#but it's been a year and i'm still thinking about it and keeping my eyes open in case i meet the right people to make music with
Text
Say it Again
Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).
AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!
The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.
The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.
And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.
♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well
A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.
In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.
A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.
Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.
Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.
♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell
When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.
While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.
♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender
The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.
♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪
Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.
A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.
♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone
But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.
And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.
♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe
But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.
♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal
It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-
I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.
♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender
I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.
I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.
♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown
But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.
♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see
The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.
We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.
♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown
I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.
♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around
The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a methapor for something else.
After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.
It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.
Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.
Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.
The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.
♪ There's a place where lovers go
To cry their troubles away ♪
The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.
There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.
♪ And they call it Lonesome Town
Where all the broken hearts stay ♪
It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.
Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.
Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.
♪ You can buy a dream or two
To last you all through the years ♪
'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.
♪ And the only price you pay
Is a heart full of tears ♪
He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.
♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town
To cry my troubles away ♪
The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.
♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town
To cry my troubles away ♪
A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.
♪ In a Town of broken dreams
The streets are filled with regret ♪
I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'
♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town
I can learn to forget ♪
The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.
He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'
'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.
'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.
'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.
It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.
'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.
His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.
♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town
I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.
♪ I can learn to forget
The last notes of the song died out.
He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'
♪ Only you
The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.
♪ Can do, make this world seem right
He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.
♪ Only you
Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.
♪ Can do, make the darkness bright
'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.
♪ Only you and you alone
The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.
He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.
♪ Can thrill me like you do
But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.
♪ And fill my heart with only love for you
They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.
A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'
♪ Oh, only you
'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.
Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.
♪ Can do, make all this change in me
They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.
'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.
"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.
♪ For its true
It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.
I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.
♪ You are my destiny
A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.
♪ When you hold my hand
My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.
♪ I understand the magic that you do
He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.
♪ You're my dream come true
The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'
♪ My dream come true
Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'
♪ Oh-oh, only you
He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'
♪ Can do, make all this change in me
Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.
Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'
'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.
A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.
Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'
And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.
'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.
Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'
And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.
His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.
'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.
He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.
I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-
'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.
Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.
'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.
No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.
'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.
'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.
And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.
'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.
I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.
His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.
'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.
'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.
♪ We'll meet again
Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.
♪ Don't know where, don't know when
My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.
♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day
The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.
I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.
'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.
'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'
I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.
Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.
#fallout#fallout imagine#fallout smut#fallout fanfic#cooper howard smut#cooper howard#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x female reader#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard fanfic#cooper howard imagine#the ghoul smut#fallout x reader#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul fanfic#the ghoul imagine
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too young to know it gets better * fem!driver
there has to be someone out there that can snap her out of it, right?
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: HI AFTER THIS THERE's one left and i promise that's not AS angsty as this one and i'm thinking of adding one or two more bonus chapters?? lolsie but idk we'll see!
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
rockster has disconnected.
that’s the notification that had brought logan and oscar together some random afternoon. they stand in the confinements of the elevator in silence, not a single word uttered since they’d met one another in the lobby after sending a simple text out.
but they know what they’re here for.
logan hadn’t moved that fast in concern for her, dating back 3 years ago when mick had supposedly texted him about marrying his crush in vegas. he had sprinted 2 blocks from his apartment building to hers in the span of a couple of minutes.
and oscar had been running errands with lily prior to getting the notification. when she’d noticed her boyfriend staring down at his phone with distress all over his face, she’d immediately pushed him towards the exits to attend to the girl. she’s also a close friend, so she notices.
if you asked oscar, he’s been worried for months. but with her tendency to keep rejecting his initiation for small talk, it’s difficult to try and find the words to try and pry a confession out of her. but this disconnection from an application they’ve had for years raises red flags that they didn’t even know were possible.
“we’re not overreacting, right?” oscar mutters as they step out of the elevator at her floor.
logan nods, lips pressed into a thin line as he counts the steps he takes down the familiar hallway. “she dropped kidnapper off at my apartment like a week and a half ago. i haven’t heard from her since.”
oscar turns to him. “you’ve heard from her?”
“barely,” logan grimaces with a shake of his head, eyes trained on the hallway. “i invited her in for snacks but she declined and left immediately.”
“i haven’t seen or heard from her since the summer break began.”
“she hasn’t been picking up my calls either.” he turns to oscar. “that’s weird, right?”
logan almost wants to laugh at their conversation. if he didn’t consider that their best friend was the person at stake, he would have laughed the loudest he’s ever. they simply sounded like they were answering one another for copium in hopes that their best friend hasn’t lost her mind just yet.
when he unlocks the door to her apartment, they’re taken aback by the sight they’re immediately greeted with. and for logan, it’s whiplash — he’s only ever had fond memories of this apartment. to find it absolutely thrashed almost breaks his heart a little bit.
in his mind, he can hear the girl always scolding him for being messy when they were living together.
the curtains, typically letting the sun seep into the room, are drawn in to block the light out. the floor is littered with her things and there’s a chair toppled over on the ground. a picture frame on the entertainment system beneath the tv is faced down against the counter and if logan can recall perfectly, it’s their picture from when they were kids.
“what happened in here?” oscar mutters, stepping around the items of stray pieces of clothing on the ground. “should we call someone? do you think someone broke into her apartment?”
“let me call her and see if she’s alright,” logan sighs, fishing for his phone in his back pocket.
he hadn’t expected the situation to be so concerning. have they really let her run rampant on her own all this time?
he dials her number, just about to press the call button when a lock clicks and a door opens.
the girl, albeit slightly unrecognisable at first, steps out of her bedroom. she’s still in her pyjamas, cheeks wet and eyes puffy with her hair in a messy ponytail talling apart on her shoulder.
“who- rocky?”
she flinches back at the voice, catching her off-guard. she sighs tiredly as she pushes her hair out of her face, wiping her cheeks dry on the sleeve of her pyjamas. “what are you guys doing here”
“what are we- when did you get back?” logan tilts his head in confusion. he gestures towards the mess around them, “and what happened? have you been crying?”
she sighs again, eyes fluttering as she turns to look away from them. “you guys should really go. it’s not a good time right now,” she says softly, gesturing them towards the front door of her apartment.
“we can stay and help you clean everything up,” oscar mutters, mirror logan’s stare at the ground, “we’re just curious. you don’t typically let your apartment get this messy.”
“mate,” another sigh comes with her pinching the bridge of her nose, “it’s really not a good time right now.”
oscar’s head snaps up. “are you avoiding us?”
she stares at him tiredly. “what? no, it’s just-”
“you are, aren’t you?” oscar cuts her off, feeling an overwhelming wave of frustration takes over him. months of what feels like a one-sided friendship finally catches up to him.
every single rejection of plans reminds him how neglected their friendship has been, every time she’s ‘forgotten’ to look for an ice cream parlour makes his blood boil. it is such a one-sided friendship as of late and it feels like she’s no longer honouring the years of friendship they have.
“but why? did we do something? did we say something to upset you?”
she slouches her shoulders. she takes a deep breath to recompose herself. “please just go,” she croaks out, feeling a knot in her throat at the realisation of where this entire conversation might be heading. “not now.”
“but what is it? is it us?” oscar frowns. “at least tell us before you start ignoring us.”
she clenches her jaw as her patience runs thin. and she tries to hold on to the last string of patience she has. all these past months, she’s tried her damnest not to be this way to anyone that’s involved in racing.
just to save some face, to show that she’s not completely lost her mind. apart from the fact that they’re all practically colleagues, they’re also her friends.
but as oscar continues to edge her on for an explanation for her behaviour, it’s increasingly getting more difficult to keep her outbust at bay.
“rocky,” oscar calls out to grab her attention. “what is it? i’m so tired of you beating around the bush; if we did something to upset you, speak up. it’s not fair — what you’re doing. you’re cancelling plans, you’re bailing, you’re leaving us hanging… we’ve known each other half of our lives. you can’t just do this.”
logan shifts uncomfortable where he stands. “do you hate us?”
she tries to stop herself, really. but she should be allowed one outburst in her life.
“yes, yes, i actually do!” she admits, venom lacing her words as she starts to explain herself. “it sucks. i’m so fucking jealous of all of you right now. i’ve tried to feel happy for you guys but honestly?” a dry laugh passes her lips, tears falling out of her eyes. “i resent all of the success you’ve found this year.
because you’re doing great and i’m not. it’s annoying because i should be doing great too. because between every single one of us, no one’s worked as hard as i have to get to where i am today. you’re my best friends but i can’t get myself to be happy for you and i hate myself even more for it.”
oscar blinks blankly at her. her chest heaves as she finishes speaking, fists clenched by her side as she starts to cry a little harder.
she’s swallowed down every single drop of resentment she feels towards her friends, all doing well while she’d sunk deeper into the trenches of her own demise.
speaking ill of them that one time they achieved a podium without her haunted her for weeks on end. she couldn’t get herself to speak to them like she hadn’t spent 20 minutes speaking behind their backs about how much she hates that they’re on podiums without her.
“it was easier to avoid you than say things i can’t say.”
it was truly one of the last times she spend with them; the guilt of speaking on them ate her up. she’s apologise out of the blue and they’d have no idea what she was talking about.
admitting it now feels like their friendship would truly never be the same. like this is the one fight that’s been waiting to happen after their years of friendship and would lead to her eventual loneliness.
but she doesn’t expect oscar to start laughing. “are you fucking stupid?”
“excuse me, what?” she scoffs, throwing her head back slightly.
logan sighs next to socar. “come on, don’t be like that. she’s clearly having a hard time right now,” he mutters, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
oscar turns to logan, pointing a hand over to where the girl stand by her bedroom door. “really, logan? you don’t think she’s being so mind-numbingly stupid right now?” he glances at her then immediately looks away. “she’s so insensitive right now. the last thing she should have done is isolate herself but she’s gone ahead and done exactly that.”
oscar huffs and turns back to her with a frown. “you would think that she would fall back on the people who understand her the most. and you still don’t believe she’s being stupid?”
logan sighs again. “oscar.”
“you don’t fucking get it!” she screams.
“we’re the ones who don’t get it? out of everyone you know, we’re the 2 people who understand the most!”
he has a point, she starts to think. but it’s not the same — they’re not the same. their predicaments are different.
they never had to go through and be on the receiving end of words that tried to tear her down as she grew up.
“no, you don’t!” she says with slight amusement. “you’re oscar piastri. everyone’s kissed the ground you’ve walked on; you came into the sport and everyone’s been acting like you’re a prodigy changing the course of the sport. you don’t know what it’s like to be this way!”
“and you thought that pushing away every single person who wants to help you is the solution to your problems?” oscar snorts. then it hits him. “is that why i haven’t seen matt around lately? you drove him away? finally cracked, didn’t he?”
“you don’t know the half of it,” she scoffs. there’s no need for oscar to remind her of the cardinal sin she’d acted upon to drive matt away.
she lives with the repercussions of it every single day: coming back to an empty apartment. just an apartment, a shell of what used to feel like home.
“all of this over a bad couple races?” oscar rolls his eyes and another mean scoff passes his lips. he was unaware how bad it had gotten for her. “how immature. there’s more to fucking life than your position in f1.”
she sucks in a deep breath. “you’ll never understand.”
“oh, i do,” oscar points out with a small grin. “i grew up with you, rocky, i know how you operate. you break down the minute you’re not the best at something. you get scared and hide away when you don’t feel like you’re on the top of your game.”
“what do you know about what i feel?” she tilts her head with a small smile. “that’s so fucking pretentious of you to say so, oscar.”
“you’ve already made it to the top.” he picks his feet up and starts to walk over to her, shoving away logan’s hand that tries to stop him from threading any further. “it’s unnecessary that you’re still this hard on yourself. you’ve proved everyone wrong by making it this far. there are people on your side,” he jabs a finger into her shoulder and she stumbles back, “there are people who miss you- we miss you!
“do you even realise how lucky you have it right now? you’ve got sebastian helping to push your narrative because he believes in you. do you think everyone’s got that luxury?” he points back at logan. “do you think he had that luxury fight for his life in this sport? did that even cross your mind or are you just so far into your head?”
“oscar,” logan repeats. oscar glances back at logan who has his lips pressed into a thin line, unamused by the scenario he’s choosing to bring up. “don’t even go there.”
but oscar ignores him. oscar turns back to the younger girl and grabs her shoulders, squeezing them firmly as he draws a soft sob from her.
“i thought that because you weren’t entirely alone, it was okay that we take a step back and stopped meddling with your life. i thought you were going to be fine; i thought you knew ho to handle yourself and continue to keep your feet on the ground.”
she shakes her head, bottom lip pouted out. “you don’t-”
“i don’t understand?” oscar scoffs. “how far into your head have you gone to push yourself into a corner? do you realise that you’re in the trenches because you put yourself in there? have you looked in the mirror and actually,” oscar shakes her, “looked at yourself?”
and it seems that something finally clicked in her head. she stares blankly up at him, tears finally running down her cheeks. her chest heaves with constant sobs as she no longer can find the words in her head to prove her point.
“okay, that’s enough,” logan mutters, yanking oscar away from the girl. he shoves the younger boy towards the kitchen. “go and get some air and drink some water — you’re scaring her.”
oscar sniffles, wiping his eyes and stumbles towards the kitchen. he spares her one last glare before turning his back on her. “whatever.”
logan can only sigh when he looks down her head. she’s got her head in her hands as she sobs. she lifts her eyes to look up at him and scoffs. “what? do you have something to say to me? about how deranged i’ve gotten?”
“i don’t know what got into you to think we wouldn’t understand how you were feeling,” he says softly, tears flooding his eyes.
it’s difficult to watch someone you think is so strong be half the person you watched her grow into. he pulls her into his arms, squeezing her into a tight hug and rests his chin on her head.
“i’m sorry,” she cries in staggered breaths into his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know. i didn’t-”
“it’s okay,” he mutters, squeezing her tighter. “we’re here.” he pulls away slightly and cups her cheeks, wiping her tears away with a small grin. “we’ve got you, okay? we’re here now.”
she nods through her tears, “okay.”
“we’ve got you, i promise,” logan hums, pulling her in again. he sways gently as he feels her sobs slowly dying out. “you’ll be okay.”
logan turns around at the sound of things shuffling about. oscar has a trash bag in his hand, picking up empty bottles on the ground and throwing them into the bag silently. she pulls her head back and watches oscar slowly navigate her littered apartment.
sensing their stares, oscar glances over his shoulder. “are you going to help me or are you just going to let me do this by myself?”
she glances up at logan with eyebrows raised and in return, he shrugs with a small smile.
for the next 2 hours, they clean up her apartment in silence. no music, not an utter of another word, just a heavy silence pushing down on their shoulders as they shift about her apartment like a well-oiled machine.
oscar throws his dirty piece of tissue into the bin right by the coffee table and sighs, leaning back into the couch he’s sat on. he’s in a single seater while logan and her share the bigger couch.
her apartment finally looks the way they all remember it. pristine with all her things neatly slotted into their respective slots.
oscar hasn’t spoken to her much since he’d gotten the bright idea to start helping her clean the apartment for her. he’d briefly asked her if she wanted pizza for dinner, to which she simply shrugged and said okay, then asked which toppings she wanted. then they returned to their silence.
he picks up her can of pepsi, popping it open before extending his hand over to her. she turns stiffly and looks at his offer with a blank stare. “oh, thank you.”
she takes it into her hands and glances over at oscar who turns away from her immediately to grab logan’s drink next. “i’m sorry,” she says first, just barely above a whisper. her head is dropped slightly, eyes trained on the slicer of pizza in her hands.
truthfully, she’s not very sure how to apologise for her behaviour. while she’s broken down over things said about her and her progress is a sport that barely had a spot for her, it’s never gotten this bad.
she hadn’t even realised that they still cared with their own lives now.
“no, i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, turning his head to her. “that we didn’t foster an environment where you felt like you could come to use and be honest about how you’re really feeling. you did it for me all the time when we first started out and i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.”
“it’s not even your fault,” she sighs shakily. “i pushed away everyone who tried to extend their hands out to me to help. oscar’s right.”
oscar sighs audibly, sinking into his seat. he turns his head to look at her and purses is lips. “i’m sorry i called you stupid,” oscar says, “we grew up together… i just thought that if you didn’t feel right, we’d still be the people you know you don’t have to put up a facade with. be brutally, disgustingly and painfully honest with.”
“i really didn’t wanna worry anybody,” she frowns. “you have your own lives now, you know? i thought i could handle it on my own.”
“don’t even say that,” oscar turns to her with furrowed eyebrows, “you’re practically my little sister — i’ve driven you to the hospital after you writhed in pain from dislocating your shoulder playing volleyball. i’ve beaten up guys from school for you so of course you’ll always have a place in our lives.”
“i didn’t want you to know that i was a sore loser,” she shrugs with a small grin. she gestures towards logan. “he took our first 2 years in the sport so gracefully. it was embarrassing that i couldn’t do the same when it was my turn.”
“what?” logan scoffs. “you seriously think i wasn’t jealous seeing you guys being glorified by everyone? i felt like shit watching you guys get accepted in the sport with open arms and make new friends without me.”
he gives her a knowing stare when she turns her head to look at him. “i lvoe you, but i seriously despised you so much for being better than me at everything. i felt like the smallest man who’s ever lived when i was next to you. and dude… we were always together.”
she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i didn’t know that… i’m sorry…”
“but at the end of the day, you were always there for me,” logan frowns, poking her arm gently. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the same level of comfort to not spiral this bad. the only reason i hadn’t was because you were there for me all the time.”
“well i’m sorry that i was so mean to you,” oscar sighs. “but you know you needed it, right?”
“i know,” she shrugs, “thanks.”
“i don’t wanna be the one to bring it up, though,” logan hums as he reaches forward for another slice, “but what happened with matt?”
she chuckles with a soft snort. she lifts her head and puffs her cheeks out. “i wasn’t very nice to him when everything was falling apart,” tears flood her eyes, “he called for a break. but honestly, i think he wants to break up with me.”
logan raises an eyebrow. “he asked for a break, didn’t he? that’s not a breakup, mate.”
“you weren’t there. i wouldn’t want to be with me either if i had to endure what he went through with me,” she admits with a sigh. she wipes her tears away from her eyes and smiles slightly. “i think he’s just trying to soften the blow.”
oscar laughs. he laughs the loudest and heartiest he’s ever since he’d bolted from lily while they were running errands together. “do you seriously think that?”
she blinks at oscar. “i thought we were done being mean to me, mate.”
“we are!” oscar beams, forcing himself to falter with his laughter. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to make you feel worse. but do you seriously think that matt — the guy who’s in your garage every single weekend, literally comes into the paddocks with ice cream for your entire team, texts logan and i to ask about things to surprise you with — wants to seriously break up with you?”
“well, you weren’t there,” she explains with a frown. “well, you were, once when i was crying in the paddocks. but i was so mean to him.”
“but a break isn’t a breakup,” oscar explains as he points at her knowingly. “you were arguably at your worst, i doubt that he wants to leave you when your mental was that bad. it happens, you know?”
“if he didn’t want to be with you, he would have broken up with you instead of asking for a break,” logan sighs, patting her on the shoulder. “just approach him.”
“i don’t know how to,” she admits, sliding down the couch to lie down slightly. “there’s no gesture big enough to makeup for the things i said… the way i treated him…”
“say you’re sorry,” oscar says with a small grin and a nod. “start there and i’m sure you guys can work it out from there, you know?”
“i’ll try.”
“okay, enough with this,” logan throws his head back with a grunt. “let’s go karting!” he stands up and smiles at her widely. “you sound like you need your edge back. i’ll even let you win this time.”
she scoffs, “as if i’d ever lose to you in equal machinery!”
“aw, she’s back! she’s fighting back now!” oscar cheers, hopping up as he claps his hands. “come on! then let’s get ice cream where we always get it! i haven’t been there in forever.”
“okay, okay!” she laughs, watching the 2 of them jump to their feet and start to clear out her table. she feels a warmth in her chest watching them in her living room. “just let me shower, okay? we kinda cleaned a lot tonight. i won’t take less than 15 minutes, i promise!”
there’s a chorus of heavy sighs and arms thrown in the air. “we might as well cancel karting.”
“but you take forever to get ready!” oscar jokes with a frown. “if you pass 15 minutes, you’re paying for ice cream.”
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matthew knies smut — losing ur v card to him
[ helping hand ] m. knies
paring : Matthew Knies x fem!reader
summary : Matthew helps his best friend out after she asks him to take her virginity
warning(s) : smut ! loss of virginity, virgin!reader, light dirty talk, slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it tbh) oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex, use of pet names during sex (pretty girl, baby, etc.), multiple orgasms
author’s note : felt like writing something cute so i decided to tackle this request and make it as cute as i could. this is my first time writing for kniesy so if it’s bad then pls tell me lol
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Being a 20-year-old virgin sucks. Every time she tries to hook up with a guy, she blurts out that she’s “never done this before” and it scares him away. Needless to say, she is getting very tired of being a virgin. She's loves sex, but she's never gone all the way with a guy.
Tonight was just another reminder that she's never been fucked. She thought that after her date, he'd take her back to his apartment and she'd finally lose her virginity. Then he said that his mom was going to be home soon just as things started getting heated, right after she had said that she's never gone all the way.
It's a tiring pattern.
She's frustrated, and frustration means stomping up to her longtime best friend's Toronto apartment a little before eleven. She pounds her fist on Matthew's door then waits. There are light footsteps behind the door before it's pulled open.
Matthew looks like he just woke up, and she feels bad. His Toronto hockey shirt is a little wrinkled and he's wearing sweats. His hair is a complete disaster. "Did I wake you?" she questions.
He yawns, but shakes his head no. "I was just closing my eyes," he tells her. "I thought you were out on a date or something. Why are you here?"
"You'll never guess what happened," she sighs as she walks past him into his apartment. "I did it again."
Matthew laughs and shuts the door behind her. "You need to stop," he comments. "You're never going to lose it if you keep telling guys that you haven't gone all the way. You're twenty."
"I know!" she groans as she plops down onto his couch. "It's like a get scared or something and it just comes out. I wish I could just get it over with and then it won't come out."
He sits beside her and she looks up at him. "Don't rush it," he tells her. "It's not all that anyway. Just wait until you find someone you trust and genuinely like."
A light bulb flicks on in her head. She sits up and turns her body to face Matthew. "Will you?"
"Will I what?"
"Sleep with me so I'm not a virgin anymore," she finishes. He raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to object. "I mean, I trust you with everything I have. You're my best friend. You're not bad looking. I've known you for years, Matthew. I'd be okay if you did this for me. It wouldn't change anything with us."
Matthew thinks about it. She knows by the way he sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair. "You're sure about this?" he questions. "Because I don't want to do this then-"
She rolls his eyes in frustration and cups his jaw. She pulls him into a kiss, and it surprises her when she feels her heart beat out of her chest when her lips meet his. Even Matthew is thrown off by the kiss. He immediately pulls back. She drops her hands to her lap.
"I'm not going to regret it, Matt," she tells him as her eyes meet his. Have his eyes always been this pretty and blue? She's never been this close to see how blue they are. "I promise. It might bring us closer as friends if we do this. I'm not going to stop being your friend because you slept with me."
He still doesn't seem very convinced. "This is going to change us," he tells her. "No matter what. I just want both of us to be ready for that."
With a nod, her eyes flicker down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. "I know," she replies. "Just ... please. I'll never ask you for anything ever again if you do this for me."
Matthew searches her face for any signs that she doesn't want this. He won't find any. If she's going to lose her virginity to anyone, she wouldn't mind losing it to her best friend. She wants this.
He doesn't say "okay" or anything like that. All he does is grab her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If this is what you really want then I'll do it," he says to her, voice slightly higher than a whisper.
"I really want this," she confirms. "Seriously."
His eyes drop to her lips before he leans in and gently presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter shut. Her heart beats out of her chest with how soft and gently he kisses her.
The kisses don't immediately turn heated and needy. Matthew makes sure of that. When they do though, she climbs onto his lap in the red minidress that she's wearing. She straddles his thighs and wraps her arms loosely around his neck. Matthew's hands drop to the bare skin on her thighs.
Her heels clatter to the carpeted floor beneath them with a thud. Her fingers find a home and curl in his locks. She tugs gently and a soft noise comes from Matthew. She smiles into the kiss that follows and tucks this piece of information away for later.
She traps his bottom lip between her teeth and pulls back. She watches it snap back into place. Matthew looks up at her and she sees that his eyes have darkened a bit. There's a dark fire between them and she can tell he's trying to hold himself back.
"Pretend it's not me," she tells him as her hands drag down his neck and chest until they come to a rest on his torso. She play with the hem of his t-shirt. "I can tell, Matt. You're holding back because it's me."
Matthew shakes his head. "I'm holding back because I want to do this right," he replies. "It's not because it's you. I want to make sure that it's perfect for you."
"Then don't hold back," she whispers to him as she attaches her lips to his jaw right under his ear. "It'll be perfect no matter what."
A shaky sigh passes Matthew's kiss-bruised lips. He kisses the swell of her ear and she keeps working at his jaw.
Before she realizes what's happening, Matthew slides his hands to the back of her thighs and stands up. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "It's insane how easily you were able to just pick me up like that," she comments.
"I work out everyday," Matthew replies as he makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. "Sometimes twice a day. I lay hits on grown men that weigh as much as I do or heavier for a living. I hope that I can lift someone up that is nearly a foot shorter than me and weighs less than what I bench."
She can't contain the giggle that rises in her throat as he crosses the threshold into his room. "That's kind of hot of you, Matt," she admits. "I mean, I don't know how you're single when you bench more than I weigh."
He kicks the door shut behind him and gently sets her down so she's flat on her feet. She sees the flush in his cheeks despite the dimly lit room. She smiles and gets on her tiptoes to instigate another kiss. Matthew has to lean down to kiss her because of the heigh difference between them. His hands rest on her cheeks and she rests against the door.
They stand there for what feels like an eternity. She's almost certain that the lace panties she has on under the dress are ruined. She hasn't be able to stop thinking about Matthew's fingers on her thighs while they were in the couch, not to mention the fact that he was able to pick her up with almost no effort.
Her fingers curl around the hem of his t-shirt and she pulls at it. "Off," she mumbles against his lips. "Matt, please. Off."
The kiss breaks and Matthew reaches down to pull the fabric over his head. Her eyes rake his body and it's very obvious that he works out every day. Her fingers trace his abs and she bites her bottom lip.
Okay, maybe he's more attractive than she's let herself admit. She's never really allowed herself to look at him like this. She's never let herself admire him like this.
Matthew hooks his fingers under the very thin straps that sit on her shoulders. She looks up at him and notices how focused he is on his actions. He pulls the straps off her shoulders and lets the dress fall so it pools at her ankles. She's in her strapless bra and matching panties. She notices Matthew's eyes drink her in.
She puts her hands on his chest and gently pushes him in the direction of his bed. She kicks the dress off so she can follow him. As soon as Matthew sits back on the bed, she crawls onto his lap. Her knees bracket his thighs. She leans in and ravishes his mouth with hers. One of his hands finds its way to her curls and he holds the back of her head so she can’t break the heated kiss.
Without realizing she does it, she rolls her hips against his. He hums and his other hand comes down on her bare waist.
A surge of confidence overcomes her and she reaches behind her. She unhooks her bra and lets the red lace fall between them. She tosses it somewhere at the same time Matthew breaks the kiss.
Her entire body shakes with nerves.
It’s just Matthew. They’ve been friends since his first year at Minnesota. Best friends since his sophomore year. She visited him earlier in the season and fell in love with Canada so she moved into an apartment down the street from him.
She can do this.
Matthew lifts her head up and says, “I’ve got you. Okay? I have you. Whatever you want.”
“I want you,” she tells him. “Please. I need you.”
He moves back on the bed and flips them over so he hovers over her. Her curls create a halo around her head. Matthew thumbs her swollen lips and trails it down over her chin, over her chest, between her breasts, and down her stomach until his fingers rest at the waistband of her panties. Goosebumps follow his fingers down her upper body.
She can feel the bulge in his pants so she bucks her hips up to grind her clothed core against the bulge. “Shit,” he gasps. “You can’t just do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll come before either of us are ready.”
She lets out a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” she teases.
“Shut up,” he mumbles before shutting her up himself with a deep kiss. She smiles and hooks her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.
She pushes his sweatpants down and over his ass. He helps her out and kicks them off.
When she tries to put her hand in his boxers, Matthew stops her. He breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. I’m going to make sure you feel good and make sure you’re comfortable, okay?” he says to her.
“Okay,” she replies, voice barely above a whisper.
With her permission, Matthew hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the thin fabric off her body. He tosses them to the floor and she lets her knees fall open.
Matthew attaches his lips to her jaw, then slowly trails his lips down her body. He makes a quick stop when he gets to her breasts. He gives each one a little attention and she lets out a soft noise. She bites her lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises.
He lies on his stomach and throws her legs over his broad shoulders. She watches as he presses soft kisses to her leg trailing from her inner knee and up her inner thigh. He stops right before he gets to her core.
“Already so wet for me,” he comments. She nods and grabs a pillow to rest her head on so she doesn’t get a crick in her neck.
That’s when Matthew slides a finger through her soaked folds. A whine passes her lips and she looks down at him with her eyes. He teases her entrance and she gasps, “I- Matthew. Don’t tease please. Do something.”
“Didn’t think you were a begger, pretty girl,” he replies. She shoots him a glare and he laughs.
She’s about to say something to him when he wraps his lips around her clit. “Oh my- fuck” is what comes out of her mouth instead. Matthew hums and sends vibrations through her entire body. He slowly pushes a finger into her and her back arches off the bed.
Matthew’s free hand slides up her body and cups one of her tits. She didn’t pick Matthew to be a boob guy, but today is full of surprises.
Soft pants pass her lips as Matthew keeps using his mouth and fingers to bring her closer to an orgasm. He adds a second finger and her hands fly to his hair. Her breathing has gotten extremely labored and soft noises consistently pass her lips.
He’s so careful with his movements, so precise. He knows what he’s doing, and she’s not at all surprised that he does. She didn’t realize just how much he knew. Despite never actually hooking up before, it’s like he knows her entire body and what she likes.
Once a third finger is inside of her, Matthew curls his fingers in a “come here” motion. She gasps and a knot forms in the pit of her stomach. “Matt,” she groans. “I- Matthew.”
“Let me hear you,” he tells her. “Wanna hear you when you come on my fingers. Can you do do that for me?”
She nods and hums. “Yeah,” she breathes out.
“Go ahead, pretty girl,” Matthew says. “Come for me. I can feel how close you are.”
His lips are back on her clit and she’s coming seconds later.
Her back arches off the mattress as her walls clench around his fingers. Her body turns into jelly as he fingers her through what’s probably the strongest orgasm she’s ever had. She swears she blacks out.
Her breathing is extremely labored as Matthew withdraws his fingers. She whimpers at the loss and watches him crawl up her body when her vision comes back. He smiles when he sees how out of it she probably looks.
Matthew peppers her cheek with soft kisses as she comes to.
“You okay?” he asks. “Can you do one more?”
“Mhm,” she hums. “Want you inside me, Matt. Please. I need you.”
He captures her lips in a soft kiss and she groans when she tastes herself on his lips.
It’s a very quick kiss. Matthew reaches over into his bedside drawer and pulls out a tiny foil package. He puts it between his teeth as he pushes his boxers off his body. She bites her lip as Matthew’s dick pops out of the confines of the boxers.
She accidentally saw his dick one time before now, and it looked nothing like it does right now. “Jesus, Matt,” she gasps. “Is it gonna fit?”
Matthew laughs and slides the condom onto his dick. “I promise it’ll fit,” he tells her.
He hover over her between her legs. The tip of his dick lines up with her entrance and she shakes. Her heart races in her chest and she stares up at the pretty boy above her. “Slow,” she tells him. “Okay? I don’t know-”
“Tell me if you need me to stop or if it hurts,” he interrupts. “I’ll move at your pace, okay? I have you.”
She nods. “Go.”
Matthew slowly pushes into her. She gasps as the unfamiliar stretch and grasps onto his biceps. The deeper he goes, the more it hurts. She pushes through though and pain eventually turns into pleasure.
He moves so slow though that it’s almost painful. She wants him to ruin her but she wants to be able to walk in the morning. Whatever that will look like.
She reaches up and slides her hair into Matthew’s hair. His eyes lock with her as he bottoms out in her. Her lips are pressed in a line. “Okay?” he asks.
With a nod, she says, “I’m okay. Give me a second. You’re fucking big, Matt. Damn.”
He laughs. “That’s not my fault,” he replies. “Most women I hook up with like it.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, asshole,” she retorts. “I said I needed a second.”
Matthew laughs again and she pulls him down into a kiss to shut him up. He licks into her mouth and she groans.
Feeling ready, she rolls her hips. One of Matthew’s hands rests on her waist and he meets her movements.
It’s slow, but it feels good. He slowly but deeply thrusts into her. She moans into Matthew’s mouth and he swallows every noise. Her hands slide from his hair to his back. She gently digs her nails into his skin.
He speeds his movements up a bit and she throws her head back against the pillows. “Fuck,” she gasps. “God. Matt.”
“Okay, baby?” he asks. “Good to keep going?”
She nods. “Like you mean it,” she pants. Matthew’s smile reaches his ears.
Matthew throws one of her legs over his shoulder and is able to move deeper into her at the new angle. She cries out his name and he attaches his lips to her neck. He’s covering her entire body at this point. It’s not only his dick that’s big. Matthew himself is a bigger guy.
He slows his movements but continues to bury his cock in her. The knot forms again in the pit of her stomach.
“Matt, I-”
“Me too,” he interrupts. “This is about you. I’m not gonna come until you come on my cock, pretty girl.”
She feels tears in her eyes as she tries to keep herself from coming. It feels too good and she doesn’t want it to end yet.
Especially since this is probably the first and last time she gets this from Matthew. She wants it to last.
Matthew slides a hand between them and as soon as his fingers find her clit again, she comes.
His name is on her lips as he fucks her through what is definitely the strongest orgasm of her life. Her entire body shudders as she comes. Her vision goes white for a hot second and she completely melts against the mattress beneath her. Her legs fall to the bed.
He comes into the condom before he pulls out of her. They’re both panting messes as he ties off the condom and throws it out. She very lazily crawls under the covers and Matthew joins her.
There’s a comfortable silence between them as they both recover from their highs. She finally gains feeling back in all her extremities and looks over at him.
“Thank you,” she weakly says.
“For?”
“Doing that for me. It was fun. I enjoyed it.”
Matthew sits up in bed and leans back against the headboard just as she went to curl up next to him. “I should’ve said something before we did that,” he admits to her.
She sits up and holds the blankets under her arms to keep herself covered. “What?”
He bites his kiss-bruised bottom lip for a second. “I have feelings for you,” he confesses. “Genuine feelings for you and I feel guilty for saying yes before telling you that.”
A day full of surprises.
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel the same. There is a reason she asked him of all her friends to do this for her. She’s always known he was attractive, a genuine guy and an incredible hockey player.
She’s damn lucky that Matthew agreed to have sex with her.
Matthew looks terrified. She smiles and drops her head to his shoulder. “You should see the look on your face,” she laughs.
“I’m being serious,” he tells her.
“I know,” she replies. Her chin rests on his shoulder. “I like you too. Why do you think I asked you to do this and not someone else?”
He blinks. “I thought you were just tired of being a twenty year old virgin,” he flatly states.
“There was that but I wanted it to be you,” she admits. “I guess I was just shooting my shot.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Matthew laughs.
She crawls onto his lap and lays on him. “When do I get one of those cool jackets the wives and girlfriends have?”
“You want one?”
“I do,” she tells him as she looks up at him. “Is that okay? If I got one?”
Matthew smiles and nods. “I’ll get you one.”
༺═──────────────═༻
MASTERLIST
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#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey oneshot#hockey smut#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl oneshot#nhl smut#matthew knies#matthew knies x reader#matthew knies smut#zegrasdrysdale request
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I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.
"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.
"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."
I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.
"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.
Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."
Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.
"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."
Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins.
Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.
My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.
"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."
He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.
I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.
"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."
A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.
Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?
#mpreg#male pregnancy#mpregnancy#mpreg belly#mpreg birth#mpreg labor#mpreg kink#mpreg story#pregnant man#hombre embarazado#embarazo masculino#mpregdimension
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you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…
i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!
AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️
Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader
Warnings | language; gun violence
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.
More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.
You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.
The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.
“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”
“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”
“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”
“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”
“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”
“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”
“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.
You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed.
He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.
“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”
“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice.
“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”
“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”
“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”
“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”
“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”
“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”
“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”
“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”
“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”
You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”
You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.
“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”
“Darlin’-”
“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”
Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father. Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.
“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”
“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”
“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”
“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”
“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”
“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”
“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”
“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday. She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”
“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”
“Hmm?”
“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.
“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”
“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”
“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”
You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.
But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy.
“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”
“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down.
“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”
“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”
“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.
“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”
“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”
“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”
“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”
“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d be enjoying this, “but I will.”
“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground.
It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming.
Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.
“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”
“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”
Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.
“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head.
“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”
“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”
“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”
“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”
He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately.
Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.
You took it without hesitation.
#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout#fallout fic#fallout prime#walton goggins
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I've had a very fun and fruitful conversation with @allfearstofallto and she had some very strong reactions for a story about yandere Diluc and Tartaglia that has been marinating in my mind for a while now. I'll just give you a brief version of my idea.
You and the 11th Fatui Harbinger are to be wed. With your freedom stripped away from you and with your wedding date fast approaching, you are working tirelessly to escape the Harbinger's grasp.
However, even with your freedom stripped away, even if you have no autonomy on your own, there's an inkling in your heart in which you cannot hate your captor. He is far too kind and gentle towards you, the way in which he treats you makes your heart swell with a plethora of emotions.
But enough is enough.
You need to leave. Fast.
One evening, you act sweeter, more submissive than usual. Your fiancee eats it up and is delighted by this change in attitude. His happiness is evident because now things can proceed without a hitch. Don't worry darling, you won't be anywhere near his work. He'll keep you safe, fed and loved.
All he asks in return is to be in your heart. Love him. Love him, please. It's a hard request, a selfish one even, he knows this.
He can make it up to you. He can and he will.
He promises.
You kiss him in bed, telling him that you understand. Your eyes shift towards the hidden suitcase in the corner as you feel the drugs start to kick in. Tartaglia is fast asleep, and you finally taste the sweetness of freedom.
The man wakes up the next morning in a daze. The bed is empty and cold.
His heart shatters into a million pieces. He roars out your name like a wounded animal, his throat sore and bleeding from the pain.
He must find you.
Meanwhile, you made your way towards the City of Freedom.
You settle in, find a job, a place to live in. It's hard but you manage.
You ignore the lingering presence that you feel behind you when you're alone at night. You're making it all up, you keep telling yourself.
No one is following you.
One evening, you enter a cozy tavern. You order a drink and it is prepared by a handsome, albeit stoic bartender. You manage to get him to open up. He introduces himself as Diluc, the owner of the fine establishment in which you sat in.
How neat.
Due to various different factors, after a short while Diluc takes you in. He is patient and strict. It's an improvement.
You don't know about his ever growing obsession with you. You don't know about the endless sea of portraits he has of you. He keeps it all hidden well under wraps.
Regardless, Diluc is still only human. It's only natural that his jealousy would bubble up and rear in its ugly head from time to time.
Dawn Winery is in a way, forced to attend a massive social gathering. Diplomats from the North are everywhere and, of course, Tartaglia spots you in the crowd.
Even if his eyes were to be plucked out, he would always manage to recognize you.
Tensions rise and the danger of bloodlust reeks in the air. Much to his chagrin, Childe cannot simply just kill Diluc and be done with it.
He is being forced to play Mr Nice Diplomat.
Oh the horror, being stuck between these two.
Now, since this has the potential to be long as fuck, I was thinking of making it into a multiple part story. The best name I could come up with it so far was "A Song of Ice and Fire". I'm open to title names, if someone has better ideas. An important note to add would be that this would be a serious commitment for me as I haven't done a story like this in years. Chapter updates would probably take me a long time due to my job and potential lack of energy, but this idea has been in my brain for years now, which is a clear sign that I'm passionate about it. And, my question is - would you like for me to make this story come to life?
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hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖
ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏
sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx
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send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚
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#28: ...as a lie
ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.
Ian hasn’t slept in days.
It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.
His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.
Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.
Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.
Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.
He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?
The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?
Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.
Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?
He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.
The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?
He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?
Another clench: Indica
Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?
There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.
Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.
Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.
On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.
The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.
Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.
Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.
Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.
Jesus, he needs to sleep.
“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.
Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.
Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.
Wants him to stay the night.
Forever, maybe.
Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”
That’s the last thing Ian wants.
“Not tired,” he fibs.
Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”
It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.
“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”
Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”
Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.
#welp - throws whatever this is at you#alskfjalkj#i realized that both of my kisses are at the very end of the ficlet & aren't actually described#lolol#maybe my next attempt should be 1K words of just describing the kiss#no actual context needed#just tongues#anyway THANKS DEANNA I LOVE YOU DEANNA#shameless#shameless fanfiction#prompt fill#ian x mickey
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what does the grooming process look like for stellina and kep?
my 'process" for grooming is very much what i would call 'poor man's dog training':
get a silicone lick-mat
apply peanut butter very generously
slap that bad boy onto the front of the fridge/kitchen appliances at dog eye-level
groom while they're distracted
i start this process day 1 as puppies and continue it through their whole lives. should i actually be putting in the effort to actually train them to stand still and quietly for grooming without the need for food distraction? yes. do i? no i'm lazy.
or if you're asking about like, what grooming i'm actually doing:
hair: i do an all-over brush at least once a week (should do twice but again, lazy and not needed). takes like 20-30 mins. my 'schedule' for brushing is basically this:
red areas (behind ears, arm/legpits) are high-friction and very prone to matting. these you have to brush out at least once a week, no exceptions, or you will get mats. this is also very sensitive skin so it's good to desensitize them to brushing as much as you can.
yellow areas should be brushed at least once weekly to comb out any tangles and debris, but are less prone to matting.
and then the rest of them i'll brush through but that's about it, that part pretty much never tangles.
i normally just use a pin brush and slicker brush, and a metal comb for the yellow/red areas. sometimes an undercoat rake if they're very sheddy.
collies are 'dry' dogs - they don't really drool, and they don't have the oily waterproof coat that breeds like a lab or hound does, so they're naturally low-odor without much of a 'doggy' smell. i'll bathe every 4-8 weeks depending on what the weather's like and if their skin seems like it's getting cruddy. 2-3 times a year i'll take them to a groomer to have them do a 'deshed' treatment where they really blow out the undercoat, because this makes a huge difference in keeping them comfortable in the heat, and in how much hair i have to vacuum.
for stellina i've also been getting an outline trim (shortening up the yellow areas on the pic with long feathering) in spring and fall, it just keeps things cleaner and it makes a huge difference in the amount of time i have to spend brushing.
feet: i dremel nails every week, same PB-mat method as with brushing. every week is probably overkill but i think it's good desensitization and also i hate long nails on dogs so i'm a bit anal about it. collies tend to get long hair on the feet/between the pads, some people like the 'grinch feet' look but personally i fucking hate it so every 4-6 weeks i just take round-tip scissors and clean them up.
other: the rest i do as needed, e.g. if i see any wax/debris in the ears i'll do a clean with OTC ear cleaner and a cotton ball. one of stellina's eyes tends to be teary, so about once a week i take a warm washcloth and wipe them down to prevent tear stains. and then i vacuum my house weekly, sometimes every 2 weeks if it's not too bad.
honestly i'm writing a lot but what i've listed here is way less than 1 hour a week on average, collies IMO are not particularly high-grooming needs dogs (compared to, say, a doodle or OES that needs daily brushing and regular professional grooming). i find the grooming and hair totally manageable. i honestly prefer dealing with long hair because it tends to clump together on the ground, rather than short hairs that fly and scatter into everything. people tend to see roughs and go 'oh no way too much hair' but like, it is super manageable as long as you've got half an hour at some point each week to brush your dog. i'm very obsessive about my pets being 'neat' and i do fine.
sorry for the incredibly overly-long answer to your very simple ask lmao
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No Second Chances- Al Haitham x Azar's daughter! wife!Reader
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Recovery date: April 26th, 2024
Description: Hello sorry if I'm bothering you but I got an idea from this video. (https://youtu.be/ZcMI-CQcZ_c?si=Ri1SQU-0DO6PMtIV) What if the reader is the biological daughter of Azar and is currently married to Alhaitham and they have a toddler who's almost two years old and the reader wants nothing to do with Azar because of what he did though she was willing to try and keep a somewhat healthy relationship with him because at the end of the day Azar was still her father and her child's grandfather, the reader is a gentle, humble and soft-spoken woman who does try to avoid confrontation.
Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. This one was a little hard to write, so I'm sorry if it's not very good.
Word count: 640
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Al Haitham is not known for his empathy. He comes off as cold, he is calculating, and he doesn’t care for other people's bullshit. Those traits serve him well, they keep him out of trouble and on time, and they make it abundantly clear what he thinks of people.
He can count on one hand the people he tolerates excess complaining and illogical arguments from.
“You don’t have to see him,” Al Haitham whispers into the quiet room, tightening his hold on his wife.
She stops squirming, finally, but he knows she’s not done. He’s proven right when she fights against his hold to turn towards him and he opens his eyes to find her staring into his. Y/n places her hands on his chest, above his heart, and takes a deep breath. He can feel the pounding of her heart.
“I want Ehsan to know his grandfather.”
“He will.”
“Beyond what the history books will say,” Y/n sighed.
Al Haitham bit back a sigh. He couldn’t say he agreed with her, Azar hadn’t even been particularly present in her youth, but he understood what she was trying to do. When Azar had come to their wedding, she’d been ecstatic. When Ehsan had been born and he’d sent flowers, she’d started planning a day to bring him by the Academia. To her, Azar’s absence had always been explained and was never malicious so she was willing to give him a chance in her life.
That illusion she’d created, that her father carried, was now teetering after the recent events with the Akasha terminal. It was always so fragile, and now she was looking for a way to break it completely.
“It’s making you anxious,” Al Haitham said instead, resting his chin on her head and rubbing a hand up and down her back. “You hardly ate today.”
“I want my father to meet his grandson at least once, and you and Cyno went through all that trouble-”
“Y/n. We don’t care.”
She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands as she drummed her fingers against his chest. Al Haitham slid his hands around her waist to hold hers and placed a gentle kiss against her ring.
“Ehsan has a wonderful family already.” He nudges her chin up. “And if you tell any of them I said that I will put salt in your coffee.”
Y/n cracked a smile, and Al Haitham put his chin back on her head while wrapping his arms back around her.
“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “You can decide in the morning.”
---
Y/n took a deep breath before nodding at Cyno who opened the interrogation room door and let her in. She stepped in, fiddling with her fingers, and stared at the floor as she made her way to the empty chair. Azar watched her with stern eyes, hands folded on the table.
“I hear you’re being sent to Avidya forest.”
“Yes.”
Taking another deep breath, Y/n pressed her palms flat against the table and squeezed her eyes closed before meeting Azar’s eyes.
“Good luck.”
She got up from the chair and headed back towards the door.
“Is that all?” Azar asked, frowning.
“That’s all.”
“How’s Ehsan?”
Y/n stopped with her hand raised to knock for Cyno.
“He’s good, very smart… like his father. I think it would be better if maybe you take some time to think about things and then, if you want, we’ll come visit.”
“But he’s my grandson,” Azar snapped, making Y/n tense up and dig her nails into the palm of her hand.
“You’ve never met him, and the idea of seeing you makes me so nervous that he gets worried. So, for my son’s sake, goodbye,” she breathed, the shaky exhale causing her shoulders to relax as she knocked on the door.
#researcher s's recovery#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact alhaitham#genshin impact al haitham#alhaitham#al haitham#al haitham x reader#alhaitham x reader#x reader#female reader#oneshot#genshin impact oneshot#rating unavailable
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mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric
spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.
- working for the knife
honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:
I always thought the choice was mine
And I was right, but I just chose wrong
I start the day lying and end with the truth
That I'm dying for the knife
- liquid smooth
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too
I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe
About to fall
How I feel this river rushing through my veins
With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round
- class of 2013
Mom, would you wash my back?
This once, and then we can forget
And I'll leave what I'm chasing
For the other girls to pursue
Mom, am I still young?
Can I dream for a few months more?
- i don't smoke
Just don't leave me alone
Wondering where you are
I am stronger than you give me
Credit for
If your hands need to break
More than trinkets in your room
You can lean on my arm
As you break my heart
- abbey
again, the entire song is very reid, but:
I am something
I have been something
I was born something
What could I be?
There is a light that I can see
But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me
There is a dream that I sometimes see
That only appears in the dark of sleep
- i bet on losing dogs
Will you let me, baby, lose
On losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I wanna feel it
I bet on losing dogs
I always want you when I'm finally fine
- the deal
Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night
And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight
Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me
So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said
"Now I'm taken, the night has me
You won't hear me singin'
You're a cage without me
Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for
Now I'm taken, the night has me"
- fireworks
this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:
One morning this sadness will fossilize
And I will forget how to cry
I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change
Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye
I will go jogging routinely
Calmly and rhythmically run
And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side
I'll pull it out without questioning why
- i don't like my mind
again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:
I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room
With all its opinions about the things that I've done
So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone
And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake
- first love / late spring
very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:
And I was so young when I behaved 25
Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child
And I don't wanna go home
Let me walk to the top of the big night sky
- there's nothing left for you
You could touch fire
You could fly
It was your right
It was your life
And then it passed
To someone new
It'll keep passin' on
Long after you
- nobody
And I don't want your pity
I just want somebody near me
Guess I'm a coward
I just want to feel alright
- because dreaming costs money, my dear
I once lived in the sea
Bring me to your ear, you can hear
The tide where I used to be
Though now I'm but a shell
- a pearl
Sorry, I don't want your touch
It's not that I don't want you
Sorry, I can't take your touch
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night, baby, that's where I go
- real men
Real men keep cool in the face of a fire
Go down with the ship
And real men don't eat
'Cause they're above that, damn it
Oh, I'm gonna be a real man
- crack baby
It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation
Both these 20 years tryna fill the void
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you had it once
And you know that you want it back
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you're needing it
And you know that you need it bad
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176.
Soren has a dragon that he's had since he was three.
It's one of the few genuinely happy memories he has from his childhood. Most days he struggles to remember any at all—so much of it was posturing and conflict and useless efforts to win his father's pride. It was not the simplest childhood, certainly not the happiest, but Rexy is still in his quarters, and when Soren looks at him, he thinks of games and laughter and the warmth of his mother's arms against the winter cold.
He's still pretty fond of him, even now. He's dusty and old and beat to shit, his left eye loose, his dye faded, and Soren's not going to pretend he doesn't pull him down sometimes to defend him from invisible armies (a perfectly normal twenty-eight year old thing to do, thank you), but Rexy's definitely seen better days too, and Soren thinks of the twins that are supposed to be arriving any day now and thinks it might be time for a little bit of a makeover before Rexy goes back into the fray.
"That's so sweet," chuckles Callum, as he examines the loose stitching at Rexy's ear. "But I gotta be honest, Soren, I dunno that he's gonna make it even if I do fix him. Kids can be really rough."
Soren doesn't doubt it. Callum and Rayla's little girl is barely eighteen months old and she's a terror to anything in the castle smaller than her. "I still think it's worth trying," he says. "If he goes down, he'll go down in battle, and there's no nobler end for a toy."
"True," snorts Callum. He fiddles Rexy's loose eye and tugs it free. Soren tries not to wince. "You've had him forever though. I know he means a lot to you. Are you sure you wanna let your soon-to-be kids tear him up?"
"Mm." Soren shrugs, a little sentimental, a little heartbroken, but resolute all the same. "I don't really have anything else to pass on," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about it for ages, and I—" He huffs. "I just think that Rexy'll watch over them the same way he watched over me. Does that make sense?"
Callum laughs good naturedly and nudges his arm. "Yeah," he says. "I get it." He glances at Soren from the corner of his eye then, and Soren can feel the way Callum studies him, his mentality, his readiness to be a dad. "Are you okay?"
"Mm," says Soren again. This time he shifts uncomfortably, because the thought is terrifying almost more than it is exciting. "I just want to be a better dad than mine was."
Callum smiles and pats his arm. "You've got nothing to worry about there, bud. You're going to be just fine."
"Big assumption," snorts Soren.
"Call it more of an observation," says Callum. "You've done the work. You're always doing the work. That's half the job right there. The rest is just love. Isn't that right, Rexy?"
He raises Rexy then and pitches his voice up an octave. "Don't worry, Soren, I'll keep you in line."
"Good gods."
"Get used to it, man, funny voices are like ten percent of the job."
Soren swats at him, and Callum dodges it only to almost fall out of his chair. "So you'll fix him?"
"I'll do my best," says Callum with a chuckle. Then, more genuinely, he adds, "You're nothing like your dad, Soren. You're going to be fine. Rexy will make sure of it."
Soren barks out a laugh. "I'm sure he will."
(And he does).
#inspired by that one post of Soren and his toy dragon <3#i also know that callum stitches an antimagic blanky so i imagine he can also fix a plush dragon#also also i specifically did not name the mother of sorens children but if you know you know#(the twins belong to raayllum)#rayllum#(tangentially)#in anticipation
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IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)
summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.
warnings: short and sweet! (none)
a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo
sneak peak | pinterest board
(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.)
It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.
It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.
Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.
To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze.
She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.
The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.
He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song.
The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view.
Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window.
In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.
He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.
What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.
She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.
Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.
That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.
He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.
He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck.
“Hi.”
His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs.
It was September.
“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”
“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.
She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.
No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.
The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.
Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.
“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.
What was that called? Heterochromia?
He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”
She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”
He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”
The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books.
She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some revision resources done early.”
Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.
She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.
He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.
He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.
He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie.
He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.
He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”
She sighed, “Can I tell you something?”
Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.
He nodded.
“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”
Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.
He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.
The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless.
When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”
She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”
Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.
He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”
She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”
Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”
“Natalia.”
“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.
“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”
Something clenched in his chest.
#sidney crosby x oc#sidney crosby fic#it's never over prologue#nhl fic#nhl series#sidney crosby imagine#sidney crosby oneshot#sidney crosby x reader
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I'm so sorry for all the notifications lmao I'm going around liking every ask because i haven't been on the page for a bit. And why the fuck is all the asks making me like Lars. I don't want to like Lara because Lara doesn't want to like my MC.. i already have enough problems with Rook 🤦♀️🤦♀️
I need to stay away from these problematic ROs. 😭
Oh quessssstiiioooon someone's probably asked this before but I've seen it on a few blogs. But since magic is obvs a thing. If someone cursed MC or gave them something that could only be broken by true love's kiss (especially since mc doesn't really have the healthiest relationship with those they are close to so who would think they could break a spell like that)
and it's after they've confessed to the ROs. How would they react to MC not waking up at first after they kissed them... but waking up after they've started having a major meltdown after all?
If you have gotten this ask could i please have a link because finding anything on tumblr is... 😒
And i literally fall in love with this goddamn IF every time i read anything on this page. It's a curse in itself... I hope you have a lovely weekend 🤣😇💜
Omg never apologize for mass liking, that's literally anyone on Tumblr's lifeblood lol
Also you know, I feel like Lars, despite being the biggest asshole of the ROs, is still less of a handful then Rook lmfaO good luck with dealing with them!
Also I have not been asked this one before! Felt very inspired it with, so I turned it into a prompt!
Rook:
You’re so still against the touch of his lips. You’re still even after he pulls away. His chest buzzes so loud it echoes in his ears. You don’t move, not even the flutter of your lashes and he should have known. How can he be your true love, when he spent so many years running away?
Whoever it is, would look you in the eyes when you said you loved them. They’re someone who would have taken you in their arms instead of turning away again and again. He sinks to his knees, hands clutching at the side of the bed where you lay. Tears burn at his eyes, but not a single one falls.
Even before he made this foolish decision, he knew. All that’s left is to find the one could wake up. If you’re life lays in the hands of someone else, a fact he always knew, then so be it.
He’ll let you go, like he should have so long ago. He will. He just needs another moment here with you before he turns away. He needs to hear your heartbeat and the cadence of your breathing for one last time.
Time passes as slow as honey, thick and opaque. His body is listless. In the silence, your breath catches and he blinks. Turns. You take another shaky breath, and when your eyes open, he’s on his feet.
“MC!” He gathers you in his arms, holding on tight. “Oh, thank god. I thought I lost you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
His forehead falls against your shoulder, and the tears finally fall. Your awake, your body is warm. And maybe, just maybe, he really does have a chance to make things right.
Beck:
When you don’t move after he pulls away, he doesn’t waver. Magic is strange, it can effect everyone differently, and with how much magic has affected you, he isn’t concerned that there isn’t an immediate response.
Instead, he takes a seat next to where you lay. He brings his knees up to his chest and tells you about all the things you’ve missed. The first flowers of spring, the new used bookstore that opened up on the corner, school events, and class drama.
The time ticks down, and it pricks at his heart. He keeps talking. About himself, about his life, about how he first fell for you, about how you are the warmth of the fire on a winter day, and if even if he isn’t your true love, then that’s ok. He’s just so glad he was able to have any time with you at all.
At some point, his throat is dry and he’s run out of words. What can he say, as the sky turns a dusty orange. He swallows, eyes fluttering closed and feel the first of the tears fall. If it isn’t him to wake you up, then who will it be? And how long will you be cursed to sleep until they find you?
A world without your laugh is far worse than a world where the two of you aren’t meant to be.
Then.
You shift beside him, and he goes still. When he looks, he sees your eyes flutter open, eyebrows furrowing as you look at him.
“…You’re awake.” He says, voice barely above a whisper. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, so impossibly gently. “You’re awake.”
He laughs, a watery, trembly sort of laugh, as he runs a thumb against your cheek. You’ll still be with him.
Rhea:
“Please wake up.” She whispers, kneeling next to you. There is no sign the kiss did anything. It’s fine, this isn’t the end of the world. She has had the logic of magic seared into her brain, and she knows how it works. She’ll wait. She can wait.
But still, you remain still. She gets up and moves around, to give her body something to do as she waits. She’s not good at that, waiting. She always needs to be in the midst of doing something. Making progress. When something’s out of her hands like this, she feels like she’s in freefall.
There might be a chance, she thinks as time ticks by, that you and her aren’t the ones for each other. Somehow, it makes the anxious energy in her gut easier to deal with. As long as she doesn’t think of the heartbreak that will hit the moment she leaves your side, it gives her a plan. Something to work towards. Steps to map out to figure out where to go from here and how to wake you up. The process of even finding the one who could do so.
She’s on step four when your fingers twitch. She goes still in response. All her thoughts scatter. Like a deer in headlights she watches you, wondering if it was just her imagination. But then your body shifts and she’s next to you again, softly calling your name.
“MC? Can you…can you hear me darling?” When you blink away, she feels a smile bloom despite herself. You’re awake and well and still hers.
Zoe:
There’s doubt in their chest even before they press a kiss against your lips. For it to be them? They’re not the kind of person who makes it into fairytales. They know this. Stories are the sort of thing they’ve studied their entire life. They exist on the other side of the glass, able to peer in but never able to be.
As you remain still, they stand and lean back on their heel. Whoever your true love is, it isn’t them. It isn’t that they doubt your love, but it’s hard to imagine that kind of forever for them. If this was the fate they were dealt, then so be it. And even so, you were their first love, and that’s a kind of special whatever comes next can’t take away. Even on different paths, even living different lives, you can both still be a fond memory for the other.
But god, they’ve never experience heartbreak either or the way it collides into their body and leaves them breathless. They wanted this. Every moment with you was a dream they never thought they’d get a chance to see. They were awkward and clumsy, and they were the luckiest person alive to have been able to met you.
They press a hand against their mouth, to stop the sob that’s trying to break through them. The image of you blurs as tears collect in their eyes and stream down their cheeks. They squeeze their eyes shut, trying to collect themselves.
It’s why it startles them, when they feel a hand reaching out, “…Zoe?”
They choke on a gasp, eyes flying open to see you awake. You’ve pulled yourself up, and your eyes are open. It strikes them so suddenly, they all but throw themselves against you. Any embarrassment they used to feel is gone. They’ll never let themselves hesitate again.
Lars:
“You would get yourself cursed.” He whispered against your lips as he pulls away. He doesn’t believe in true love or soulmates. For a curse to be based on the concept, it must make it the flimsiest curse to have been made. All it really needs is love and faith and stubbornness. Maybe his faith is lacking, but he sure as hell can make up for it with stubbornness.
So he waits. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and wonders how long it will take. His hand toys with your fingers absently. With you asleep, you won’t be able to comment on the display. He still remembers when you said you loved him, the look in your eyes that left no room for doubt. He thought you were making a terrible decision, but he wasn’t one to complain. Your terrible decision, just lead to his great decision to go along with it.
The time passes slow, but the anxiety never comes. That isn’t who he is. Not when he’s sure about this, or at least more sure about it then whatever magic was used on you. And even if the kiss doesn’t wake you up, he’ll just find whoever cursed you in the first place and make them reap the consequences.
When he feels your hand move, slipping your fingers between his, he sighs, “About time you got up.”
“Lars? My hand—”
“Don’t get used to it.” You laugh, the sound scratchy from sleep, and he feels his body relax. It was nice to have you back.
???:
They know your souls are too entwined to have a doubt. That doesn’t not mean there won’t be blood on their hands for what was done to you. How dare someone curse the one they love. How dare someone put their hands on you.
They’re kiss is so painfully soft despite the violent rage in their chest. It’s been so long since they’ve felt this burning under their skin. Did the Curse Giver think you were alone and unloved? Did they not realize you had someone who was entwined with you in every way, down to the way you take a breath.
The wraiths flicker around them, agitated by the tremble in their body. They keep close to you, body curved as a way to shield you from the rest of the earth. If you don’t wake soon, they’re hands will find a blade, and that blade will find a body. The wraiths whisper amongst each other, as though capable of soothing them.
“But you were cursed even before this, weren’t you?” They breathe, pressing another kiss to your forehead. You shift beneath them, and when they pull away you open your eyes.
You say their name, and the sound of it wraps around them. They have a Curse Giver to kill, but for now, they only lay down beside you, and ask if you’re ok. You’ve been asleep for so long, and it took too long to get to you. They’ll never be late again.
#em answers#ch: rook#ch: beck#ch: rhea#ch: zoe#ch: lars#ch: ???#true loves kiss in the world of fairytales? more likely then you think#also got to write angry ??? for the first time let's goooo
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[TEASER] finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin
ji changmin x reader
with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.
inspired by ➵ "seasons" by wave to earth, the last five years
general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, the last five years story-telling method aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward (i hope that makes sense), missed chances, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, hurt/comfort, jealousy remains but love triumphs, tiger parents, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all
word count ➵ est. 10-15k
playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by renee rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth
a/n ➵ shhhhhhh.... i know that i'm still writing this but a lil motivation and accountability goes a long way SOOO !!! this is just a lil teaser for the upcoming jichang fic for the deoboyznet event <33 thank you again to my lovely @hcuyk for beta reading !!! (i've only written 1/4 please understand.) but i'm dedicating this to my lovely @sungbeam whose love for changmin is one i'll forever feel even to my ribs and @wavesmp3 who forever remains an inspiration in the way i write </3 plus, i've posted these snippets anyway so :P if ure interested in this fic, feel free to ask to be part of the taglist for this! and dont forget to always leave feedback <3
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask!
masterlists
it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.
the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.
a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was home cooked, something from home.
the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.
your tastebuds long for cheongju.
“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”
you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stocking up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”
“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”
“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”
“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”
your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”
“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”
you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.”
“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”
the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob quickly runs away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.
still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.
then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.
your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.
and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.
but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.
but he bites the inside of his cheek, and his dimples appear.
it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?
you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.
your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”
“yeah, about that…”
“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”
at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”
“what? why?”
you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”
“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”
“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”
“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”
an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”
and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—
“y/n?”
and the plan failed.
when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.
all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”
a beat passes.
“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)
taglist ➵@winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs
#the boyz x reader#ji changmin x reader#ji changmin angst#ji changmin fluff#the boyz imagines#ji changmin imagines#the boyz scenarios#ji changmin scenarios
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Oh he is So baby (Patreon)
#Doodles#Helix#SCII#Max Vyer#Teen Max ;; *gently holds*#Like I didn't love him already his teen phase was This Cute??? Stoppp#I am once again relating way too hard to Max lol - it looks? like he's wearing dark eyeliner to me#There's no way he actually has eye bags that dark as a 16 year old right am I just protecting my feelings towards wanting him to be okay :'D#He started drinking before he was 21 but when did he start some of the harder stuff - was him getting on the roof a teen or drug thing#Worried about you Max#Well anyway I choose to believe it's eyeliner lol <3 Which is extremely cute <3#There's something so double-funny to me about having drawn him all cutesy as a baby y'know - cherubic! Adorable blond baby!#And then his emo/grunge/punk phase as a teen but he keeps his blond hair because of his vanity hehehehe I love him!!! So much!!#He's so adorable <3#Anyway yeah I had a dark eyeliner phase as a teen also lol except mine was Classique Fandom Cringe™ ♥#I'd draw the YGO Eye of Ra with my eye acting as the main part of the eye lol teens are goofy like that#Very measured of him to just darken his lower lid really ♪#The collar and the cuffs too I just jdksfladf I can't think of it as anything but extremely cute lol I'm so endeared <3 <3#He's such a brat I love him so much#I talked about how his parents would've still been awful even if he had A Diagnosis but honestly he probably would've been too <3#Not a get-out-of-jail-free card Max!#I - a Max apologist - say lol
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<3
#been thinking a lot about how whenever i have a dream or an idea marinating in my brain for long enough it then becomes something that i am#determined to pursue. and that no one can really dissuade me from#it simply becomes a permanent part of my creative direction in life#i guess you could say that's kind of the same thing as having a special interest but not QUITE#like for example. what i'm thinking of right now is my desire to start a band#and i come up with a lot of crazy ideas on a day to day basis but a good amount of them end up being simply fleeting or dictated by my mood#the ones that stay though... those are the one that actually HAPPEN#i've wanted to sing in a band for at least a year now#to be honest it's probably been longer but it's been at least a year of me being consciously aware of it#and it just made me realize. this desire has stuck around in my brain for quite a while now#and i think that means it is going to happen someday#i don't know exactly how yet because the way i originally thought it might happen (me going to music college) didn't work out#but it's been a year and i'm still thinking about it and keeping my eyes open in case i meet the right people to make music with#i know from experience that when i put my mind to something i WILL get it done#in the sense that i will surprise myself with how stubborn i can be when it comes to not stopping chasing my dreams#and i've had big goals in the past that i did achieve because of this#i'm also like. surprisingly adaptable??? i only recently learned that about myself but i be pulling Plan B's out of my sleeves#so that's all to say -- i'm choosing to believe that i will start my band someday and it will be better than i can imagine right now#and in general i'm choosing to believe that the things i truly love and truly want in my life will only become more clear over time#even if i'm confused and lost at times NOW... if i keep moving forward in time it will all make sense#and a lot of times situations do work out exactly the way they were meant to but in the most unexpected of ways#i don't know how coherent this all was but yeah#starting a band is only the most recent example#belle speaks
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