishes the sentence. And he’s not far behind - giving you one, final harsh thrust before filling you up in thick ropes of cum. It gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy as he keeps fucking into you like some animal. Letting out little mutters of how fucking beautiful you were and how heavenly your cunt is and-
And, well, by the time he’s collapsing into your ready arms, Sukuna might not be so pussydrunk anymore. But by God it doesn’t stop the way he nuzzles your hair softly. 
Pulling your sweaty body close to his, so fucked-out and exhausted. So fucking debauched with the way his cum gushes out of you. Hot and sticky, seeping into the sheets and pooling in the nonexistent space between you two. 
So very, very his. 
♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up!
Gojo Satoru doesn’t shut up - not even when he’s stuffing his cock into your pretty pussy, and especially not when he’s drunk off of the heavenly feeling. Off the sight of you - all swollen lips fallen into a soft oh!, eyes glassy and miles away, so debauched and pretty underneath him - he just has to let you know.
“Look at you. Fucking perfect. Gonna fuck you till I can’t anymore.” he murmurs wetly. “Gonna make it feel so good f’you. Gonna have y’milk my cock until there’s nothing to milk.”
And Gojo swears he isn’t pussydrunk - but the way he’s babbling into your tits says otherwise. Looking up at you through his long lashes with dazed, hooded eyes, words muffled around your tit but still he keeps running his mouth. 
“Hngh- S’fucking tight and hot around me.” he murmurs, hips snapping to meet yours, milking himself mindlessly on your snug cunt. So hard that it almost hurt at the sting of skin-on-skin. “God, could stay like this f-forever.”
He was getting so loud now. Mixing with the sloppy squelches from below.
“You could, too, huh? Drunk on my cock enough to? Y’look like it-”
That makes your cheeks heat up. “Satoru-” You scramble to hastily cover Gojo’s mouth, stopping that sweet sweet voice from saying the most filthy things. You can feel his smug little grin underneath your fingertips, and you almost know what’s coming- before he licks a long, amused stripe up your palm.
Snatching your hand back, you sigh - as best you could when your boyfriend was ramming his thick cock inside you - “Satoru! What did I say about-”
“But you make it so easy, sweetheart.” he whines, hands roaming all over your body. Gripping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach before resting at your swollen clit. Pooling your sweet juices on his fingertips, drawing featherlight circles around the nub like he was trying to convince you. “Don’t lie. Y’like this big mouth. Love it even.”
Unlike Gojo - it’s hard to get your words out when he’s bullying his cock into your dripping cunt. Ramming into you over and over-
“Admit it. Don’t you love it? Love hearing me talk fucking filthy to you like this?” His words were coming out fast now, mixing with your cute whines and the heady air of the room. Each one punctuated by a brutal, harsh into your dripping cunt. 
Fingers working magic on your sensitive clit while his cock ravages you below. And the great Gojo Satoru does not give a fuck about your hushed whispers about how your neighbours are home or how “this is the fifth time they’ve complained.”
Because his girl’s pretty lil’ cunt is fucking perfect and he needs you to know.
Gojo presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. Thrusts growing more and more careless. Losing his sanity with each stroke - with each word that comes out of his mouth. “I know you like it.” he groans, “I can see it in your eyes, n’ the way this slutty lil’ pussy squeezes me so fucking tight.”
Dragging - not pushing - you both closer to the edge. Frantic now, syllables slurring together and Gojo’s hips stuttering into yours. Drunk off of you and your cunt and the way he can’t stop talking and talking and-
“Yes,” your words were a barely audible whisper - but Gojo hears. Of course, he does. “I love it. Fucking love it, Toru.”
And then he’s cumming - and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he’ll never be able to stop. Not, that he’d ever want to.
Because Gojo keeps pumping the thick, hot spurts of cum oozing out of him into your sloppy pussy. And shit you look so pretty underneath him, his seed dribbling down your thighs, eyes fluttering shut as you cream around his cock. And, of course, he has to let you know - babbling about how cute you were milking his cock and how warm and wet.
And Gojo’s still running his mouth as he pulls out, over your disappointed little mewl. All the way down till he’s swiftly centered between your open legs. Breath fanning your cunt, a devilish grin curling his lips.
“Time to help you remember exactly how much you love this big mouth.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.
Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.
“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
“OW!”
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.
“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.
“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.
“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.
“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.
It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”
“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”
“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
“Please,” he mutters.
“What was that?”
“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.
“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask
“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.
“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.
“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.
“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.
“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.
“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”
~
“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.
“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.
“What makes you think so?”
“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.
“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
“We’re actually married.”
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Part two out now!! Read it here.
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mareestoermers · 21 days
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i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.
1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.
2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.
3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).
4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.
5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.
just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.
in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.
even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.
in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.
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fairuzfan · 2 months
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But the other images I had was like a mass refugee camp. So basically at that point in time, two months ago, about 20,000 people had sought refuge both in the hospital and outside the hospital. And these weren’t tents. They’re still not tents. They’re makeshift shelters with bed sheets or plastic bag sheets. The ones outside sleep on the floor. They’re lucky [if] they get a carpet or a mat. There was one bathroom at the time for about 200 people that they have to share. And inside, the hallways of the hospital were also made into shelters. There was hardly any room to walk, and there’s children running around everywhere. It’s important to remember all these people were not homeless. They all had homes that were destroyed. They’re all displaced people that took shelter in the hospital.
So that’s the kind of mass chaos that I encountered initially, and then I was told that every time there’s a bomb, give it about 15 minutes and the mass casualties come. That was the other thing that at the time shocked me: What we’d been seeing livestreamed on Instagram, on social media or whatever, I actually saw myself and it was worse than I can imagine. I saw scenes that were horrific that I’d never witnessed before and I never want to see again. You have a mother walking in holding her 8, 9-year-old, skinny — because they’re all starving — boy who’s dead, he’s cold and dead and [the mother is] screaming, asking for someone to check his pulse and everybody’s busy in the mass chaos. So that was kind of my initial welcoming scene when I entered Khan Younis the first time.
{...}
What I saw — I’m an eye surgeon, an eye plastic surgeon, and so I saw the classic, what I penned “the Gaza shrapnel face,” because in an explosive scenario, you don’t know what’s coming. When there’s an explosion, you don’t go like this [cover your face], you kind of actually, in fact, open your eyes. And so shrapnel’s everywhere. It’s a well-known fact that the Israeli forces are experimenting [with] weapons in Gaza to boost their weapon manufacturing industry. Because if a weapon is battle-tested, it’s more valuable, isn’t it? It’s got a higher value. So basically they’re using these weapons, these missiles that purposely, intently create these large shrapnel fragments that go everywhere. And they cause amputations that are unusual.
Most amputations occur at the weak points, the elbow or the knee, and so they’re better tolerated. But these [shrapnel fragments] are causing mid-thigh, mid-arm amputations that are more difficult, more challenging, and also the rehabilitation afterward is also more challenging. Also these shrapnels [are] unlike a bullet wound. A bullet wound goes in and out; there’s an entry and exit point. Shrapnel stays there. So you gotta take it out. So the injuries I saw were — I mean, I saw people with their eyes blown apart. And when I was there, and this is my experience, I treated all children when I was there the first time. It was kids that [were aged] 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 15, and 16, and 17 were the ones that I treated. And their eyes unfortunately had to be removed. They had shrapnel in their eye sockets that I had to remove and, of course, remove the eye. There’s many patients, many children who had shrapnel in both their eyes. And you can only do so much because right now, because of the aid blockade and because of the destruction of most of Gaza, there’s no equipment available to take shrapnel that’s in the eye out. And so we just leave them alone and they eventually go blind.
{...}
I was on the ground, I toured the refugee camps, I went around Rafah, I saw, and if there’s an Israeli invasion, I can’t emphasize enough how catastrophic it’s going to be. It’ll be mass killing, mass destruction, because all these figures come in, 50 dead, 100 wounded. But what people don’t realize is, being wounded is a death sentence. Being wounded in this environment with no health care system, completely collapsed, is a death sentence. And the wounded often will lose everybody, like all family members, so they have no supports, especially children, have nobody left to take care of them, not even aunts and uncles. It will be catastrophic. I don’t know what to say to the world to stop an impending invasion. You’ve got to rein this prime minister of Israel in. You got to do something to stop this stupid invasion that he still wants to do, because it’ll be catastrophic.
{...}
I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.
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raeathnos · 11 months
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#can’t tell if my parents are being exhausting to deal with because they’re boomers or if that’s just how they are 🙃#or maybe it’s a bit of both#anyways I’m once again at my wits end#my dad is lamenting about how he’ll never get to be a grandfather now that I have the surgery to get my tubes removed scheduled and like#you were never gonna be a grandfather anyways?#I have never wanted children+I have a medical condition that makes pregnancy/birth potentially fatal+I couldn’t afford them even if I wanted#and that’s just the tip of the iceberg#but yeah woe is you#your only kid isn’t willing to sacrifice their life to attempt to give something I don’t even want#my moms not much better#for years when I was younger she was nasty about the whole not wanting kids thing#but then a bunch of her friends had grandkids and now all they do is watch them because childcare is expensive#and she’s like oh I wouldn’t want to watch them so I support your decision to not have kids#which is hollow because it’s still about her- she only supports it because it’s what she wants#and the whole kid thing is a very touchy subject for me#I’ve known since I was like 5 that I didn’t want kids and no one has respected that choice my entire life and I’m 32 now#so I have a tolerance of about zero when people start shit with that#which they’ve been#my husband is going on a work trip and they’re also being weird about that#he asked if my dad could drive him cause like we have one car and don’t really want to leave it parked in Philly#and both of my parents are just like they don’t want to help#and my dad kinda agreed but then he was like well you need to pay me back the gas money#my parents are fine financially we’re poor as fuck#so my mil agreed to take him but like#I would never fucking ask them to reimburse me for gas money when I drive them places#but it doesn’t go both ways apparently#I’m so fucking tired and I just want to leave#hoping to go house hunting in March and then however long it takes to close and then we just have to find jobs and we’ll be outta here#I feel like I’ve spent my whole life wanting to escape to run away#and freedom is so fucking close and so far away at the same time and I just want to cry
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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How do you think Adam and Lucifer would be as romantic rivals??
threes a crowd if you’re a coward
[i], [ii]
• First things first, it’s deadass funniest beef in history
• Adam lost to Lucifer twice, which is bad enough on its own, and now they’ve both laid eyes on the same person!? Fuck that, he’s not losing this time
• In theory, Lucifer doesn’t see Adam as a threat. It’s not until he sees you chatting with Heaven’s First Man that the sickening, all too familiar feeling of envy begins to rise in him. He hasn’t lost before and he doesn’t plan on starting now!
• You cannot keep up with the amount of gifts they give you. It’s obvious they’re both trying to outshine the other, giving flashier and shinier items that you have no use for. Did you realize you stomped on their hearts when you put your foot down?
• Secretly, you keep one of the more meaningful gifts from each of them
• Adam made you a mixtape that he of course starred in. “Lute helped,” He admitted almost bashfully. The final song is different from the rest; softer and more genuine. He named it after you
• Lucifer gave you a duck— “But this is no ordinary duck, my dear!” He wagged a finger in the air, nervously darting his eyes across your face like he was expecting ridicule. Instead of quaking when squeezed, the duck he gave you shouted positive phrases in Lucifer’s voice. Things like “Today will be great!” or “You’ve totally got this!”
• You don’t tell them that you listen to both at least once a day. It would only give them fuel for this little pissing match
• You should have known banning excessive gifts wouldn’t stop these two. They’re fucking stubborn
• If Lucifer asks to cook you breakfast, Adam asks to take you to dinner. If Adam wants you to come to his rock concert, Lucifer wants to give you a private show with his violin. If Lucifer wants to take you for a flight, well, Adam can fly higher!
• They drive you crazy. You drove them crazy first
• After an emotional night with both Adam and Lucifer— it was supposed to only be the latter but Lucifer crashed Adam’s date yesterday, so he proclaimed to be returning the favor— you were too tired (and weirdly happy?) to make a proper exit
• You planted a kiss on Lucifer’s cheek, then Adam’s, then announced that you were retiring to your bed. Closing the door behind you, you realized what you’d done. They were stunned to silence for exactly 60 seconds
“I got a kiss first.”
“I got a kiss last, that means I’m winning.”
“Have you ever heard the phrase coming in dead last?”
“First is the worst, you fucking—“
“GET OFF MY PORCH!” You shouted from inside, still beet red from embarrassment
• Lucifer and Adam wished you a good night and promised to see you tomorrow
• Damnit. You smiled hearing that. You couldn’t wait
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