#if anyone was wondering I don’t think I am
Text
riding lessons (cowboy!harry)
Summary: Where a tense Harry gives riding lessons to some you would have never expected. When jealousy takes over, Harry reassures you of his love. Based on this ask.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: 18+, angst, smut, oral sex (female recieving),
A/N: i have been dying to do some cowboyrry so here you guys go! and if anyone is wondering, i am totally picturing harry with his current mullet cause duh. please let me know what you think! love you guys the most!
---
“Harry!” You squeal as Harry peppers kisses all over your face, his fingers tickling up your sides.
“Hmm, what?” He manages to get out between kisses, a smile painted on his face. You plant your hands on his chest and try to push him away.
Harry had woken up in an excellent mood this morning, full of smiles and love. He had clung to you since the moment you woke up, laying constant kisses on your lips and now all over your face.
He ran his hands up your bare stomach under his shirt that you were wearing, his kisses slowing just slightly.
“Baby,” You push at his chest, giggling.
Harry pulled away with a cheeky smile on his face, resting his forehead against yours. He looked into your eyes and there was that look he always gave you that made you blush.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, honey.” He went to take another kiss from you, which would have probably led to much more than a kiss, when his phone buzzed, pulling a groan from him.
He buried his face in your neck, mumbling, “Don’t wanna go.”
You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his face back so you can look at him. “Lessons?” You ask, a frown appearing on your face. Normally Harry loved giving riding lessons.
Ever since you met Harry four years ago, he’s lived in the same place, doing the same thing. Harry grew up on his family’s ranch, and never left. Once he got old enough, his dad let him start running the horse riding lessons because that was exactly what Harry loved to do. He still hadn’t taught you, but that’s because you had never really asked him. It just wasn’t something that you felt the need to do, ride a horse that is.
You didn’t grow up here like Harry did. You grew up in a city about two hours from the ranch. You and Harry met on a random Sunday at a grocery store when he was visiting family. The moment you met him you knew you had to see him again. And of course you did, you were persistent.
Now, four years later, he was your best friend as well as your husband. You both live on the ranch in a sweet little farmhouse that he and his dad built together.
But the point was, Harry loved giving riding lessons on the ranch, so you couldn’t quite figure out why he sounded so against it today.
Harry nodded and placed a kiss on your nose before climbing off your bed. He had dressed himself earlier, so all he had to do was tug on his boots. He grabbed his cowboy hat from the side table, placed it on his head, and came over to your side of the bed to lean over you.
“I’ll be home for lunch, honey,” he says before giving you one last kiss, then grabbing his phone to check the message he got earlier.
As soon as his eyes hit his phone his body tenses, but he moves past it as if nothing happened, sticking his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.
“I love you,” You call out as he starts to make his way out of the bedroom.
He looks back over his shoulder and puts on a fake smile, nothing like the one he wore earlier, saying, “Love you more,” before leaving the room.
What the hell was up with him?
You tried not to think too much about it, getting a shower and getting ready before making your way to the main farm house on the ranch where Harry’s parents lived.
As soon as you stepped in, you could smell the delicious breakfast that you knew Ronnie, Harry’s mother and your mother in law, prepared.
You turned the corner to the kitchen and saw the spread of breakfast foods across the kitchen island. Pancakes with blueberries and ones with chocolate chips, fried potatoes, bacon, and everything else you could imagine. Your favorite was her hand squeezed orange juice that she made you a new jug of each week.
“Ronnie, you really do know the way to my heart,” you say and watch as she turns around, smile bright just like Harry’s.
She held out a full plate in your direction, “Good morning, sweet pea.”
“Morning,” You took the play from her and sat at the island, digging in. And then of course you got to thinking about Harry’s strange mood this morning and it had your stomach turning all over again. So, you asked your mother in law, “Do you know who Harry’s giving lessons to today?”
She hummed, shaking her head, “M’not sure. Why’re you asking?” She sets a full plate in the microwave, for Chris, Harry’s father, before coming to sit and eat her own breakfast with you.
You shrug, “He just didn’t seem too excited to get out there today is all.”
Ronnie got a confused pout on her face. “Well, if anyone could figure it out, it’d be you, Y/n.”
You nod and stab at the pancake on your plate, hoping it was nothing major.
Later on, as the clock struck twelve, you began to wonder where Harry was as lunch sat on the counter. So you took a trip out to the training ring. Sometimes Harry got so enthralled with the horses that he wouldn’t realize the time had passed. Other times, he and Chris would take their horses down the trails for an afternoon stroll. Either way, this wasn’t unusual for Harry.
The ring wasn’t too far from their house, about a five minute walk. Chris and Ronnie had gifted you both a four wheeler last Christmas to travel the ranch with, but you enjoyed taking in the scenery.
As you approached the arena, you watched as Harry rode his horse, Kalli, beside someone else who you could tell was riding, Milo. Milo was patient, so he was often used for lessons.
You stepped a touch closer, trying to see who the student was. It was definitely a woman, but her face was turned away from your view so you couldn’t tell.
You couldn’t see how Harry was feeling as Kalli trotted along. The both of them rounded the ring and you finally caught sight of her face. Ada.
After being with Harry for four years, being married for almost one, nothing really sparked jealousy within you anymore. But as you caught sight of his ex riding beside him, your stomach slightly dropped.
Ada lived in the same town as you guys, so it was almost guaranteed to come across her a few times in a year. You’d never really acknowledge her, but the two of you had no bad blood. Harry never talked extremely horrible about her, only that their relationship had always been quite… miserable.
So why was he giving her lessons? And why hadn’t Harry told you?
She laughed beside him and he cracked a slight smile before they started making their way toward the stalls, which were in your direction. You were quick to move out of sight, not wanting to make a big deal of this. So, you headed back to the house and tried to shake the enormous feelings that were piling in your gut.
Harry had never taught you how to ride, but now he had taught Ada. Why did that bother you so much? Harry didn’t even like Ada, afterall, he married you. But did he wish you had more enthusiasm when it came to riding? You loved the horses like they were your own children, you just never wanted to ride them, that was Harry’s thing.
Your lip quivered, but you shook your head, stepping back into your home, heading straight for the kitchen. You took a deep breath as you sat at the table and painted on a smile, beginning to eat your lunch.
The front door clicked as it shut, his voice ringing through the house as he called, “Honey?”
“Lunch is ready!” You controlled the shake in your voice as you shouted.
Harry walked through the doorway, sweat soaking through the collar of his t-shirt. He smiled at you as he crossed the kitchen. He approached you from behind your chair, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.
He sat across from you where his food sat, removing his hat from his head, sitting it on the table. You cleared your throat, “How were the lessons?”
You stared down at your plate as he answered. “Yeah, they were fine. Got to see Willow again. She gets better everytime I see her.”
Willow was the daughter of a friend of his, he’d been giving her lessons since she was five. But you weren’t really hoping to hear about Willow.
You hummed, “Anyone new?”
Harry forked some food into his mouth. “One new student today.”
“Sounds exciting.” You say, not meeting his gaze.
“Is everything okay?” He asks. Yeah, everythings great, just the fact that your new student is your ex.
You look up, nodding, “Yup, think I’m just tired.”
He pouted slightly, taking your plate. “Well, go up and take a nap, honey. I’ll clean all this up. Gotta head out to tidy up the stalls then I’ll come back right back to you.”
Harry came over to place a kiss on your lips, whispering, “I love you,” before staring over to the sink.
You padded up the stairs, going along with the whole nap idea. Except you could nap. All you could do was roll around the bed and shut your eyes, picturing them riding together.
You groaned and stared up at the ceiling. For once in your life, you had all the motivation in the world to go out to the stalls and saddle one of the horses. That was never something you wanted to do before. You had no idea why. Maybe you were scared or maybe you were just self aware. But now you wanted to, or you thought so.
You slide off the bed and hop on one of four wheelers, zipping to the stalls where you hoped Harry would be.
“Baby?!” You call out as you park the wheeler, stepping to the stalls.
“Milo’s!” He yells back and you make your way there. When you get there, Harry’s brushing Milo with a smile on his face. “Hey, honey. That nap was fast.”
“Yeah, I’m rested and refreshed. Feeling better than ever.” Not. “Hey, uh,” Harry looks up from Milo, “Can I ask you something?”
He nods, his brows furrowing, “Course you can, Y/n, you know that.”
You clear your throat, nodding to yourself. “Great, good, well,” You shake out your hands that feel like they’re getting sweatier by the second, “I was, uh, wondering if you’d teach me how to… how to ride.”
Harry’s face pulls back, surprise written all over it. “Really?”
“Yeah.” You nod, taking the brush from his hands and placing it in the basket. “I want you to give me lessons.”
The furrowing of his brows returns yet again and your heart drops: He shakes his head in confusion. “Why?”
You frown and scoff. “Do I need a reason?”
“No, it’s just you’ve never asked me before-“
“Well, I am now,” You walk closer to him, whispering, “I want to learn how to fucking ride.”
Hurt spreads across his face as you spit the words. “Y/n, are you okay? What’s up w-“
Flashes of what you had seen earlier seep into your mind. Ada laughing beside Harry, him smiling, him not telling you.
Anger rushes over you as you bring your hands to his chest, pushing him back a few steps, yelling, “Just teach me how to ride, god dammit!”
Then, you’re stuck in place and so is Harry. You let out heavy breaths, your shoulders tight as your stomach turns. Silence fills the air as you both stand in front of each other. What had you just done?
Finally, the emotions that you’d buried deep down earlier had erupted and you look like an asshole. But you still felt hurt. But he was the only thing that ever healed the hurt inside of you. So, right in front of Harry, you broke down. A sob rushed out of your throat, tears falling as you stepped over to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest.
Harry wraps his arms around you and slowly rubs his hand up and down your back trying to soothe you. “It’s okay, honey, you’re okay.” He laid kisses on top of your head as you cried out into his chest. That was something that you loved about Harry. He didn’t need to know what was wrong, only that if something was wrong, he wanted to fix it.
You cried out every single tear you could until his shirt was soaked and your face was drenched. He pulled your face away from his chest to get a good look at you. He stared into your eyes, hand cupping your cheek, asking, “What’s hurting you, honey?”
You bit your lip staring at him, debating whether or not you wanted to tell him. Of course, you wanted to tell him, but you didn’t know if it would make you sound like a crazy jealous wife. Because maybe you were in the wrong. What if this was just all in your own head? Wouldn’t you look stupid.
You took a deep breath, “I know you’re giving Ada lessons.”
Harry’s face morphed into an expression that you couldn’t read. His mouth dropped open a touch and you thought that maybe it was guilt that you saw.
“Y/n,” He shook his head, “I’m so sorry.” He was sorry? Did that mean he had done something? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“No, it’s okay,” You try to fan your face to dry the tears on your cheeks. “I’m sorry I acted this way, it was stupid-”
Harry grabbed your face again, “Don’t you ever say that. It wasn’t stupid. I’m stupid. I’m so fucking stupid because I actually believed her.” Now, you were confused.
“What?” You asked. What the hell was going on right now?
Harry sighed and grabbed your hands. “I didn’t wanna teach her, but she came to me with this sob story,” Shaking his head, a look of disgust washed over his face. “Told me her dad said she needed lessons cause of she didn’t learn how to do something around their farm soon, he’d kick her out.”
A wave of relief crashed over you. You had no idea she still lived with her dad and you were assuming Harry didn’t either. Ada’s dad also had a farm, but it wasn’t nearly as big as the Style’s ranch.
Your shoulders dropped. “Oh.”
Harry nodded, “Yeah, accept he didn’t say that. She just made up the whole goddamn story as a way to get to me. I mean,” He motions behind him, “I’m sure you saw her out there. She knows how to ride a fucking horse. I feel so stupid.” He grabbed your face again. “You know she means nothing to me. Nothing else in the goddamn world means a thing to me if I don’t have you. You know that right?”
“Of course, I do.” You pressed your forehead to his, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “But why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, “Honey I wish I had a reason, but I don’t. God, I’m so fucking stupid.” He gave you a quick kiss. “Forgive me, baby.”
You nod. “You’re forgiven,” You wrap your arms around his neck, “But you’re still gonna have to make it up to me.”
Harry pulled his face back, a mischievous smirk planted on his face. “Right here?” He asked, gripping your hips and backing you up and out of Milo’s stall, before shutting the stall door.
“Harry…” You whispered. The dimples grew on his cheeks which you knew meant he was up to no good. “What are you doing?” You asked as he began trailing his lips down your neck.
“Shh, trying to make it up to my wife.” He slurred against your neck, as if he was drunk off of the feeling. You giggle at his tone but push him off.
He groans at you but you just roll your eyes. “Down boy, you’ll get what you want. But I don’t really feel like giving the horses a show.” You grab his hand and pull him from the stalls quickly, scanning the ranch for a secret hideaway.
Harry tugs you to the right, saying, “The barn.”
You shake your head quickly. “Your dad!” You whisper shout. What was he thinking?
“Is done for the day.” He finishes, dragging you over to the big red building. As soon as you get in, He pushes you up against the wall, his lips immediately pressed to yours and his hands feeling all over your sundress. His hands slip beneath the material, going straight for your ass, squeezing it.
His tongue slips across your lips, making its way into your mouth as your hands make their way up to his hair at his neck. Your fingers tangle in the curls as you moan against his mouth. You were feeling the effects of his actions already as your arousal began to soak your panties. He pulls away from the kiss, breathless and a lust drunk smile on his face. He pulls his cowboy hat from his head, setting it on yours.
“Hold this for me?” Harry starts to lower himself onto his knees. “Wanna have a taste of my sweet, sweet Honey.”
He lifts your dress up to your waist, looking for you to hold it. You do, grabbing the hem of your dress as a breeze blows over your legs. Harry kisses the inside of your thighs, trailing up to the very apex. You let out a small gasp, your stomach caving in as he pressed his lips over top of the center of your panties.
“Oh, baby,” He placed a long lick along your covered center, “So worked up.” He hooked his fingers into your underwear, sliding them down your legs. He tucked them in the back pocket of his jeans before lifting one of your legs and placing it on shoulder. He locked his eyes on yours as he latched his mouth onto your cunt.
“Oh my god,” You sigh as he slid a hand back to hold your ass, pushing your pussy further in his face. Harry wrapped his tongue around your clit, sucking at it, sending zaps of pleasure through your body. He groans against you, his tongue moving to fuck into you. Your head starts to lull back at the loads of satisfaction you’re feeling but he’s quick to reach up and pinch your thigh, getting your attention.
“Eyes on me,” He speaks sternly against you. You nod and watch as he drowns himself in your arousal, exploring every inch of your pussy. “Ya wear dresses like this more often and I’ll be on my knees forever.”
It was one of the simple sun dresses that you had in your closet. You had no idea that it drove him this crazy, but you made a mental note.
You started grinding your hips against his face feeling the tingles climb up your spine. Harry nodded and kept himself still, letting you decide what felt good. “That’s it, honey, take what you want.” So, you did. Your hands dropped the bottom of the dress that you had been holding, sticking your hands in his hair and pushing his face against you.
“Harry,” Your voice grabbing onto a high pitch noise as your high started to creep up on you. Your head dropped forward as you watched him, his hat that sat on your head dipped forward over your face.
“Go ‘head, honey, come for me.” He his nose rubbed at your clit while his tongue continued fucking into you, making you moan out and pull his curls.
And all of a sudden, you were being pushed over the cliff and your high washed over you. Your legs shook as he lapped up every drop of your arousal like a puppy. You hoped that you weren’t too loud, but you couldn’t help yourself as he began to suck at your clit again.
You yelped and yanked at his hair, shaking your hair, “Too sensitive.”
Harry chuckled as he removed your leg from his shoulder, rising off his knees. He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Feel good, baby?”
You hummed and nodded. “Just like jelly.”
“Ready for some more?” He picked you up from your ass and wrapped your legs around his waist, jogging you both to the house, leaving you squealing.
“Harry!”
#cowboylikelyric#smut#harrystyles#fanfic#cowboy#cowboyrry#writing#harry styles writing#harry edward styles#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry one shot#blurb#oneshot#sexy content#fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#wattpad#aesthetic#18+ content
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
How About a Nuke?
Part VIII / Part IX
(Completed) Series Masterlist
Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader
A/N: PLEASE READ, we have reached the end of their journey and I am so sad/happy/excited about it. I don’t even know how to feel honestly. I just want to thank everyone who has commented, messaged or reblogged this story. Your kind words and funny little depressed memes have been really uplifting for me. I was actually considering just giving up on this blog when I posted the first chapter. I haven’t had much inspiration lately or interaction I feel like, and you all have helped reignite that spark within me.
Summary: There’s something keeping you tied to Cooper Howard, an invisible string wrapped around you both. You’ve fought against it as long as you could but he’s not gonna let you fight for much longer.
It’s been a month and the bounty on her head gets bigger everyday. Normally the compound hires privately, they don’t like going through the agencies. He figures with Sylvie dead they’re struggling to find a new leader and they’re falling apart. Or they’re just desperate for her head on a stick.
He sees her face everywhere, crudely drawn images of her varying in their accuracy. In some she has a hat like his on, in others her nose is the wrong shape, or her eyes are all wrong. No one seems to have a good grasp on who she is. Out of curiosity and a strange need to know she’s still alive, he’s asked around.
There are different rumors as to where she’s hiding out. Some think she’s taken to hiding out in the caves near Filly. Anyone with half a brain knows that the area’s overrun by irradiated bears and other mutated freaks.
There are those that say they’ve seen her wandering through the sands. Following that lead had led him nowhere. He doesn’t know where she is and it’s driving him insane. She’s like a constant itch in the back of his mind that he just can’t scratch. Days and nights are spent thinking about her and he hates it.
He’s not sure what he’d do when he does find her. Whether he’d shoot her to repay the favor or just tie her up to keep her from leaving again. He’s conflicted on how he feels about her. He’s bothered that he feels anything towards her at all. And he knows that when she shot him, she was shooting to kill.
She had no way of knowing that he would heal from that bullet. She’d watched him bleed out on the ground and left him for dead. He was impressed, as much as he wanted to be mad, he was almost proud in a way.
Throughout their tumultuous lives and times together she’d always had to be guided by him. He’d shown her the ways of whatever world they were living in. She’d relied on him and he enjoyed it. The time had to come when eventually she wouldn’t need him anymore.
It’s outside of Filly that he finds the most accurate poster of her so far. She looks like she did in their first movie together. A proper outlaw, wanted all across the Wastelands for her crimes against a bunch of sick fucks. If he could kill Sylvie again, he would. He’d kill all of them.
Not that he’s condemning them because of what the compound’s doing. He’s dabbled in organ trade before, eaten people, he’s done a lot of fucked up shit. But he draws the line at trying to hurt her. He’s the only one who should be allowed to fuck with her.
He takes the poster down and whistles softly at the price under her name. It’s enough to keep him happy for a longtime. If he never wanted to take on another bounty he wouldn’t have to. Course, he was never in this for the money. A man’s gotta have something to entertain himself with at the end of the world.
He wonders if she’s even still alive. Maybe a Deathclaw got her a day after she left him behind. He could have walked past her corpse and never even known it. He folds the poster up and slips it in his bag. He doesn’t know why he bothers keeping it. Possibly because it’s the closest thing to her that he’s got, but he doesn’t feel like lingering on that thought for long.
He tugs his hat lower on his head and heads through the tunnel leading to Filly. He’s caused a lot of issues here over the years. Usually he kills most of the people who could identify him as an instigator, but he doesn’t feel like pushing his luck today. He needs more supplies and he knows Ma June won’t sell to him if he causes a fight beforehand.
It’s louder than normal today, more people rushing around. They’re all congregating around something in the center of the marketplace. He turns to the left, heading up the stairs to try and get a better look at what’s got everyone so excited.
“They found her!” A boy shouts, fidgeting in his spot next to him. He glances at him from under his hat and the boy pales before scurrying away from him. His lips turn up in a cruel grin and he finally gets a good look at what’s happening.
She’s kneeling in the middle of the marketplace, two Knights on either side of her. He’s more surprised by the fact that she actually has picked up a hat in her time away from him.
She seems to be playing into the outlaw routine more than he thought she would.
You’re embarrassed, honestly, that you let these two idiots capture you. Them and their useless little squires.
You’ve found odd jobs through the Brotherhood when they need assistance looking for relics of the old world. Though, you’re really not sure how much use a toaster oven can be to them, but they pay good money for it.
Once your bounty was posted and they figured out who you were, though, that stopped being useful. You can’t even hunt bounties because the agencies would just grab you and turn you over to the compound.
They clearly didn’t give a shit about women, you don’t get why they’re making this whole Sylvie situation such a big deal.
You had to bribe Ma June by buying some of her junk, but eventually she’d helped you find some work in Filly. The people here are stupid enough that they don’t recognize you when they see you. Most of them are high or drunk so the only thing you have to worry about is wandering hands and not stepping in the middle of their brawls.
From the patrons of the bar you hear stories about yourself. How you slaughtered the entire compound, even the children, which is so far from the truth you can’t help but scoff. Or how you apparently slept with a ghoul and you're carrying his mutant baby.
You don’t even know where they got that one from.
They also seem to think you wander through the sands, shooting anyone who gets in your way. It’s a comfort that no one seems to have caught onto you yet. But it’s also disheartening to know that all that’s left of civilization is a bunch of psychopathic idiots.
What happened to natural selection?
You know your stint in Filly is up when two Knights walk in, their squires struggling to carry their bags behind them. You pull your hat further over your head and duck behind the bar. You try to keep your back to them and let the old man, Marley, who runs the bar deal with them.
His shaky voice is cautious as he greets them, “What are Knights doing so far out here?”
One of their distorted voices rings out through the, now quiet, bar. “We got bored. Wanted to shoot some shit.”
You roll your eyes and focus on cleaning the cup in front of you. You spit into it, not enough water to properly clean it, and scrub at it with a stained towel. Marley hums, clearly displeased with the answer. You can hear his tottering steps approaching you and wince, praying he’s not going to do what you think he is.
He tugs on your shirt with a shaky hand and you slump forward in defeat. “Deal with these jackasses,” he mutters, taking drinks over to a different table.
You pour the only alcohol the bar has into two cups and keep your head down as you approach. “Heard that a woman took over for Knight Damien.”
One of them scoffs and shakes his armored head, “What the fuck is this world coming to?” You don’t know how they’re planning on drinking their liquor with the helmets on but you’re not going to ask stupid questions. You drop the cups in front of them, but your hand slips and one of them tips over into a Knight’s lap.
“I’ve got it, sire.” Their squire lunges forward and begins vigorously scrubbing their armor. Your face curls up in distaste and you’re about to walk away when a metal hand grips your wrist.
“Holy shit, it’s her!” Oh, you’re so screwed.
They’ve got a fucking leash on you, it’s humiliating. The scarred and dirt-covered faces of the citizens of Filly surround you. They’re all leering, shouting at you and begging the Knight’s to share in the bounty. But the Knight’s aren’t listening, they’re just congratulating each other.
“What do you think they’ll give us?”
One of them shoves their squire and he goes toppling into his large bag, feet flailing in the air. “Hopefully better fucking squires. I’m getting sick of this one’s stupid face.”
The squire kneels down and shouts in a shaking voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sire!” God, you really hate these people. You wished they would just shoot you. Having to sit here and listen to them talk was making your brain go numb.
The Knight’s distorted laugh rings out through his helmet. The other one glances over at you, “What do you think she did? I’ve never seen the compound this pissed off.”
“I dunno. Hey!” You know he’s talking to you, that they want an answer, you really don’t care to give them one. “What’d you do?” They stare at you for a moment and then he sighs when you don’t respond. He shoves his squire towards you and the kid goes stumbling over his feet. “Make her talk.”
He nods rapidly, head bobbing up and down. “Of course, sire.” Your hands twitch to your side and you give him a wicked grin as he approaches.
He’s debating going down there and trying to help her when the first shot goes off. He doesn’t even see it happen, he just watches as one of the squires drops to the ground.
Those who don’t want to get caught in the crossfire are quick to move away from the area, hiding in their shops or shoving past him to get through the tunnel. He heads down the stairs, taking his time and trying to figure out where the shot came from.
The second squire moves towards her and his head flies back, a hole between his eyes and his brains splattering across the ground. One Knight shoves the other one and points at their dead squire’s, “Did you not take her fucking gun?”
He’s been in those suits. He remembers how it felt, the power you get from being in them. How they make you feel like a big man. He also remembers how fucking slow they could be. She’s on her feet and running for cover before they can even start to grab her.
She dives behind a stall and tugs a knife out of her boot, sawing at the ropes around her wrists. He can’t reach her before the fighting starts. Someone in the remaining crowd shouts, “Grab her! Get the bounty!” And all hell breaks loose.
Someone runs at him and he shoots them before they can grab him. Shots start going off, the Knight’s mowing down anyone who tries to swoop in on their bounty. Everyone else is shooting blindly, just trying to get rid of the competition so they can claim her bounty as their own.
He ducks under the hail fire and slides next to her as she’s reloading her gun. She glances over at him and frowns, “Didn’t I kill you?”
He hears a shout and watches as some half-feral woman charges at them. She shoots her dead and turns back to him. He gives her a wry smile, “You want to do this now, sweetheart?”
She peers over her cover and surveys the chaos going on around them. She sighs and glances back at him, “Why aren’t you dead?”
He tugs one of his specially made bullets out of his bag and loads it into his gun. He lifts himself to his knees and aims at the weak spot on the Knight’s chest plate. They both watch as blood explodes out of the neck of the power armor, the Knight’s friend cussing as he watches him die.
“Next time,” she turns to look at him, “aim for the head,” he instructs. She glares at him before making her way to Ma June’s shop. He follows, not willing to let her out of his sight again, and she ducks behind the barrels of supplies in front of the shop.
“Clearly,” she winces as the Knight’s gun starts firing off again, “I’m not making it out of here on my own.” They dive to the side as bullets rip through the barrels they’re leaning against. They’re not gonna have cover for much longer.
He grins at her, “Sounds like you’re asking me for a favor, darling.”
The sounds of screams and bodies dropping is nearly deafening. A few feet away a bullet catches a man in the throat and he drops to the ground. They watch as he chokes on his blood and tries to claw his way to safety. Steps rapidly approach them and she turns to shoot a different man, his body dropping an inch away from them.
He turns back to her and his lips turn down, “After you tried to kill me? You want my help,” he laughs at her and she glares.
Before she can speak a voice rings out above them, “I got her!” He shoots at the woman on the upper level above them, half of her leg gets blown off and she tumbles over the railing, narrowly missing the pair.
He turns back to her, “You’re asking a lot, darling.”
“You’ve fucking shot me, twice. I’m not asking you for anything.” Her lips turn down in a sneer and she looks at him like the very sight of him disgusts her. “I don't need your help. I don't need you.” She glances back over her shoulder, surveying the gore and the bullets flying around them. She checks her gun and he sees just how little ammo she has left. “I’ll handle this myself.” She snaps the chamber of her gun closed and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and yanks her back down, ignoring the angry expression on her face.
“Look, you might not want my help, but you need it, sweetheart. Just stay here.”
You watch as Cooper runs off, his guns firing before he’s even fully standing. You only wait a second before you’re running into Ma June’s and out her back door. She shouts at you as you barrel through her shop, knocking over her displays and shelves, but you can’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge.
You’re surprised Cooper was stupid enough to think you would actually wait for him. The Knight’s had called for an air evac out of Filly and if you stay there any longer you’ll be back in the compound before you can blink.
You’ve spent a month evading them, you’re not about to let yourself get caught because of Cooper.
You can’t believe he’s not dead. It’s not like you’ve been losing sleep over killing him, but it’s been hard to cope with the fact that you killed the man that was once the love of your life. Seeing him again, though, you wished you had shot him in his smug face.
You’d forgotten, in the time apart, just how condescending he could be. He seemed to think you needed him to survive. You didn’t.
At best, he provided the comfort of company. Poorly.
Despite how much he undervalued you, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. You didn’t need him to save you. You would have figured your way out of there on your own, eventually. You’ve handled yourself a month in the Wastelands without him. You learned how to carve an existence for yourself out here and you did it without help.
You race into the woods beyond Filly, putting as much distance between you and the sounds of fighting as quickly as you can. The trees around you begin to shake, the ground vibrating and a swirl of dirt and leaves rises into the air and whips you in the face.
You look up and begin pushing yourself faster. One of the Brotherhood’s Vertibird’s is circling Filly. “This is not a hostile landing! Please remain calm!” You blame your distraction on the announcement.
You would have heard him coming up behind you if you hadn’t been listening to whatever the Brotherhood was saying. Rope loops around your arms and you’re yanked backwards. Your head thumps painfully hard against the forest floor, rocks scraping you as you’re dragged across the ground.
Cooper’s face appears over yours, a cruel smile on his lips. “Now, this seems awfully familiar.” He walks around you, boots straddling your waist and grabs you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back to your feet. “I thought I told you to stay put, sweetheart.”
You frown at him, shoving your leg up between his. He groans, doubling over while you shimmy out of the loose rope. “Honestly, after all the shit that’s happened you think I’m gonna listen to anything you say?” You step back from him, brushing the dirt off your clothes as best you can.
You sigh in frustration when you realize that when the Knight’s had grabbed you, you’d lost your supplies. Cooper looks up at you and scoffs, “Missing something?” You eye his bag on the ground and start to go for it. He pulls the hammer of his gun back and you glance towards him. You’d forgotten what a quick draw he could be.
He’s fully recovered now, eyes narrowed in on you and gun pointed right at your chest. “See, a bullet to the chest might not kill me, but I reckon it’ll do a hell of a lot of damage to you. Why don’t you back up for me, sweetheart?”
You let go of his bag and slowly back away from him. He keeps his gun trained on you and stoops down, throwing his bag back over his shoulder. Your eyes dart to the hat on his head and your lips curl up when you spot the hole you’d put in it.
Two hundred years and he’s kept that hat nearly pristine, you take no small amount of pride in being the one to ruin it.
“The Brotherhood will be swarming these woods in a few minutes. They’re not gonna be too happy about one of their Knight’s being dead. Come with me, I can help you out.”
You scoff, “Like I’ll ever trust you again. You’ve shot me, sold me, and left me for dead, Cooper.”
He huffs, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a sardonic grin. You can tell he’s getting pissed off. “The choice is yours,” he tucks his gun back in his holster and turns on his heels. You watch in surprise as he stalks away from you. You had fully expected him to put up more of a fight, it almost hurts that he left so easily again.
Then you hear the sounds of orders being shouted behind you. Metal creaking and stomping through the underbrush and you realize he hadn’t left but forced you between a rock and a hard place. You could follow him or let yourself get captured by the Brotherhood.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You risk a glance over your shoulder and spot a rapidly approaching party of squires. You run in the direction Cooper went and find him leaning casually against a tree, a satisfied look on his face when he spots you. “Don’t say a word,” you warn, shoving past him.
He glances at her from across the fire and finds himself feeling almost at ease for the first time in a month. It’s been a while since he’s looked up to actually find her staring back at him. She might look like she wants to kill him, but she’s here.
“You have to admit, we make a pretty good team, darling.”
She gives him an unimpressed look, “Yeah, Cooper, we’re so great at murdering people.” She looks over to the dead bodies of the raiders they’d stolen this camp from and shakes her head. “I forgot how much death you surround yourself with.”
“I surround myself with? Might I remind you, you fired the first shot, sweetheart.” Granted, he had shoved her out of her hiding spot and given her no choice about it.
Her head shoots up and she glares at him, “You made me!” She opens her mouth and he grins. He enjoys provoking her like this. Even if the last time he had she’d shot him because of it, but it’s fun to rile her up. She always gets so pissed off, it entertains him to no end.
To his disappointment, she closes her mouth and shakes her head, choosing not to engage with him. He sighs and rips off a piece of jerky. “When did you turn into such a wet fucking blanket?”
Her eyes flare with anger, despite that, he can hear how hurt she really is. “Maybe when you sold me!”
He tilts his head and runs his tongue over his teeth, “You ever gonna let that go? I told you it was a mistake. How was I supposed to know they were gonna breed you like a prize pig?”
She scoffs, the noise high pitched and shocked. She shakes her head and stares at him with wide eyes, “You are unbelievable.” He shrugs and takes a swig from the flask he’d stolen off one of the raiders. He’s not sure how they make their alcohol, or if they trade for it, but it’s fucking disgusting. He frowns at the flask and drains the rest of it before tossing it into the woods behind him.
She sighs and runs a hand over her face, her voice tired as she asks, “What’s the plan here, Cooper?”
He picks at his teeth and shakes his head, “With what?”
She leans against the log behind her and gestures at herself. “With me. What, are you going to wait for me to pass out so you can tie me up and send me back to the compound? I’ve seen the price on my head. I know how valuable I am to everyone in the Wastelands.”
He doesn’t know why what she’s saying bothers him so much but it does. “You really think I’d send you back there?”
Her face is devoid of anything as she responds, “Why wouldn’t you?”
It’s the bluntness with which she asks that, that bugs him. Like there’s no other possibility but him betraying her. Taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable and weak and then handing her over to the people who want her dead. He wouldn’t do that to her.
He didn’t go through all this fucking trouble to find her just to lose her again. He wants to tell her as much but she’s on her feet and grabbing her bag before he can. “Look, I appreciate the help today, but I’m not interested in starting this partnership back up again. I think it’s better if we just part ways.”
He whips his gun out before he can think about what he’s doing. She freezes, still bent over and eyes his gun warily. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, darling.” He can’t let her leave again. And maybe this isn’t the best way to go about it, but he doesn’t know how else to stop her.
“You gonna shoot me, Cooper?” She whispers, her own hand twitching for the revolver at her side. He stands up and grabs her wrists, ignoring the way she struggles against him. He binds her hands with his rope and he sits back down,
“I’m not gonna turn you in and I’m not gonna shoot you. But you’re not getting out of here that easy, sweetheart.”
Her eyes narrow in on his, her fists clenched tightly in anger. “I killed two men with my hands bound today. What’s stopping me from killing you?”
He shrugs, “Nothing. There’s nothing stopping you, just like there’s nothing stopping me. But I’m not killing you, am I? See,” he leans forward, “I’ve fought too hard and spent too much time looking after you to just let you go now. We’re in this together, whether you want it or not.”
Her lips split in a sneer and she throws herself down on the log. “You’re all the fucking same. You treat me like a goddamn dog that needs to be beat into submission. I’m not some misbehaving pet, Cooper!” Her eyes well up and her voice breaks, “You don’t get to just leash me and expect me to be okay with it.”
“I’m under no illusions that you’re happy here, sweetheart.” He runs a hand down his face and she shakes her head in disbelief.
“Then just let me go,” she’s bordering on begging now and his chest squeezes the longer she stares at him with those pleading eyes of hers. It’s not something he’s familiar with, this feeling, this longing for her to just shut the fuck up and stop making this so damn difficult for him.
“I can’t,” he mutters, wanting her to just drop it.
“Why not?” She snaps, dropping any pretenses of trying to get him to sympathize with her.
He surges forward and grabs her by the jaw. Her eyes widen in shock and he smashes their lips together, teeth clashing painfully. There’s nothing gentle or sweet about this kiss. Her teeth are ripping into his scarred lips until the taste of copper is spreading on his tongue. He groans, digging his fingers into her cheeks until her lips part.
His tongue probes against hers, the taste of his blood spreading into her mouth as well. She whimpers, the noise stirring something in him he’d forgotten about. There’s an old desire bubbling in him that’s making him blind to the rest of the world. He wants her, more than he ever wants to admit.
He’s wanted her for a long time before this and they both know it. How hard he’s fought against it, against moments like these. He didn’t think he was still capable of this feeling, this desire for her. But it’s consuming. She’s ruining him, running him in circles until he thinks he’s going insane.
But it’s not the same gentle passion it once was. It’s as twisted as he’s become. The desire to possess, consume, covet until she’s his and only his to do with what he wants. His teeth dig into her, letting her blood overcome the taste of his own. He groans, his free hand grabbing her waist and yanking her closer.
She tastes so much sweeter than he does, he wants to rip a chunk of her off and eat her whole. He’s so distracted he doesn't even notice her pulling out her gun until he’s shooting back from her. He lands roughly on the forest floor and groans, hands clutched over the bleeding hole in his gut. Pain radiates through his abdomen and he rolls onto his side.
He looks up at her in shock. She’s spitting their blood onto the ground, her bound hands wiping at her lips. “Asshole,” she mutters. She tucks her gun back in her holster and looks over at him.
His eyes are wide in disbelief as he struggles to sit back up. The movement causes another wave of pain and he hisses through gritted teeth, “You shot me!”
She rolls her eyes and gives him a blank look, “You’ll live.” He limps back to his own seat and lifts his shirt, watching as the hole closes over slowly and the blood stops leaking. She watches as he heals and sighs, “Unfortunately.” He tugs it back down and sighs at the state of his shirt.
“My shirt won’t.” He digs a finger into the hole and tugs on it, watching as it rips wider. Two hundred years he’s kept these clothes, she ruins them in a month. Un-fucking-believable.
“Sew it,” she gripes, still wiping at her mouth. “I can’t believe you just fucking kissed me,” she frowns and spits again, bits of crimson lingering on her lips.
He sighs and leans back against the tree. “Felt right in the moment.” It did, he wants to do it again. They’re even now, they’ve both shot each other twice. No reason for her to shoot again.
He wants to feel the way she shivers against him and moans into his mouth. She can be pissed all she wants but she kissed back, she can’t deny that. He’s sure if she wasn’t tied up she’d be a bit more receptive to him. Or maybe she just needs time to cool off after the whole compound incident, a month seems like a reasonable amount of time. Then again, women are so damn unreasonable.
She tugs a knife out of her boot and positions it between her knees. She places it between her wrists and saws at the rope until it falls free. She slides the knife back in her boot and tosses the ruined rope at him.
He catches it with a sigh and glances up at her. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”
Her eyes are alight with a challenge, “I wanted to see if you would let me go yourself.” Well, clearly, he had failed her little test. “I wanted to see if there was even a possibility I could ever trust you again.”
He gives her an unimpressed look, slightly pissed off about his shirt. He never should have taught her how to shoot. If he’d known it would come back to bite him in the ass he wouldn’t have. “And?”
She gives him a disbelieving look and shakes her head. “And instead of letting me go, you kissed me.“ She throws her hands up in astonishment and glares at him. “Why the hell would you think that was a good idea?”
He smirks and revels in the way she shivers at the sight. “Well, darling, I’ve always been better with actions not words.”
“Yeah,” her voice is a challenge, eyes hard and jaw clenched tightly in frustration. He loves the sight of her all riled up. He loves it even more knowing he’s the one getting her like this. “What were you trying to tell me with that little display?”
He doesn’t answer her question, not wanting to just yet. “You liked it, didn’t you?” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away from him. He laughs, leaning back and giving her a smug look. “You can be pissed off at me as much as you want, sweetheart,” the nickname rolls off his tongue like a taunt and she sneers at him. “But you want me just the same as you used to.”
“Do you like hurting me? Is that why you keep me around? You’ve been alone for two hundred years, Cooper. And for the majority of them you’ve harbored this hatred for me because you thought I had abandoned you just like everyone else.”
Her words strike a place deep inside him that has him on edge. She knows what she’s doing. He’s forgotten, in his time with her, that in the same way he can get under her skin, she can do it too. She knows him just as well, she’s just always been the better half of their duo. She never feels the need to stoop to the level he does. But she’s doing it now and it feels like a kick in the teeth.
“And I’m the only one that’s actually stuck by you.” She laughs, but there’s an underlying pain to it. She looks away from him and wipes at her cheeks and his fists clench within his gloves. “Is this your revenge? You think by torturing me you get back at everyone whose ever fucked you over. I’m sick of it, Cooper. I’m not gonna let you use me anymore.”
“I feel for you,” he forces the words out. He doesn’t want to tell her this. He shouldn’t have to tell her this. She should just stick with him, it’s what they’d always done, it’s how it always should be. Them, together. But she’s fighting against that, against him, so much that he doesn’t have a choice.
She’s backed him into a corner he doesn’t know how to get out of. “In a way I haven’t in a very long time. I can’t let you go. Don’t you get that, sweetheart? We’re in this together.”
She shakes her head and he sighs. “No,” she looks at him and just shakes her head again. “No, you don’t love me, Cooper, or you don’t want me at least. I’m not the same girl I was, that’s what you’re after. That idea in your head, of us together, that’s who I was. You were right, the Wastelands changes you. I can’t be her for you and I don’t want to be.”
He chuckles and she shrinks away from the sound in suspicion. “Newsflash, darling, I’m not the same man. I loved you a long time ago, sweetheart, but I’m not capable of that anymore. Not for the girl you were, anyway.”
She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she accepted the answer, but he could see beyond that, could see that she thought he was rejecting her. It hurt, she could hate him as much as she wanted, but that still hurt her. “Good,” she muttered, “she’s gone.”
“Well, good.” She shrank further into herself and he grinned. “You. You as you are now. That’s what I want. I don’t give a shit about who we were, the only person I’ve wanted since I’ve been out here has been you. You’re the only person I’ve met who can actually keep up with me. I don’t give a shit if anyone in this godforsaken Wasteland lives or dies, but I give a shit about you. You’re also the only one who can knock me on my ass.”
Her eyes darted to the hole in his shirt and a small grin came over her lips. “Haven’t been shot a lot, have you, cowboy?”
“No,” he chuckles again and grins at her, “I haven’t. Though, I am still pretty pissed about the hole in my hat.”
Her tone loses a bit of her playfulness and she glares at him, “You more than earned that.”
He acquiesces and holds up his hands in surrender, “Maybe.” She scoffs at that and rolls her eyes. “But I think we’re even now.”
“Barely,” she mutters, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists. She glances up at him and sighs, a surrender in her eyes. “But, it’s close enough now.”
He stands up and she eyes him warily as he throws himself down on the log next to her. He holds out a hand, “What do you say, darling, partners?”
She sighs and stares at his hand for a long time. He doesn’t mind, he leaves it there, hovering between them. He knows she’ll take it. “Deny it as much as you want but this is how it’s meant to be. You can keep fighting it or save us both some time.”
She reaches forward and tentatively wraps a hand around his, she uses it to yank him forward, their faces separated by an inch. “Shoot me again,” she whispers, “and I won’t miss the next time I knock you on your ass.”
“Oh shit,” you jump at the kickback on the rifle and nearly drop it to the ground. Cooper laughs and reaches around you, taking it from you.
“Maybe I should have started you off with something with a little less kick to it.” He props the rifle against the tree and glances over to the cans you’d been shooting at. Well, you’d gotten one out of five at least.
In all fairness this was the first time you’d ever handled a gun, you’re sure you’re doing fine for a beginner. He sucks on his teeth and looks at your targets. The serious look on his face cracks and he’s clearly trying to fight off laughing.
You shove at his shoulder, smiling, “Shut up. I’ve never used one of these things before.”
He picks the rifle back up and starts laughing now, “You mean a gun?”
You throw your arms in the air in defeat and slump into the patio chairs he’s dragged to the back of the cabin. “This is pointless, anyway.” He cocks the rifle and lifts it up to aim properly. In quick succession he knocks the remaining four cans off the fence. You roll your eyes at him, “Show off.”
He smiles and takes a seat next to you. You remain silent for a while, gazing across the yard and to the towering mountains across from his cabin. You appreciate him inviting you here. When you’d told him how overwhelmed you’d been feeling with all the new publicity you hadn’t expected him to drag you all the way out to his mountain home.
You wouldn’t have accepted if you’d known it was just going to be you and him. You’d thought he was bringing his wife and kid, too. Spending a long weekend playing house with Cooper wasn’t going to do anything in getting rid of your crush. It was just getting worse the longer you were around him.
Waking up everyday and having him be the first person to greet you was going to send you into an early grave. You swear your heart’s never beat this fast around anyone else. He seems to be the only man who's ever had you feeling this head over heels.
“I think it’s important you learn.”
You glance over at him, surprised at how serious he sounds. He’s still staring out at the mountains, but his gaze is distant. His mind is some place else. “Why?” You ask, voice quiet, afraid to spoil the moment.
He finally blinks, gaze darting down to his hands and the rifle still in them. “It’s easy for people to dismiss the war nowadays. They weren’t there, they didn’t watch as hundreds of good men and women died for them.” You frown, sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’d been fighting on the frontlines. He’s so good at being a socialite, you feel guilty that even you sometimes forget he was a soldier before he was Cooper Howard.
His voice is heavy, the tension thick around the both of you. “They seem to think the war is over. I know it’s not, it’s just going to get worse. People can bury their heads in the sand as long as they want, but when the fighting is at their front door, what are they going to do?”
You reach out, hand covering his own. He finally looks up at you and you smile. “I appreciate it, Cooper.”
His eyes quickly look at your hand before looking back at you. “For what?”
You shrug, moving closer to him and lacing your fingers with his. You shouldn’t indulge yourself like this, but you can’t help it. He seems so sad and you only want to make him feel better. You just want to take care of him, the way he takes care of you.
“For always looking out for me. You’re always there, I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”
The sad cast over his face finally breaks and he smiles at you. His hand squeezes yours once, then again and he looks back out at the mountains without saying anything else. You don’t think he needs to, that either of you needs to. Sometimes you understand each other better without words.
You’ll always be there for one another.
You eye him warily and he holds the jerky out further. “Aren’t you a little curious?” He taunts, waving the jerky around in front of your face. You know he thinks you won’t take it. That he’s just screwing with you. He’s been doing this ever since you agreed to tag along with him. Teasing you at every given opportunity.
You snatch it from his hands and rip a piece of it off. It kind of tastes like beef, if not a little sweeter. There’s also that metallic radiated tang to it. You chew it slowly, savoring the slightly caught off guard look on his face. You swallow it down, forcing your face to stay straight and not give away how disgusted you feel right now.
He chuckles, leaning back and looking at you with something that seems like appreciation. “I hope you know that was ass jerky.”
You gag now, glaring at him and tossing the rest of the jerky at his smug face. “You’re such a dick.” You take a swig from your canteen and swirl the water around your mouth. It gets rid of the taste well enough but you’re never going to get over the fact that you swallowed a part of someone’s ass.
He suddenly gets serious, swatting at your arm and motioning to the front of the store. You crouch beside him, watching as a raider walks out of the front doors. You don’t get why they chose an old movie store for their hideout, but Cooper had it on good authority that they had a decent cache of supplies inside.
The last time you’d followed him into one of these things, you’d nearly died, and then he’d sold you. You’re still not fully trusting of him. The only reason you’re with him now is because you need extra security from bounty hunters after getting booted out of Filly.
If he wasn’t such a good shot, you would have never given him a second glance. Despite how much he insists the compound was an honest mistake, you find the trust slow to come. You’ll let him take the lead on this one, you’re not confident in him having your back if things take a turn.
He moves forward and you hang back, keeping watch while he slits the guard’s throat. He lowers the body quietly to the ground and you creep behind him, following him through the doors of the store.
This group is smaller than the last one you dealt with. Only five of them with no extra guards outside. Cooper ducks behind a dust covered shelf before they can spot either of you. You go to the other side of the store, moving slowly along the edge until you have a good shot.
You take out one man and Cooper manages to hit two more before they start firing off their own guns. You dart back behind the shelf, willing to let Cooper handle the last two. But one of them dives behind the shelf and grabs at you.
Another shot goes off and his friend’s body hits the ground while he rounds the corner with you. He’s got an arm wrapped around your throat and the barrel of his gun pushing so hard into your skull you can feel an indent forming.
It wouldn’t be hard to shoot this guy, you still have your gun in your hand. Cooper seems to realize that, too, from the questioning look he gives you. You drop your gun to the floor, you want to see what he’ll do.
Maybe you’re stupid, gambling with your life like this. But you don’t feel any fear, not from the guy holding you hostage at least. You just keep your eyes locked on Cooper’s. They’re so familiar to you, yet so distant. Like a stranger you’ve known all your life.
He slowly rises from the floor, hands raised in the air in surrender. “Alright, let’s just see if we can’t talk this out like gentlemen.”
The guy holding you jerks you roughly, gun banging painfully against your temple. You wince but remain quiet. “Stay back or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”
Cooper’s eyes dart from your face to the guy. He huffs, frowning and pursing his lips like he’s trying to think of a way to talk himself out of this. He could leave, he’s got enough time to make it through the door before he fires at him.
Or he could help you.
It’s the only reason you let yourself get caught. If he wants your trust he’s going to have to prove it. Cooper looks at you and a grin splits across his face. It’s like he’s read your mind, from the knowing look on his face you think he might’ve.
Then again, you never really needed words to talk to each other.
With a speed that never fails to catch you off guard his hand darts under his jacket and he draws his gun. He’s shooting the man before you even get a chance to brace yourself. Your body gets dragged back slightly by the dead weight but Cooper moves forward and wraps a hand around your shirt, tugging you into him.
Your hands shoot out, bracing yourself against his chest. He peers at you from under his hat and grins, “You didn’t really think I was gonna let you go that easy did you, darling?” Your eyes dart down to his lips, you feel like you can still taste him.
The timing of his kiss might not have been appropriate, but he certainly hadn’t made it forgettable. Nothing about him was forgettable. As much as you wished he could be. You hated yourself for still letting yourself fall into his trap.
Hollywood might have once labeled you as the most seductive actress of your generation, but Cooper had you beat. He kept you coming back even when you knew you shouldn’t. He had you wrapped around him and all you wanted to do was squeeze until he let you go.
You push off of him, ignoring how much you want to pull him closer. You move towards their pile of supplies, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
There are a few different posters set up in the old movie store that intrigue him. But the one that’s caught his attention the most is set up directly behind her. Her back is to it, so she hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, but it’s all he can focus on.
The Outlaw and The Sheriff
Their first movie together.
He looks at her and huffs out a laugh, she glances up at him for a moment before she begins rifling through her bag again. She looks like she walked right off the fucking poster, hat and all. She’s the spitting image of herself, but she seems so different.
Maybe it’s the eyes. The light there has changed, dimmed slightly from how it used to be. She used to seem so naive to the world, like a little lamb that just needed some guidance. Now, he wonders just how much of the world she’d seen before he found her. If maybe she had never been as innocent to it’s cruelties as he’d once assumed.
She stepped into this new role of hers just as quickly as he had. You didn’t just change that quickly without knowing already just how awful people could be.
“Sweetheart,” she looks up and he points behind her. She turns around and looks up to the poster.
She scoffs, moving to stand beside him, “I always hated how I looked in that.”
He glances over at her and shakes his head, “Probably shouldn’t show you a mirror anytime soon, then.” Her hands reach up to fiddle with the brim of her hat and she smiles, a real smile for once.
“No, I suppose not.” Her hands trace over her lips, he glances back at the poster. At that old signature of hers. She always had to have those red lips. “It’s so different,” she whispers and he knows she didn’t mean for him to hear. Her eyes glisten and he frowns.
He shouldn’t have shown her. It’s not like he enjoyed seeing those fucking Vault-Boy posters, he sure as hell hated seeing clips of himself. Why would she enjoy seeing who she used to be? Who they used to be?
Things used to be so simple. He loved her, she loved him. Now he’d fucked up so much he wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the way she used to. He didn’t want who she was before, he couldn’t handle that. This new her, well, he didn’t give her near enough credit.
But he wouldn’t hate seeing someone look at him like that again. Endless adoration and unflinching loyalty. He knew he would follow her anywhere, he’d realized that a while ago. He didn’t have anything in the Wastelands, nothing but hate and spite to keep him going all this time.
Now, he had her. He just needed her to realize that she had him just the same. She had him wrapped around her and he hated it and loved it at the same time. Hated her and loved her for it all the same.
He tugs his glove off before he reaches for her. He cups her cheek, thumb tracing over her lips before she turns towards him. His eyes meet hers and he smiles slightly at the familiarity and mystery to them. So much of her he recognizes and then there are these new parts he’s yet to discover.
He wants to discover all of her. Learn everything he can about her all over again, feed his desire to consume her entirely.
She pulls him in this time, her lips chapped and cracked. Her arms wind around his neck, yanking him closer and he tugs at her. She tastes as sweet as he remembers and it only makes him crave more. More of her, more of anything she’ll let him have.
She pulls back from him, pressing her hand against his chest, slowly backing him against the wall. He lets her ease him to the floor and she throws a leg over his lap. She settles herself above him, both her hands tightly grasping his neck, crushing their bodies together, eyes gazing intently into his own. He doesn’t know what she’s looking for in him but she seems to find it when she leans in once more.
She isn’t giving him a chance at control, she’s got a leash on him, pulling back anytime he tries to lead. He relents, following her as she slowly explores him.
He’s not sure how long this peace between them will last before one of them inevitably fucks up. But they’re stuck together now. It doesn’t matter what happens, he’s not letting her get away from him again.
She’s his, always has been, always will be. It’s been that way since before the fallout. He’s led her, guided her.
He had loved her as a different man. History always seems to repeat itself with them. As twisted as the world is, as twisted as they’ve become, they always seem to drift back together. No matter how much the both of them fight against it.
He’s giving in now, giving into her.
end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#fallout x reader#fallout tv series#how about a nuke?#cooper howard#the ghoul
256 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi ok so I was wondering if you can do a comfort fic with joost? Like joost sees readers past SH scars and reader really hates them and finds them disgusting but joost just kisses readers wrist and reader just starts bawling 😔🫶 if this makes u uncomfortable you don’t have to write it I won’t be upset! 🫶🫶🫶
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ STRAWBERRY GASHES⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𝄞⨾“Watch me falter, Your living like a disaster. She said kill me faster with strawberry gashes all over” - jack off Jill𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
Summary: you have self harm scars but you’ve never told your boyfriend, Joost. One day you forget about the scars and wear somthing that reveals them. Much to your surprise Joost isn’t as disgusted in them as you are.
Note: thank you for all the love on my last fic, I am currently running on….0 hours of sleep and it’s like 1pm where I live so I’m pretty exhausted so this will probably be my last fic for today unless I get bored! Also!! I see all y’all’s requests and even though I don’t respond right away doesn’t mean I’m ignoring them or don’t see them! I like to respond to the request with the fic so you won’t know I saw it until the actual fic comes out! ^_^
Warnings: SELF HARM TW!! other then that just comfort and fluff >~<
༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚ ༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚ ༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚
You and Joost had been together for a few months and everything was going great! He loved you more than anyone else ever could, even if they tried. He held you when you felt anxious or upset. Felt excited with you when you were happy and made sure you were always take care of. Always.
But there was one thing you hid from him, something that ate you alive every single day. Joost always questioned with a chuckle why you wore long sleeves in 90 degree weather but you just shrugged it off, saying you were always cold. That was a lie, you were sweating but you were also hiding something that’d hurt you a little more than a little sweat.
Your old sh scars. You struggled with it on a daily basis, sure they were old but they still managed to haunt you. You felt disgusted by yourself everytime you caught glimpses of them and you were sure Joost would too. I mean…who would want a partner that has scars like that.?
Today was the day you find out because being to caught up in excitement to hang out with Joost you forgot about the scars that littered your arms (or anywhere else, so so sorry to be so an inclusive ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)) you put on a pair of your favorite shorts and shirt and head out the door to joosts place, not even looking twice.
Once you arrive, an equally excited Joost greats you and drags you to his room. You weren’t even thinking about it, so in love with your boyfriend to even care. He didn’t even notice either, finding every part of you perfect…until.
Until you lifted your arm in a certain way, that put your scars on full display. You noticed that Joost stoped mid speaking and looked over to him to see his face that was full of emotion that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It was a mix of sadness, confusion, fear, and shock.
You look at him confused until your eyes follow his that were deadpan staring right at your scars. You gasp softly and cover your scars, sitting up immediately. You felt ringing in your ears and your heart rate quickening. You lower your head and feel the tears of shame and embarrassment start to burn in your eyes.
You feel the touch of your beloveds soft fingertips grab your hand, interlocking y’all’s fingers and pulling your arm towards him. You keep your head down and squeeze your eyes shut trying to block everything out.
When you suddenly felt soft kisses on the places your scars were spread. Your eyes snap open and your head raises to look at Joost. He presses soft and gentle kisses on every.singe.scar. He makes sure to press 3 to each one for good measure.
Your heart feels heavy and you just burst into tears, Joost is close to tears as well. Once hes done you immediately jump into his arms, he strokes your back and whispers soft words of praise to you waiting for you to calm down.
Once you’re calmer, only small tears flowing down your wet cheeks he props you in his lap and holds you close. “I knew something was up when you kept wearing all those long sleeves..” he whispers almost kicking himself for not noticing sooner.
“I-I’m sorry… they’re old I promise!! A-and I just didn’t want you to see because they’re ugly and i just didn’t-” your cut off by a soft kiss being pressed to your lips. “Shh…you don’t have to give any explanation or reason unless you want to, okay?” He speaks with that signature smile that you loved so dearly
“You’re…you’re not disgusted.?” You ask looking up at him, he almost looks exasperated at your words. His eyes widening and mouth parting. “Disgusted.?! Why the hell would I be disgusted mijn geliefde, you’re so beautiful to me. Everything about you, even your scars.” He says with a soft smile and a kiss to your head.
“They’re gross, I ruined my skin and now they’re gonna be there forever…” you argue as you lower your head back down and play with his fingers, “so? Who cares, first of all they’re not gross, they’re not disgusting, you’re not ugly and will never be ugly. You’re not ruined and they just show how much of a fighter you are baby. Nothing to be ashamed about, promise.” He says interlocking your pinkies together
You smile and giggle softly, tears still staining your cheeks which Joost quickly kissed away making you laugh and push his head away, “Joost that tickles!!” You squeal as he smiles and peppers ticklish kisses over your face.
You knew no matter what you looked like or what happened or hell even what you went through he would always be there for you. He would forever and always be your biggest supporter. He loved you for you and nothing less.
#joost x fem reader#Joost x male reader#joost klein x reader#joost x reader#joost klein#joost klein x you#justice for joost
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
|| Apologies III | An Ode to Nipples
Warnings: 18+ explicitly written accounts of sex acts and male masturbation, John Egan going on too long about nipples to make up for Julie doubting he liked hers, a joke about their censor wanting to harm himself.
Previous Letter 💌
Full co-authored with my baby @stylespresleyhearted …in fact, majorly authored by her with me only tinkering, she has these two down to a science and let’s all make her take a bow
My dearest,
In trying to be a gentleman it seems I have offended you and for that I must once again apologize. I never meant to make you doubt yourself or that lovely photograph
-I swear to you I sleep with it in my fist, clutched to my chest every night. So no, you see, you can’t have it back. I've already warned everyone else I'll kill them if they ever even try to peek. Balls are on the line for even coming within a yard of my foot locker. I am your virtue’s most valiant defender. Lucky for us, my bunkmate Lt. John Brady is a good man. No threats needed from me to ensure he keeps a wide berth from my new possessions. He’s a good kid - looks up to me according to Buck and that’s a scary thought in itself.
Oh Jean this just all feels like a dream and I’d be heartbroken upon waking up. Buck convinced me to try to be better, that a woman of your status and money and loveliness deserved someone who wouldn’t ramble about giving you babies and A.C.O.R.N but be assured I’ve smacked Buck around the head since because his advice made me hurt you.
It was gut instinct to first write you, and it wasn’t pretty when I did, but if it matched yours, then maybe our guts belong together, no sprucing up needed. I’ll try to keep it that way, I’ll try to keep spilling my guts to you, if that's what you want.
Since receiving your photograph I find myself unable to be satisfied by my doing or anyone else’s. It may interest you to know I went to the bar last Thursday and strenuously chatted up a girl there who had the largest breasts around, but still they and she did not compare to you.
I found myself thinking yours would bounce and hit your chin, and I’d be a gentleman and hold them for you.
Don’t take me wrong, the dame was a good time and she took real good care of me. Let me slip in between her beautiful pair and let me call her by your name.
But she was not you, Acorn, and so I was still left hard as rod and needing more. Needing you. My hand does nothing for me either anymore and all my thoughts are only of you and your magnificent pair that you deemed me worthy enough to look at. And oh Julie, how I look at you! I wonder if you’d blush or just be pleased.
I wrap my hand around myself and I squeeze and I tug and I pull and it takes about three rounds before the little major goes down. Buck tells me I’m going to start chafing soon enough if I keep it up. I’m telling you this in pure honesty and because thinking of you believing for a second that you aren’t the epitome of the dream girl for me kills me. It hurts, Julie Jean and I’ve never hurt for a girl before. Maybe for girls back during my school days but nothing like this and it’s been so long now I can barely remember it.
Women now, as beautiful and charming and smart as they are, they do just to pass the time but you are different. And I promise here and now Miss Turner, that I vow to never try to impress you or be any more of a gentleman than I am. I will be honest with my desires regarding you like telling you I had a dream you took me in that pouty mouth of yours and you were making the most obscene sounds but I knew you were only asking for more. You don’t remember meeting me at the canteen but I remember how tiny you are compared to me and it’d be a struggle to fit all of me in you but we would make it work. Neither of us are ones to give up.
This dream was the first night since my first mission that I haven’t had a nightmare without having to drink.
You’re a goddamn tonic, baby cakes.
I dream of those large nipples of yours and of being able to take them in my mouth. Of tugging on them until they become tiny and angry and pointy. I could entertain myself with them for hours. Since receiving your letter and reading your insecurities on paper that I left you with, I've hated myself every day and I fear I will hate myself until I hear from you again. I hope to hear from you again, Julie. I really do. In this lifestyle it’s frightening for me to think about getting to have a future but you are the light at the end of all this fucked up tragedy I’m surrounded by. Don’t give up on me, Julie Jean, my heart couldn’t bear it. It’s become unalterably attached to you, I swear it. The only gal whose arms I want to come home to are yours. It’d be an immeasurable dream come true; the sweetest reward after the war.
Until I hear from you again my loveliest, favorite lady.
Your fool only,
John
P.S. attached is a photo of me and another one of me and Buck taken by one of our fellow men. I’ve never been one to shy away from anything in life so I’m not afraid to embarrass myself for you and let you know that big, doofus smile on my face (one that usually only a call from my mother or a snarky remark from Buck can illicit) is because the boys were ribbing me about you, Jean. It’s what thinking of you does to me; it brings me happiness during these trying times. Don’t mind Buck. He’s blushing because I’m reminding him he also took great interest in the photograph you gifted me. I’m sorry for that acorn, it fell out of the envelope and he picked it up but it isn’t something I'm sharing with anyone as I’ve assured you. Goodbye for now, sweetest, prettiest, favoritest of ladies -because it is just for now, you’ll hear from me again if I don’t hear from ya first, and with that I fear we’ve just committed our poor censor to the noose.
💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.
MOTA taglist, I only have one so ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for:
@stylespresleyhearted
@ab4eva
@earth-to-lottie
@suraemoon
@blurredcolour
@steph-speaks
@crazymadpassionatelove
@rubyfruitjungle
@taestrwbrry
@storysimp
@javden
@sexualparkour
@jointherebellion215
@sunny747
@ask-you-what-sir
@xxanaduwrites
@pretty4u
@yorkshirekiwi
@waitedforlove743
@elvismylove04
@blikebarbie92
@luminouslywriting
@justheretoreadthxxs
@bookotter01
@mads-weasley
@ka-ski
@darkestbeforethedawn16
@slowsweetlove
@richardslady121
@barbeygirl
@prfctplcsreads
@vaf24
@harrys-housewife
@claireelizabeth85
@pearlparty
@piastrinho
@sapienti0sat
@atrophyingaphrodite
#john egan fanfiction#john egan#john egan fic#john egan x reader#john egan x female reader#acorn#dear John#masters of the air fanfiction#mota fanfic#Bucky Egan#bucky egan fanfiction#john egan smut#smut#callum turner fanfiction
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
A New Kind Of Normal (Part 9)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Swearing
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.2K
Summary: Y/N finally feels ready to take the next step in her relationship with Rafe, but she gets scared off.
Masterlist
Sabrina’s birthday party is the first social outing of Stella’s that Rafe goes to with his girls. He can’t necessarily say he loves being surrounded by other people’s screaming children and talking to boring ass parents, but he knows it is a part of parental duties. Stella is off in the bouncy castle with her friends and Rafe can’t help watching her like a hawk. He saw a video of a bouncy castle lifting off on Instagram and he is not going to let that happen to his little girl. Y/N reassured him that it wasn’t windy enough for that to happen and if it did get bad enough, he could be the first one to get her out of there. At the thought of Y/N, his eyes look for her in the crowd of adults. He finds her picking at the cardboard-tasting cake that is supposed to be sugar-free, dairy-free, eggs-free, flour-free and who knows what else. Rafe understands that children’s allergies can be serious, but people would be lying if they said this stuff doesn’t taste like anything that people would enjoy. Cake is a dessert; it’s supposed to be sugary and sweet.
He can see the disappointment on her face. She was so excited about the cake on the car ride over here, so he made a note to buy her one on the way home. They haven’t been on their date yet because they have both been so busy with Stella and work. Plus, Y/N made him promise to keep going to his sobriety resources so it has been conflicting with their schedule too. He is dying to go on the date with her; he needs to clear his work schedule for next week. Maybe they can go on a date while Stella is at daycare. Hmm, he should take her to that little bakery he found near his apartment that has a red velvet cake she would love.
His focus is on Y/N completely and he doesn’t notice Raquelle's appearance beside him. Like poof. Her raspberry-red hair looks nothing like her son’s dark chocolate. Her long stiletto-shaped nails make Rafe wonder how she could do anything with them on. The point of her nails scratches at the fabric of his shirt on his chest. This draws his attention, causing him to look away from his love. “So… You’re Stella’s dad,” she states, giving him a Cheshire cat smile. He pulls away from her touch, “Yeah, I am. And you are Raquelle, right? Will’s mom.” “That I am. You know, I had Willy pretty young too. And I’m not married or dating anyone,” she flirts, batting her eyes. Rafe thinks she might have something wrong with her eyes. Should he call an ambulance for her? It would be bad for her to die in front of the kids. He knows she is flirting, but for once in his life, he doesn’t know what to do. Normally, he would flirt back, which isn’t what he wants to do with Y/N in his life.
“Okay… I don’t really know what to do with that information,” he posits, looking around for anyone else to talk to because it doesn’t seem Raquelle is getting the message.
Stella’s bounce loses its pep as she watches Will’s mommy talk to her daddy. Ms. Raquelle is giving her daddy a funny smile and she doesn’t like it. Her eyes find her mommy, spotting the way her maternal parent is glancing in Rafe’s direction. Y/N’s eyes lost the shine they had and her smiles turned fake. Stella can only conclude the reason for her mother’s upset is Ms. Raquelle touching Rafe. She scrambles out of the jumping house, sliding down the exit until her feet find solid ground. Her shoes are on the wrong foot but she doesn’t seem to understand it is the cause for her toes being pinched. Sabrina’s mom is handing out juice boxes and she grabs a cranberry one from her even though she hates cranberry.
Rafe will always spot Stella in a crowd; his eyes are now trained to always be looking. So when he sees her running towards him with a juice box, he preemptively kneels to her height. Raquelle pauses her conversation to watch the father-daughter reunion. “Daddy, can you open my juice box, please?” Stella asks, holding up the box to him. He happily takes it and kisses her head, “Of course, little witch.” He puts the straw in for her and gently hands it back to her. “Okay, now, be careful. Don’t squeeze it.” She brings it to her lips taking a sip of the bitter concoction she hates. Her child reflexes kick in and she spews red juice all over Raquelle’s white skirt. “Ew, yucky,” Stella whines in disgust. Raquelle lets out a loud yelp as her hands fly to her skirt. “Stella, we don’t do that when we don’t like something,” he addresses Stella first before turning to Raquelle. “I am so sorry, Ms. Walker. I’m sure some bleach might get that off.” She tries to give him a genuine smile, but when she looks at Stella, it is clear she is annoyed. She heads to the bathroom, so Rafe picks up his daughter. Stella fears she is about to be reprimanded, yet the laugh Rafe lets out changes her mind. “You are one smart cookie, little witch. Thank you for saving Daddy,” he praises, pressing his lips to her cheek. She beams at his words and brings him closer to her with her arms around his neck. “You’re welcome, Daddy. She was making Mommy sad,” she informs her father. Rafe glances at Y/N, “Really? I guess we should go give Mommy some kisses to show her how much we love her.”
Stella wiggles out of grasp, wanting to be the first person to reach her mother for a kiss. Rafe smiles at the scene of Stella running into Y/N’s arms. Y/N kisses her daughter’s cheek and giggles at something she said. Rafe wants moments similar to these forever. He wants to give his two girls the world.
——
Stella sits at the counter at the Diner, watching her mother go through some receipts opposite her. “Mommy, will you ever go on a date with Daddy?” Stella ponders out loud. Her feet swing at a quick pace like she is in a swim meet. Y/N gives the girl a surprised look, “I will eventually.”
“When is it eventually?”
“When I finally get all my work done and you have someone to look after you.”
“You are done with all your work. And Uncle Joshy or Benny could watch me. Auntie Sarah and Wheezie can too. So why don’t you want to go out with Daddy?”
Y/N’s hand reaches out for her daughter, gently squeezing the young girl’s cheeks together. “My baby is so smart. I do want to go out with Daddy. I’m just a little scared,” Y/N confesses. Stella’s head tilts, “Why? Daddy is really nice.”
“He is, Baby. But Daddy could have lots of intelligent and wonderful girls, while Mommy hasn’t been on a date since you were born.”
“You don’t have to be afraid. Daddy loves us both very much. I can see it, Mommy.”
Y/N didn’t know Stella was the president of the Rafe and Y/N fan club, but she finds it adorable. “Okay, maybe I’ll go over to Daddy’s house after work. Do you want Uncle Benny or Josh to watch you?” she asks, pulling her phone out. Stella takes a second to think, “Uncle Joshy. I want to eat dinner tonight.” It cracks Y/N up that Stella understands her uncles’ personalities so well. Even when Y/N was younger, Josh was always more responsible than their older brother. Benedict would babysit and they’d eat candy for dinner while Josh forced them to have some vegetables as dessert. “Okay, Baby. I’ll get Uncle Josh to come over.”
——
She gets out of her car, making sure to lock it before entering the apartment building. The concierge knows her by now and asks her to sign in without an issue. Her nail finds a way between her teeth, nervously turning the smooth surface into a jagged mess. The elevator dings and she steps onto it. Her mind is going over what she is going to say like a mantra. She wants this to be perfect for them because if this is the start of their story, it needs to be a good one. As she steps out of the moving contraption, her eyes fall on someone unexpected at his door.
There is no reason for Raquelle to be at his place unless Y/N misinterpreted what she thought to be a one-sided flirty conversation at Sabrina’s party to actually be a two-sided one. Of course, Y/N waited too long to make any concrete plans with Rafe and he moved on. She missed her chance. Her eyes glass over, running back to the now-closing elevator. The door closes and she lets her tears fall down her face.
The appearance of Raquelle at his front door is one he knew was coming but really didn’t want. Yesterday, he had gotten a text saying she found his watch at the party. He told her she could bring it over today. He has enough money to buy a new one, but this one is sentimental. His dad gave it to him when he graduated high school from his mother. Before she died, she had bought gifts for all her children to be given to them at their graduation. It was his most prized possession after his daughter and Y/N, of course. Not that they were possessions, he just lacked a better way of thinking about it.
“I’m so glad that I found it. This looks important,” she comments, holding it up to him. He takes it out of her hand, “Thank you. It is important. It is a present from my mom before she died.” “That’s really sweet. So… since I’m here, do you want to go out for dinner? On a date,” she questions. She steps closer to him and puts her hand on his chest. He gently removes her hand, “No, I’m sorry. But I’m committed to Y/N. She’s the only one for me.” Raquelle steps back as soon as he says those words. “I didn’t know. I am so sorry I’ve been bothering you so much. I thought you guys weren’t together,” she explains with an apologetic smile.
“It’s okay. And we aren’t dating officially yet. We have a date that still needs to be planned, but I know she is who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“That’s really sweet. I hope you guys find the time for your date. And if you need a babysitter, I know Will would love to have Stella over, even with their breakup. Do you think we could still be friends?”
“I would love to be your friend.”
——
Y/N may have allowed Rafe to see Stella early; however, it doesn’t mean she let him be alone with their daughter yet. He’s regained most of her trust; it’s just this part that she is holding back on. He understands why she fears something like that could happen again and he respects her decision. He still comes every day after work to the diner to spend time with the two girls and make sure they get home alright. He walks into the diner to find Stella gone. He totally forgot she was staying at Wheezie’s tonight. It doesn’t mean he can’t hang out with Y/N though. They can finally talk about when they could go on a date. “Hey, Buttercup. I think we should talk about our date,” he tells her, sitting on the stool. Y/N freezes at his words, “Actually, Rafe. I wanted to talk to you about it too.” Rafe knows what her tone of voice means. Bad news for him, especially since she used his name in a none sexual setting.
“I’m not going to like this news am I?”
“Rafe, I’ve been thinking and I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I really shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. I mean we’ve been too busy to go on our date so far and I don’t see that changing any time soon. You should be focusing on your sobriety.”
“Yeah, but I could do both. I know I can.”
“What if you can’t though? You might be putting too much on your plate and it might cause another relapse. The last thing I want to do is put more pressure on our relationship and you.”
“Right, right. No, I understand. You are right. We make a great co-parenting team and it would be strange to change that. I just remembered I have to finish some work, so I’m going to go.”
Rafe tries to hide his upset, so he hides his face from her and heads directly toward the door. Why does this keep happening to him? He is always so close to getting everything he dreams of until something pulls it away from him.
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator @justdamnpeachy @theoraekenslover
#a new kind of normal#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x y/n#outer banks#rafe cameron series#rafe cameron x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#outer banks rafe#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#outerbanks#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction#obx fanfic#obx imagine
76 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello, my lil smut for ch 10 enthusiasts!
i know most of you are here for porn without plot, with little to no care about the plot, but let me get something very straight to you: ellie has mentioned before that kickoff is a slow-burn, it’s in tags too (cue: go check them out).
you might be wondering what a slow burn is (i fully believe you have slow comprehension skills, it’s fine, i myself am dyslexic), but for your ease here’s a number of definitions of slow burn from google:
A slow burn is when the romantic attraction between characters builds slowly over the course of a novel or series.
— bookriot.com
If something is a slow burn, or if it happens on a slow burn, it develops slowly.
— collinsdictionary.com
The slow-burn genre in movies is typically characterized by deliberate pacing, restrained storytelling, and a gradual buildup of tension and suspense.
— collider.com
Slow burn love is a love that goes beyond the initial spark of attraction — it is, as the name suggests, a kind of love that requires time and attention, but that can also last.
— slice.ca
next time, i would suggest you all should use google to search for terms you do not understand the meaning of, or better yet when you do understand something (which i am sure you do), you must always consider it and the feelings of the writer before you send insensitive asks to them.
moving on, you all are in fact very horny and need to get laid instead of asking ellie or anyone to write you smut. ellie had specified multiple time that kickoff chapter 10 will not have any amount of smut in it. if you want to read smut jjk fandom is very horny there are at least 2000 smuts of gojo satoru on tumblr and ao3 alone, you should read those. very easy to find them.
anyways, here are the reasons why smut in chapter 10 of kickoff is bad idea:
reader is an introvert, she’s not weak, not insecure, she is an introvert. i am not saying introverts don’t hook up because they do so. but reader is not the kind to hook up the first chance she gets.
reader and gojo are not just two people who are lusting after one another, their feelings are both emotionally and sexually very strong for each other and they respect one another a little too much to jump in to fucking each other and ruining their relationship before it even begins. why will it be ruined? because they both have not bonded as much as you all would like to pretend they have.
it is one thing to have sex with a stranger or a friend you find attractive and not let it interfere with your relationship with a person than doing the same with someone you are interested in. when you like someone, there are emotions involved. there is a lot more that satoru and reader need to sort out before they should consider sex.
they want a long lasting relationship with each other, rushing into sex will hinder that, because when you rush into things you do not let them develop with the ease and smoothness that they would have had had unnecessary stress not influenced the they. for a relationship to be successful, the foundation needs to be strong. you do not build a foundation by fucking each other’s brains out but rather by doing other mature stuff like bonding through conversations and emotional and significant gestures.
remember when reader walked out of that washroom leaving satoru with blue balls? remember when satoru refused to touch her when reader when asked him to? yes, you are invalidating their entire personalities by asking them to fuck each other already.
they each have a personality, and neither falls in the bracket of fucking the person they want to spend their lives with without letting the relationship marinate enough to last.
they began fresh in chapter 9, where reader made it very clear that satoru needs to reassure her of his feelings. you are not reading the same fic that most readers are if you think they have been together for a long time now, because trust me the last 4 chapters have been anything but smooth sailing between them. if that is your definition of “been together for a long time”, maybe reconsider the relationships you have in your present lives because it requires revaluation.
when they established starting afresh, it meant they will rebuild their bond, which means that they will need to go back to square one and start to focus on one another in order to strengthen their bond and state their feelings in a more tangible manner.
when ellie wrote this fic, she created an outline of the plot, the events that would take place and their sequence; you expressing your disappointment will do nothing but demotivate her and it will definitely not make her write that smut for you.
this is ellie’s fic, and the plot in her fic does not allow her to write smut in chapter 10. done.
a bonus:
if you’re asking reader to make gojo jealous maybe consider the fact that they have indeed established semi-exclusivity, and in order to build the foundation of a relationship you need to act petty like pulling cheap stunts to make the other person jealous.
i need you to realise that kickoff is a rather realistic, non-toxic piece of fiction where two people who are into each other are not going to fuck before reassuring the other of their feelings.
wait patiently, and the good will come to you. if you can’t do so and would prefer to send ellie hate, send in passive aggressive messages to make her characters have sex, or give her backhanded compliments disguising your demand for the couple to fuck, you should:
use your creativity, your knowledge of english and write a smutty fic.
go ahead and read one of thousands of other gojo smut.
stay quiet and keep your opinion to yourself, kickoff is free for you. ellie is not your provider, she is sharing the fic with you. if you want her to do something that desperately, negotiate a commission.
anyways, kickoff has healed me.
some of you loudmouthed ones may not care about plot, just the smut, but most of us are here for the plot. we like the plot, we like knowing what’s going on in the lives of the characters. we enjoy their lives, we grieve their loses. let the experience be fun for us and ellie, and leave if you cannot behave in a civil manner.
the only things that’s acceptable of you readers are constructive criticism and love. if you don’t have either of it to give, kindly quieten yourself and close the tab. leaving the fic would be easier than being frustrated over it.
apologies for the mistakes, the ask was written and sent in absolute rage over a small fraction of you very insensitive people.
💌🫶🏼
flowie, i could cry. seriously idk how you manage to know my own story more than i do LOOOL but i swear every time that you reflect so deeply on kickoff, it has me in awe and in tears because i just feel so seen by you. and thank you SO much for standing up n making these points, because they are points that i've really wanted to make but was just too scared to, and i feel so safe to see that you've written this out for me in my defense 😭😭😭
those definitions of slow burn had me tearing up so bad idk why sdfkjdshfklj i think because they take slow burn as more than just "oh two characters wait long time to fuck" and make it into something more, and honestly even i needed to have that put into perspective for me! thank you so much :'')
your understanding for my characters 😭😭 i just i canttskfksjdf. i totally agree 100% w all your points, and they completely align w the creative direction i want to take w my story. i KNOW that sex can be spontaneous, and doesn't always need to be goody goody and within the confines of a relationship. i have enjoyed so many stories where sex is wild n toxic n crazy, because i just think it fits the VIBE of that specific story.
but i've tried to show time n time again w kickoff characters specifically that they aren't as inclined to act on their libidos, at least not when they truly care about someone else AND when they're trying to look out for themselves (like the examples you brought up, w reader putting her foot down during the bathroom sex scene. or when gojo refused to touch reader in the hotel room bc he knew that she would regret it in the morning)
i knowww that readers have different perspectives on these scenes, and i LOVE that. there's absolutely no right or wrong way to interpret a scene, because stories are inherently subjective and are meant to be enjoyed that way. i have interpreted scenes in my own favorite stories very differently from maybe what the author had in mind, or what other readers had in mind. but what i find really upsetting about people expecting me to include smut prematurely is that it makes me feel like you're not really reading my story for what is is, and rather you want me to make it into something that YOU want, disregarding all of my other attempts to really try n show my readers who these characters are. if reader was spontaneous or if gojo was careless, and these traits were shown in the story, then maybe i could understand certain expectations, but i've tried to put thought into showing their personalities, and for certain readers to entirely gloss over it and move straight to "SEXSEXSEX" is really disheartening, n yes demotivating for me as well.
there's a difference between "oh my god it would've been so hot if they fucked in that bathroom, but i guess it makes sense why they didn't...can't wait for them to slut each other out eventually tho!!" and sending me a direct ask that just says "i am so disappointed you're not gonna make them fuck in the next chapter, even though you've spent the past two months working on it and it's 80 pgs long and you haven't even released it yet but i'm still going to be passive aggressive n find fault w it because! me want sex!! me want sex!!"
i think deeply about my stories because they are personal to me. it's like journaling essentially LOL. i've mentioned before that kickoff is an ode to a painful situationship i had my first year of college, and i've also mentioned that reader is based off of a very close friend of mine who i love very dearly n i feel so bad that she doesn't believe in herself at times, and i wanted to show her how much i'm rooting for her through my story. i figured, well if i'm going to write a story, might as well share it w others and i'm a horny bitch so of fucking course there's gonna be smut.
like it's a win win situation for everyone i think?? i get to write what i want, i get to share what i want, n i get to entertain my lovely lil readers, n we all get to interact w eachother n make cute lil headcanons n talk about our days, n then we move on w our lives until next time?? why can't it just be like this, lol. i think if some people just really toned down their entitlement, then the writing community as a whole would thrive.
ANWYASY sorry flowie i didn't really direclty respond to your words, kinda went on a rant here, but tbh i think you said everything i wanted to say :'') so thanks bb <33 LOVE YOU SO MUCH
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Saga of Solitude 5/?
Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. Hangster AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version).
PROLOGUE (He remembers)
HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)
Updating ~weekly (longer chapters).
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003)
CHAPTER FIVE – 2004
He spends three weeks in a submarine and it helps cement his decision to attend flight school, if they accept his application. There is of course the natural competition between everyone, it’s simply how they function, each striving to be better, make those around them better, but also support them and drag them through it if they have to. His third year at USNA wraps up and he’s facing his summer break. The entire year has gone well, no terrorist attacks, although there is definite heightened security since.
The routine is easy now, he’s an upperclassman, has Natasha and then a smaller circle of people he considers friends, if nothing close to what he has with Natasha. He’s aware that a significant chunk of upperclassmen think that he and Natasha are together, and the one time he checks in with her about whether she’s okay with that she’d just shrugged and said it had stopped the guys expecting her to pay any of them attention. No one asks, and they never correct anyone. When they head out to have leave together no one bats an eye. When they mention having spent some of the previous summer together it’s the same.
He finds out why Natasha doesn’t talk to her family. Teenage pregnancy. She’d refused to get married to the guy, someone she won’t even tall Bradley the name of, and the shame of either the pregnancy, or their daughter not obeying them, they’d kicked her out. Her application with USNA had already been accepted, her place guaranteed and Bradley doesn’t need to ask to realize what her decision must have been. He briefly feels awful about introducing Tamsin and Petra to her, but she seems to take great joy in chatting to them on the phone and drawing and sending them pictures, so he lets that guilt melt away.
They’ve both been asked to return to USNA and assist as upperclassmen for Plebe Summer, something he feels immense pride in, glad to have made a good enough impression that he’s being held up as a role model to the new recruits. Of course it makes their leave almost non-existent and they decide to spend it together, which he knows will only fuel rumors that they’re a couple. They go to San Francisco for five days at the start of their leave, and he finally gets to meet Natasha’s sole family member that has anything to do with her, and the way his eyes travel up Bradley’s body leave him blushing furiously. That he’s hot doesn’t help at all.
“Oh, it is nice to meet you,” Christopher says, shaking his hand and Bradley looks to Natasha with a raised eyebrow and she’s just shaking her head.
“Nice to meet you too. Bradley.”
“Mmm. I have heard a lot about you. She didn’t ever mention just how delightful you looked.”
“Because to me, he isn’t very delightful to look at. There are nicer views.”
“Hey!” Bradley objects, out of principle more than anything, and Natasha is already cackling and pushing past Christopher with her bags but Christopher is looking at him seriously, completely different to the over-the-top flirtation of a moment ago.
“Oh my god. You’re…” Christopher makes a limp-wrist gesture which sends Bradley’s eyebrows up in surprise.
“Uh. Don’t ask don’t tell…” he says, throat tight, wondering where the fuck Natasha has gone.
“Oh honey, I am not part of your weird cultish military shit. And I wasn’t asking, I was confirming. Holy shit. No wonder Tadpole likes you so much.”
“Tadpole?”
“Shut up!” Natasha calls out and Bradley grins.
“I’ll tell you the story later,” Christopher says, voice low and conspiratory and Bradley nods, hitching his bag over his shoulder. Christopher jerks his head toward where Natasha can be heard grumbling. “Sorry, only got the one guest room. She’s already claimed the bed probably, so you’re on an air mattress.”
“That’s fine, not the worst place I’ve slept by far.”
“You’re my guest, I’d like to hope not. I’ll let you guys get settled then we can head out and find some food.”
He leaves Bradley at the door and Natasha is smirking at him.
“You couldn’t have told me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
“Sorry, his sexuality isn’t exactly something I drop into casual conversation. We’re at USNA remember. Repression is being ingrained into us.”
“Okay, would you hate me if I asked him out?”
“No. But his boyfriend might.”
“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”
“They can take you clubbing. I’m sure you’ll find ways of enjoying yourself here.”
She’s right, and she’s smug about it. During the days they do touristy things and just spend time relaxing, occasionally working out. In the evenings Christopher and his boyfriend Patrick take them dancing or clubbing. Natasha comes along once, but then tells them she doesn’t want to sit around getting hit on by anyone so instead either goes to the movies or stays at Christopher’s apartment.
He’s spent previous weeks on leave in New York, having sex with strangers, but this is a completely different experience. One he’s not going to forget in a hurry. For a start he has never had so much sex in such a short period of time, and it’s good sex, the guys that Christopher sends his way clearly more experienced and keen to give him good experiences or teach him how to give better blow jobs. It’s like each of the guys has undergone a screening process, and when one slips that he’s an ex of Patrick’s he realizes that maybe they have been. He can’t bring himself to care, not when he’ benefitting and enjoying it all.
… … …
They get to Ice’s house and there’s a welcome home party and he can’t believe how big Tamsin and Petra have grown. It’s a vastly different experience to their brief time in San Fransisco but he’s glad they have two weeks and Natasha seems to take her role as surrogate big sister seriously, the four of them watching movies, or lying around with slices of cucumber over their eyes. Sarah snaps a picture of them like that, gets it printed and gives copies to both him and Natasha, along with a pile of other photos she’s taken while they’ve been staying.
Of course, his birthday comes and he’s twenty-one. Maverick hands over an envelope and a key and he looks at it blankly.
“What’s this?”
“The deed to the house. It’s to go to you on your twenty-first birthday.”
“But… what am I going to do with a house?”
“Live in it?”
“But… I’ll be deployed or away…”
“Bradley, it’s the house your parents bought. What you do with it is up to you. I’d like to still live there of course…”
“Of course! I mean, if you’re not moving in with Ice, then of course you can stay there. It’s just… nothing has to change right? It’s just a piece of paper?”
“It’s just a piece of paper. And we’ll help navigate any legal stuff. And we won’t be moving in together any time soon,” Ice states, voice soft, but his expression is sad and Bradley wishes things were different.
… … …
Tom wants to wrap himself around Maverick and never let him go. The amount he’s been away on deployment makes every moment they have together even more precious, and he’s starting to second guess his own rules, even if they’ve kept them both safe. He has two kids and an ex-wife which is a damned good cover, even if his best friend comes and stays frequently. He isn’t telling anyone that doesn’t already know, and no one is asking him, even if they have their suspicions.
He hates the fact that Pete is now effectively homeless, not that Bradley would ever kick him out of the house, but Tom wants him to have somewhere that is his, and maybe not his alone, but something that would just light Pete up from the inside. The way flying does. He pauses mid-thought and thinks back to a couple of years ago, the Beechcraft and the airstrip, Mav taking Bradley up in the air. Huh. Not a plane, not yet, but there were hangars out there. And a hangar beside an airstrip is probably somewhere Pete would consider living if he thought it was a legitimate option. Not that he himself would want to live beside an airstrip, but this isn’t about him.
He makes a few calls. Then a few more calls. He’s got to consider leases, and taxes and whether it might just make more sense to rent. He doesn’t want to rent though, wants to make some sort of large gesture and present it as a fait accompli that gives Maverick no wiggle-room to turn it down. He feels pretty confident it wouldn’t be turned away regardless, unless Mav was feeling particularly difficult on the day. Then he gets a call, someone had heard he was looking, and it’s an old Navy hangar, located at the very same airstrip and it feels serendipitous and he agrees to come out and have a look.
… … …
Of course, with how much mentoring he’s doing with the Plebes come the questions, and he remembers his conversation with Ice, a couple of years ago now. When they ask him questions about his parents he simply pulls a face and shakes his head, ignores his own peers, fellow Firsts, who he can see from the corner of his eye who were shaking their heads at the Plebes, trying to stop them from simply asking.
“My dad was a naval aviator who died in a Top Gun training incident in eighty-six and my mom died of cancer in ninety-four. I was raised by my step-father after that. Any other awkward questions you want answers to?”
It’s probably why they never ask him or Natasha anything, and another First slaps the Plebe on the back, mutters I tried to warn you off asking but he doesn’t feel upset about it at all. It’s not at all a lie, even if his step-father would be here in a heartbeat if Bradley needed him to be. He knows that both Ice and Mav intend to attend his graduation in formal roles, and while they might night get to acknowledge their roles with each other in such a formal setting he doesn’t care. They want to be there and they’re planning to be there, special leave already requested and granted long ago, considering they’ll be in uniform.
He and Natasha both work hard, both at their studies and also on their physical fitness. Their applications for flight school were submitted months ago, he really wants to go with her, can’t imagine not going without her. They’re both consistently in the top two or five percent, which he knows bodes well for them. Knows that their involvement with extra curriculars and being friendly with pretty much everyone has them well liked and respected. He just has to be patient and wait.
… … …
They both look at the envelopes, slapping them on empty palms. They look identical, but unlike his USNA acceptance letter, this is a single piece of paper and it could be flight school acceptance, or a decline.
“On the count of three?” Natasha asks and Bradley admires her courage.
“Yeah. Three.”
They rip them open.
… … …
“I knew it!” Maverick screams, his joy palpable through the phone for their Saturday afternoon call. “Ice! Ice! He got in! Hold on, let me put you on speaker…”
“Of course he did… well done Bradley. Congratulations.”
He blows out a long breath, because he’s glad they have seemingly unshakeable confidence in his abilities. God, he never wants to disappoint them.
“Thanks. Natasha got in as well.”
“She’s a very capable young woman. Proud of you both. Please pass that on to her.”
“Yeah, thanks. I will.”
“Yeah, we’re both very proud. You can go back to work now. I’m going to go outside and talk to my godson…”
He hears Ice mutter something in the background, not clear enough to make out, but then Mav is telling him off for rolling his eyes and he can just imagine what he said, the gentle laughter between them and he can’t help but smile.
“So. did Ice tell you he bought me a hangar?”
“He did what?” Bradley asks, because such a move seems like something Mav would make, rather than Ice.
“He bought me a hangar. Said that I was obviously always welcome wherever he was, but that he knew I needed my own place and that I now had a space for the plane I’ve been eyeing up.”
“You’ve been eying up a plane? Wait. A hangar. For you to live in? What about the house? You aren’t moving out are you?”
“No. Of course not. But I’m going to be there as often as you are, probably less considering Ice has become a lot more, uh, relaxed about his stupid sleepover rules. The hangar isn’t currently habitable anyway. But there’s this P-51 Mustang I’ve been looking at. It’s beautiful.”
“He proposed to you with an aircraft hangar. Oh my god, that’s so… romantic and practical of him.”
“He didn’t propose.”
“Mav. If a guy bought me an aircraft hangar what would you think about the guy?”
“That he was crazy in love with you, and utterly committed… oh shit. I’ll call you back.”
He is not surprised when he doesn’t get called back.
… … …
He hadn’t expected it.
They hadn’t warned him.
The emotions of the day, coupled with the fact that they’d asked every single member of the 1986 Top Gun class there, along with a few other friends of both his parents. He clearly has the biggest cheering section and he feels like a mess inside, although outwardly he’s all smiles and calm togetherness. Four years of training helps with that at least. Ice and Mav are both up on the stage, part of the VIP section, along with several others who are still serving, and he recognizes them from his birthday a couple of years ago.
“Did you know they were all going to be here?” Natasha asks, and he shakes his head, throat working against the tightness of his collar.
There are photos, Ice agreeing to so many photos with newly minted graduates and Bradley lets them all go, fights his way through the crowds to find Mav. He and Ice can stage photos later, there will always be times when they’re in uniform. Just the fact that they’re here is more than enough and he’s so happy that he has had them supporting him every step of the way.
“Captain Mitchell.”
“Midshipman Bradshaw. Congratulations. Your father would be very proud. I flew with him you know?”
Bradley blinks.
Blinks again.
Hopes his internal dialogue somehow is being telepathically beamed into Mav’s head.
You are such a dick. Hopefully his expression does enough to convey his exasperation.
“Really? I didn’t know that sir.”
Mav gives him a shit-eating grin and Bradley wishes Ice were there to hit him around the head. Not that he would, not in this setting, but damn he sees why he’s always so tempted.
“I’m going to have a photo with all the graduates who are going to be heading off to Corpus Christi for flight school. I think they want us over there.”
It’s chaos. Positive and energetic happiness with everyone feeling the sense that they’re about to begin their careers, that they’ve made it through what is meant to be the hardest part, even if Bradley secretly thinks flight school might be even more challenging, it’s only for eighteen months. He manages to get photos with Maverick, Natasha and Ice and nearly every available combination. Then there are photos with the 1986 class, and he ignores the fact that several of the other men seem to shed a tear.
Then it’s dispersing, the crowd thinning and families are gathering, taking more photos and he can see Sarah pushing through, the hands of Tamsin and Petra clasped and he grins, starts heading toward them, already thinking that Tamsin has grown a couple of inches, can see both his sisters pulling Sarah toward them before she decides to let them go.
“Natasha! Natasha!” Petra screams, and she’s running across the quad, hair streaming behind her with gold and navy ribbons mixed in, running past him and Natasha is grinning broadly, bending down to swoop Petra up in a hug. Bradley stands back up from where he’d been just about to scoop her up himself before she’d breezed past him.
“Wow,” he says to Sarah as she comes to a stop to stand beside him.
“Hurts doesn’t it?” Sarah says, not really asking and Bradley nods, murmuring a quiet yeah under his breath. He doesn’t begrudge Natasha the joy and love of his sisters, love isn’t in finite supply, it’s just a little hurtful to not even warrant a hello. He has to remind himself that Petra is only seven.
“I love you Bradley,” Tamsin says, arms coming around his waist to give him a hug, as if she can tell how he’s feeling and he hugs her back.
“Love you too Tam.”
“You’re dressed up all fancy like Daddy and Papa.”
“Yeah. You look pretty fancy in your dress too. Is that new?”
“Yep. Mom bought is especially for today!”
“We can look fancy together.”
“Congratulations Bradley, we’re all very proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you proud of me? I go to school too,” Tamsin says, and Sarah looks heavenward and Bradley wonders if she’s been fielding questions like this for a while.
“I’m proud of you, going to school can be really hard work somedays,” Bradley says.
“Daddy!” Tamsin says, and then Ice is there, pressing his cheek against Sarah’s in greeting and nodding at Bradley again.
“Bradley! Up!” Petra demands, appearing at his side and Natasha is grinning.
“Hello to you too Miss Petra, happy to be of service.”
There are a few people doing a double take as they see who he is standing with, who he is clearly family with, but he cares less now. He’s finished here, no one can claim he played any favoritism card. He knows flight school will be different, wants to be in the air as soon as possible.
He can’t wait.
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
Someone not sexualizing and objectifying people while describing them is being asexual now? Some of y'all don't go out and it shows unfortunately
Hiiiiiii!! Soooo your super uneducated but that’s okay! You’ve come to the right place because you see… I AM ASEXUAL so like let me explain it to you ^__^
First off, the basics, what does asexual mean? -—Well asexual means ‘someone who lacks sexual attraction towards all genders or persons’ and that’s it! It doesn’t tell you anything about wether or not someone likes sex. It simply means they have never felt sexual attraction!
And if your thinking, “welll no one feels sexual attraction from looking at someone- it doesn’t actually work that way” wellllll I’ve got good news! You are probably asexual mate! Congratulations 🎈🎊🍾
Now let’s talk about Neil Josten!
The great thing about these books are that they are from Neil’s point of view which means we don’t have to guess what he was thinking! We know it! So the best proof that Neil is asexual is the fact that he never is sexually attracted to someone! Sexual attraction is not something you can hide in your own thoughts- this is proven by jeans point of view- he knows he’s not supposed to be attracted to men but that doesn’t stop him- no matter how hard he shoves it down we see it. He feels it. This is not “sexualizing or objectifying” anyone this is a very normal human reaction. ( And if it’s one you don’t relate to at all then again mate, you really might be asexual, which is great! Cuz guess what? Asexuality is ALSO a normal human reaction! Yippie!)
There is also the argument that Neil’s mom “beat him for being attracted to people so he’s not anymore” this is flawed simply because we know that DOESNT work, if beating the gay (or over all attraction) out off someone worked then Nicky wouldn’t be gay, Andrew wouldn’t be gay, Jean wouldn’t be bi- you see? It doesn’t work and never will. Believe me homophobes have been trying for decades, and I would hope you don’t join them-
Now with all this information, I would also like the say that the wonderful author Nora has said that she is asexual and Neil definitely was written with her experiences with attraction! (I believe she specifically stated she is Demi- which falls under the asexual umbrella! Please do more research if you would like to learn more about asexuality and it’s many forms!)
Thank you !
#hope this helps!!!#🤗😇#I’m saying all the “you might be ace stuff#cuxxx ummmmmm the first time I heard about asexuality in high school#I thought it was fake cuz I related to much to it …#I thought that was just genuinely how everyone felt#…#it’s not#so I get discovering asexuality is a journey#andrew minyard#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#the foxhole court#andreil#tfc#asexual#queer#pride#ace pride
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy pride month here’s Reigen doodle to celebrate
#okay I know that it’s 20 days late#but pride never stops baby#This started as vent art idek why#hope you guys are doing okay#if anyone was wondering I don’t think I am#I’m getting sick it feels grodie#anyway love u all xoxo#reigen arataka#mob psycho fanart#my art#versacebong art#digital art#artist on tumblr#character art#doodles#mob psycho 100#mp100 fanart#mp100 reigen#Reigen poopataka#hehe#mp100#weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
at the risk of sounding like really entitled….
does anyone else have a fic that is their most popular, but you don’t want it to be, because you don’t think it deserves it, and you have better stuff, and while ofc you are grateful that people like something you wrote, it’s almost annoying that for some reason That one is the most popular. lmao
#for me it’s this like time travel shenanigans ml fic called Why Are You Like This#which I had a ton of fun writing and I like the fic#but I also tend to forget about it lol#and then I see that it’s my most popular one and I’m like ‘not but this isn’t even in my top 5 favorite fics I’ve written. why’ hdjsjs#it’s probably closer to the bottom of the top 10? and I do not have that many fics hahaha#I remember rooting so hard for tell me something I don’t know to surpass it in kudos#which it eventually DID and I was so happy#but then later WAYLS passed up tms again lol#and I was slightly annoyed to realize that WAYLS was my first to break 5k kudos#while tms still hasn’t#it’s very close tho I need like. 2 more#ok ok sorry this definitely sounds super entitled DHDKDK#I promise I am VERY grateful for every fic interaction!! every kudos or comment I’ve ever received!!#thank you thank you to anyone who has ever read my stuff💜#I just think this is kind of funny#cause I keep scratching my head wondering why that one is the top fic#I think ppl just rly enjoy time travel stuff?#also I did it as a gift for yunyin based on one of her comics so that probably boosted it haha#anyway
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
lesbians dont marry or fuck men thats like the whole point of lesbianism lmao
yes yes i agree i don’t think i said otherwise
#i was just thinking like i’m general if i spent the rest of my life with a man i’d feel unfulfilled whereas if i ended up marrying a woman#i don’t think i’d have that feeling of ‘something’s missing’#i was wondering if other bisexual ppl felt that way and wanted to know how lesbians came to the conclusion of being a lesbian#the asks i’ve been getting kinda make it seem like if you’re not a gold star lesbian then you’re not a Real Lesbian#which like i understand if someone’s dating men and women like you’re obviously not a lesbian#but for me i still call myself bi i was just wondering if i don’t want to be with men or date men and im sure i only want to be with women#and ever since i realized that I haven’t been with men… and don’t want to be ever again…#like would that still make me bi?#idk i feel like y’all are gonna cancel me for questioning my sexuality 😭 i’m not saying i’m lesbian but like where Am I in the spectrum ???#i’m just trying to figure out if my ‘attraction’ to men is genuine attraction or just like… societal pressure to be with a man#or daddy issues cuz all the men i’ve been with are always like older my last boyfriend was 10 years older than me and Idk#or if my repulsion is actually repulsion bc i don’t Like them or trauma??#im sorry if i offended anyone i’m not trying to invalidate anyone’s sexuality just trying to figure mine out 🥲#inbox
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
“it was me.”
“i have magic. and i use it for you, arthur. only for you.”
“leave me.”
“i want him gone.”
“i thought i knew you… i trusted you.”
“i also do this because you’re my friend and i don’t want to lose you.”
“i don’t want you to change. i want you to always be you.”
“i’m not going to lose you.”
“just hold me. please.”
“thank you.”
“i can’t lose him! he’s my friend!”
#i can’t stop thinking about this finale y’all#fucking INSANE#the way these are all canon lines??????? i am. walking into the ocean.#also i did purposely bold merlin’s lines and italize arthur’s in case anyone was wondering lol#also the ‘i don’t want to lose you’ -> ‘i’m not going to lose you’ -> ‘i can’t lose him’ pipeline makes me incredibly violent#merlin#bbc merlin#merthur#eli.posts
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
series i’m gatekeeping from my family vs series i’m ✨ok✨ with my family knowing i’m into:
#‘why do you gatekeep hw from your irls?’ well. the thing is. i just ✨don’t want to✨#and. like. i’ve already led my family to believe that i bought bl manga when i was buying idol sengen at animate#so i think im already past the point of no return in that regard. so. um. yeah.#thank you village vanguard for the unexpected μ’s content in 2k24 you truly are yappa saikyou#i s w e a r falling back into my ll phase almost 10 whole years after i first got into it is unexpected tbh#compounded with the fact that i can now actually afford whatever im looking for. so. like. my wallet is in crisis lol#i had just reached my savings goal last month but now i’ve overspent bc i saw great deals on resold honoka-chan hoodies and i couldn’t help—#so now i have 2 identical hoodies lol. but i’ll keep one of them safe in its packaging bc im unwell like that ig#my merch whaling is out of control i s w e a r but my oshis are just too cute aaaaaaaaa#i probably should open another savings account instead… maybe that’d keep my spending under control…#b u t for now honoka-chan jersey im looking for you#tfw ur oshi is decently unpopular amongst the fans so hardly anyone resells her merch lmao#so ig the relatively fewer fellow fans she has are more dedicated to her than fans of other more popular characters lol#but at least her stuff (when resold) isn’t as overpriced as the actually popular members (birb and tomato)#so my wallet isn’t crying as hard as it could’ve been? ig? hunting for almost 10 year old merch is a pain fr though#either way. the grip idol series have on my wallet is truly insane#i wonder how many bags of chips i could’ve bought with the amount i’ve spent on hw and ll merch to date…#at least a thousand… i think. maybe even 2 thousand if my past gacha game whaling is taken into consideration…#…this is probably why it’s important to have a decent paying job ig.#oh well. at least i may be making b a n k this month with how much ot i’ve had to do this week so far…#i hope i won’t have to work till 5am again over the next 2 days… that had been a horrible experience.#help what am i even talking about anymore why am i having a life crisis right here and now u m.#anyways. dni if you dislike honoka-chan. thanks for coming to my crisis rant. see you when the last stage mv drops ig ok byeeeee
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Having near anxiety attack levels of dread and anxiety in your childhood home because of shitty things that happened last summer is crazy (I am not thriving)
#I thought I was having an ocd episode#nah. I think my mental health has just hit different lows#drove past my old job and had this wave of anxiety pass over me and I thought it was cause it was a horrible job#went to get in the shower that I’ve only used last summer (broke for many years) and almost had to use my parents shower it was so bad#a whole ass main street I drive down#my bed#until I realized those were all the main places I spent last summer sobbing in constantly trying to hold it together#I have never cried like I did day in and day out to my work friends and crying in the shower praying for a text#in the bed that all of the sudden was too big#down the street that I drove up and down twice a day sobbing to the point where I almost had to pull over because it was the only alone time#I am having some sort of something#the only way I’ve avoided it is staying extremely busy#I’m glad I’m not staying the summer here. I don’t think I could experience this all summer#no wonder why I was dreading this visit more than others. my body was remembering grief I have done my utmost to repress and deal with#soup talks#so if anyone has like. ideas on a solution I’d love one
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Is it even normal to consider suicide at 18 years old?
#just wondering#does anyone else feel like this?#cause I think about it everyday#mental health sucks#But lately I feel less scared and more at peace with the thought#i don’t know what to make of that#tw suicide mention#tw suicidal thoughts#frankly I don’t really want to die. but life is just#not a joke I am literally considering it
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s almost worse knowing they hurt me unintentionally because I don’t have any right to hate them. It was an accident, they didn’t know, but still I have breakdowns at the mention of them and they don’t even know.
#I haven’t talked to them in months#and by god I don’t want to talk to them again#because it hurts So Bad#and I’m not even in the right to hate them bc they didn’t do it on purpose#I’d rather them do it on purpose because then I could hate them#because I’m angry and upset and I had a panic attack last night about it#this person who probably doesn’t even think about me for a second#and they’re constantly in my mind making me feel like crap#that’s not fair#I hope my name is never in their thoughts again and I hope they always wonder why I stopped talking to them#I wanted closure before but it’s too late for that because it’s been long enough that#wtf would I even say?#you hurt me. you abandoned me? but I’m the one that stopped talking#it felt like you abandoned me and I didn’t have the energy to keep up a one sided talk#when I know there were people who would talk to me#I know you’re busy. but at least something would be nice#I’m needy. and clingy. and I KNOW that#but still. it hurts because it’s like everything I always get left behind and they’re the PRIME example of that#I don’t even know why they hurt me so bad#maybe it was because it was someone I trusted completely#someone that I was closest to above all else above everyone else#I trusted them. I loved them. we talked about getting to meet up one day#but I hope that when they come up here I am Long Gone and they never think of me again#I trusted them enough they knew my state. I trusted them with parts of myself I barely trusted anyone else with#and the absence hurt like hell#and there wasn’t even one big event to break it off#just a slow deterioration in anxiety and stress that sometimes bubbled up in a message#but I always kneecapped the conversation because never was a good time to have it#and then just no more messages#I should block them. but I don’t want to ruin all the messages we had
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
