#it’s not even that i get my hopes up or anything anymore

[rinhaler]

perv!Rin always having a pair of your used panties on him when he goes on away games… 🫶🫶🫶

-🌹

this has been in my inbox for months sorry I am slow <3333 love my man love my pervy boyfriend rinnie mmmmmm

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, calls ur pussy she/her, male!masturbation, long distance relationship, perv!rin, panty thief!rin, descriptions of sex and pussy eating.

words: 1.2k

He thinks being apart from you is a challenge. It’s hard, of course, but he makes it a challenge.

There’s an edge to his plays when he’s been without you for so long. He thinks he performs better when he doesn’t even get to hear your voice. When he doesn’t get to hold you, kiss you, feel you, he’s unbeatable.

He’s not a weak man, but he is for you. He’s wrapped around your finger and he knows he’s never felt love like he feels for you. You are his only weakness, but you’re also his strength.

He lies awake at night thinking of you, desperate to call you. His heart races as he thinks about your head resting on his chest whilst playing with your hair, whispering sweet nothings until you fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. You allow him full control over your body when you’re tired, succumbing instantly to the way he gropes and pinches at your supple skin as the pale moonlight bleeds through your windows.

Those moments are the closest thing to heaven, for each of you.

And to be without that for days, weeks, months… it’s plain torture. He wonders if it pains you just as much to be without him, if you miss him nearly as much as he does you. It takes a colossal amount of will power to not pick up the phone and call you.

He can never keep track of time differences when he’s away. Maybe you’re already fast asleep, or maybe you’re out in public with your friends. What good would it do to whine about how desperately he needs you when you can’t give him what he needs?

He’d give just about anything to hear you moan needily down the phone to him. He wants to tell you to touch yourself and lower the phone between your legs so he can hear the way your wetness squelches, drooling profusely as she knows nobody touches her better than he does. Nobody’s fingers are as perfectly thick and able to pummel and rub all of your sensitive places perfectly, so perfect that you unravel in record time.

She knows that it won’t just be once, either, not when he’s mastered the art of making you cream and mess yourself so expertly that he can do it again and again and again.

The sight in his mind of you cumming like that makes him sit upright in his bed, panting heavily as he reaches for his phone. His breath fans across his quickly typing thumbs as he messily writes some frenzied message to you.

He stares down at his writing with a heavy lidded stare, his breathing beginning to slow as he sees what a pitiful string of words he’s combined. Telling you that he misses you and how fucking hard he is. That he hopes you’re at home and you can call because he needs more than anything to get off to the sound of your voice, your mewls, your soaking wet cunt.

But he erases it. All of it. This libertine thinking will make or break him if he allows it to consume him. He doesn’t want to break, he never wants to break.

He turns on the flashlight of his phone as slowly rises from his seat in the middle of his bed, apprehension in his steps as he wanders towards his suitcase. There’s sweat beading at his hairline, a droplet sliding down his temple. It’s on his mind, it’s a targeted endeavour, and still, he’s fighting against it.

This is the compromise.

That’s his train of thought as a glob of saliva bulges down his throat. He drops to the balls of his feet, carefully unzipping a pouch to retrieve an innocuous item he always borrows for these trips away.

He wouldn’t survive if he didn’t.

He wouldn’t win if he didn’t.

Your worn panties are part of a ritual for success. He doesn’t steal the same pair every time. It’s always different. This time, they’re white and lacey. He thinks they might be your favourites, they seem to be the ones you wear the most.

They’re soft, he touches the material carefully. The harsh light of his phone makes it hard to see, really see, the pads of his fingers are his guide. He feels the intricate pattern of the lace detailing as his resolve crumbles faster and faster by the nano second.

And soon, he’s smothering himself with them. He takes an ample inhale, a breath so deep it resounds throughout the room. His breath is shaky as he breathes out the rakish scent of your used panties. His eyes almost fall back into his skull as he feels his cock spurt from your scent alone.

There’s sure the be a stain on his sweats, but he couldn’t possibly care less. He takes them off before walking back to bed, lying comfortably, completely naked, as he looks up at the ceiling.

He continues to breathe in the incomparable fragrance of your worn underwear, his dick getting wetter and wetter as he leaks from his tip like some kind of Pavlovian response. Like it knows the smell of your cunt and what it means. Like it knows it’s about to taste or feel you wrapped around the length until his balls tighten and he floods your insides with his love.

He can barely keep quiet as he tugs and squeezes furiously in a desperate bid to reach his climax. His inhales become sporadic and shorter as he begins to surmount the peak of his reward for having some semblance of restraint. This is restraint. He didn’t text, he didn’t call like he wanted. Like he needed. He settled for his salacious little secret. Your stolen, your borrowed, panties that you made smell so perfect for him.

Just for him.

He wonders, sometimes, if you know of his twisted little habit.

He isn’t sure what he considers more of a turn on. The fact that you’re clueless and he’s been getting away with something so sickeningly perverse for so long. Or that you possibly have known all along, but don’t care. Maybe it turns you on, too, knowing that he needs your help to make it through these long trips. And you help him so effortlessly.

All you need to do is wear panties for him to take, for him to get off like this.

He moans boisterously as the idea of you knowing seems to win the interest of his perversions. He almost suffocates himself with the lace, using it to stifle his raucous undoing. Thick creamy ropes of cum shoot from his cockhead and splash on his tummy. His flexing abs decorated and sparkling, the streetlights illuminating his figure as his toes curl and his breathing begins to stabilise.

He's exhausted, finally. The gnawing unease gone and forgotten as the desire to sleep overrides anything and everything else littering his thoughts. He uses your panties to mop up the sticky cum coating his abs before tossing them aside.

He’ll get them cleaned before he comes home, he always does.

There’s one thought still booming in his mind that is louder than the desire to close his eyes and sleep. He grabs his phone, writing out a shorter, more cohesive message for you to read.

Goodnight princess, I love you x

He can’t hide his smirk when three little dots immediately pop up.

I love you too Rinnie, goodnight x

And with that, he can finally sleep peacefully. But, still, he can’t help but wonder…

Do you know?

© 2024 rinhaler

[starkeygirlposts]

Boyfriend turned Step-Bro Rafe Cameron x Reader

-----

FULL FIC HERE

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

This is a snippet of a fic I'm going to see if I want to continue writing. Please let me know if you'd like it to be continued.

I'm not diving too deep on details or character traits in this, as it's just a blurb/idea for a full fic.

Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy

----

The Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.

The complete opposite, really.

Your parents separated when you were in your sophomore year of high school, your dad moving across the country to California when he met his mistress on a business trip while you and your mom kept a tidy home. The affair nearly killed your mom, and she learned to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.

Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.

But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table that you all had gathered for, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.

That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.

You looked over at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else, and his eyes were higher than yours, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was. You flinched when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision made for you.

You didn't even need to ask.

"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.

You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?

From that day, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. A hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. He'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, breathe cocaine on the other nights, and wave you off when you tried to ask him to slow down.

"Y/N, you want me to stop? To make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.

He'd shrug away from you, his hand brushing you off and leave you watching his back as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But his coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.

So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night nearly one year after your world truly blew apart, hoping you'd get to him before the white powder did, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he'd already gotten his fix. But your small hand came up to his chest as he approached you, seated cross legged on your pink floral bed spread, clutching the stick in your other hand. You looked up at him and when you locked eyes, he understood, because he took your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.

"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."

His breath was hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You couldn't stop the tears from falling from your eyes, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your jaw tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he loved you again.

How badly you missed him, too.

"Rafe, please..."

Your hand falls and his breaks from your jaw, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.

He doesn't do what you expect him to do, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop.

"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.

"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your thoughts?

"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby." You tell him, standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.

You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you

"I'm going to take care of it. They're not keeping me from my kid."

----

AH, what do you think? My ask box is open for feedback. Please feel free to use it to ask for what you'd like to see from this fic!

[mcuamerica]

Stranded | Part Two

Featuring : (future) Azriel x Fem!Reader, Eris x Reader (platonic), Rhys x Sister!Reader

Summary: Amarantha is dead and you finally get to go home. Requested by @sidthedollface2 here.

Warnings: 18+ only, description of ruined wings and skin scarring, canon level violence, not proofread (i'll do it later), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You felt your magic return to you the day Amarantha died. It was such an ordinary day.

You were in your cabin, that Eris had found for you the moment your wings were burned. You couldn't return to the Night Court without putting yourself in danger of Amarantha finding you, so you stayed in Autumn.

You were cooking when it washed over you, feeling as if you could finally breath again. You tested your abilities, seeing how much you could do. You were able to engulf the entire room in darkness when you were satisfied it returned.

You lost hope 10 years prior, when one of the local villagers said that all of Amarantha's court was bound to Under the Mountain. That meant you wouldn't be getting anymore visits from Eris, and even in the 40 years before that, those were few and far between. You were lucky Autumn Court was on her "good" side, because she never looked too deep into the woods. From what Eris told you, Rhys had taken her to bed.

You knew Rhys, and you could guess that he did it to keep her eyes from turning towards the Night Court. Towards you. Or Velaris.

So, you lived your simple life. The cabin Eris gave you came with a horse, that you would take to and from the local village. You were able to maintain a garden. And the best thing about living in Autumn was you never had to brace a bad winter or a sweltering summer. You missed the seasons dearly, you missed Solstices and Starfalls. Most of all, you missed your family.

It still haunted you that Rhys was taking on the burden of the Night Court by himself. You wished you could be there with him.

And, the rest of your family was running Velaris. Without you. You had to wonder if Azriel and Mor ended up together, being trapped in the beautiful, romantic city all these years. You wouldn't if Azriel regretted leaving you that night. Or if he was happy you were gone.

One thing you couldn't get over, even after all these years, was that he left you. Sure, you could handle yourself, but he left you. His best friend. Even when you were young, you always wanted to be around Azriel. Once Cassian and Rhys stopped tormenting him, you were allowed to be around him. He was always the first one to show you techniques with his sword, or new flying maneuvers. But then Mor came alone, slept with Cassian, and that was it. Azriel had been pining after her since then. You weren't resentful of it until he left you the night everything went to shit. When you lost your magic and your ability to fly.

Even know, when the wind was raging in the forest, you teared up. You wish there was some way to be able to fly again. But you grew up in the Illyrian war camp with your mother and brother. You knew what destroyed tendons looked like. There was no hope. Even after Eris and his healers did everything they could to heal them as best as they could. The membrane was in tact, albeit thinner than normal, and you had full function of stretching them in and out. But, the proper strength to fly would never be resorted.

At least you had your magic back. And you waited for Eris to come find you, to placate his father enough that he had time to tell you what happened. You assumed, knowing the depletion of magic was tied to Amarantha, that she died. You really hoped that was the case. You could go home. You could see your brother. You could ignore Azriel for the rest of your life. It never even occurred to you that you could probably winnow back home. You hadn't been able to do it for a long time.

Instead of Eris bursting through the door that afternoon, it was shadows, followed by a heaving Azriel trying to catch his breath.

"(Y/N)!" Azriel exclaimed, bounding over to you. Before you had a chance to step away, he wrapped you in an embrace. One you couldn't help but melt into. You might be mad at him, but after 50 years of being apart, you were happy to see him.

You pulled away, seeing tears in Azriel's eyes as he looked you over. His eyes landed on your wings. "What did they do to you?" He asked, searching your eyes.

"After you left me that night, three of Beron's sentinels burned my wings." You said, taking a deep breath.

"I need to write a note, and then you can take me home. Is Rhys there yet?" You asked.

"I don't know, I've spent all day having my shadows look for you. I was hoping you made it to Winter... I didn't think you would still be here." He said, pausing as you started to write.

You wrote to Eris, letting him know that you would be going back to the Night Court. You also told him that you would support him if he ever needed anything. You tucked the note into an envelop and left it on the counter.

"Okay... can you winnow us?" You asked, holding out your hand.

He gazed over you again, unsaid words clear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). For everything. For leaving you. For not coming to get you-"

"Azriel.. please.. take me home. And then we can talk about it." You said.

He nodded, staring at you for a few moments before he took you hand and darkness enveloped you both.

Rhys was pissed.

He may have been happy to see his family, and to tell Mor and you about how he found his mate (even if she was with Tamlin), but the instant he saw your wings, he knew something was wrong. Before even asking the rest of his family what happened, he pulled you into a room alone.

After recapping what happened Under the Mountain, and more tearful hellos, he asked you to sit down. "Tell me what happened." He said.

You looked down, taking a deep breath. "That night that Amarantha took your magic, and you closed the borders to Velaris, I got stuck in Autumn. Azriel had left to go help Mor with something. I couldn't even winnow to the Night Court borders." You told him what happened with the sentinels, how Eris found you, and then watched as Rhys settled into the quiet deathly rage.

"He did this to you?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

"No," you quickly corrected. "Eris helped me." There were tears in your eyes now. "He- Let me just tell you how it started..."

Eris brought you to a cabin on the outskirts of the Autumn borders, close to a village but far enough that no one would look for you here. He had his best healers come to help heal you, but with their lack ox experience repairing wings, they couldn't completely heal them. You back even still had scarring on it from how hot the sentinels burned through them.

When Eris couldn't stay because Amarantha sent for all High Lords and their heirs, he had a healer stay with you. Until you were back to your normal health. And then, he offered to help you get to the Night Court. Said he would personally take you to the Moonstone Palace. But he warned you how cruel Amarantha already was, and how she was taking more and more people prisoner (to be part of her "court") Under the Mountain. You chose to stay in the cabin. If you couldn't go back to Velaris, you didn't want to go to the Night Court. Not when your brother was actively trying to get Amarantha to avoid it. The return of the Lady of the Night Court would surely set her eyes towards you. And Rhys would pay the price.

Eris would visit you as often as he could. Since Autumn was on Amarantha's good side, she let Eris and his brothers out more. When he was able to step away from the Forest House, he would visit you. Bring you more supplied, new clothes, sometimes even new furniture or paint to refresh the cabin. All the while, he kept you up to date on what was happened. One day, you asked why he was helping you.

"Because I can... and it was my family's sentinels that harmed you. You had no one else around. If you were to die out here, what would I tell you brother? It would have caused an even worse relationship between us. And I'm hoping to have his support when I overthrow my father. If we can tackle Amarantha first... and.. I'm hoping one day you can counsel your brother to help me as well." He explained.

"So you're helping me for your own gain?" You asked.

"I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do... and I've grown fond of this little escape." He answered.

That's how it was until three courts tried to rebel, and Amarantha barred anyone from leaving Under the Mountain. Even Eris. You wondered why he hadn't shown up when you went into the village to grab some more food, when you overheard the rumors.

"He truly helped you? He never hurt you?" Rhys asked.

You shook your head. "No, he never hurt me. He never tried anything. He... was kind. And caring. And I owe him my life." You said, looking up at Rhys.

He nodded, thinking for a moment. He paused his pacing and looking at you dead in the eyes. "Azriel left you?" He asked, seeming to recall what you first told him.

"...Yes." You said after hesitating.

"I'm going to kill him." He growled.

Your heart skipped a beat, knowing Rhys might just well kill Azriel for putting you in harms way.

"Wait- no. Please.. go easy on him." You said.

He paused, taking a deep breath. Darkness was pooling around his ankles. You could tell he was trying to reel it in. "I'm going to beat him to a pulp."

Better than killing him, you thought. You relaxed for a moment before Rhys rushed out from the door. You chased after him to see the first blow to Azriel's face. Then to his gut. Then to his legs to knock him on the floor. All while Rhys growled out in between each punch,"You. Left. My. Sister. In. Autumn?!"

Azriel didn't even fight back.

Part Three

A/N: Another tough one... I think this will have 1 or 2 more parts... which I probably won't get to writing until Sunday or Monday night (I know, i'm sorry!) Thank you all so much for your support!

Tagging: @feiwelinchen @circe143 @sidthedollface2 @crazylokonugget @i-am-infinite @thestartitaness @buttermilktea11 @tele86 @yearninglustfully @bunnyredgirl

Main Masterlist

[not-neverland06]

The End of the Beginning

Cooper Howard x fem!reader A/N: I’m going to use my How About a Nuke? taglist for my Cooper Howard one shots/stories from now on. If you do not want to be on the taglist, please let me know and I will remove you immediately. I’m considering writing some more for these two, let me know what you think in the comments.

Summary: You don’t know how it starts. But you know how it ends. 

There’s not a specific moment where you can pinpoint how this whole sordid affair began. Not a true affair, in your own defense. Nothing physical ever happened between the two of you, but what did happen was somehow almost worse. 

Maybe it was when Bud first introduced you to him or when you began to eat dinners with his family. It could have been the times he would randomly drop by your home for a drink, you’re not sure. It doesn’t even matter, you know that no matter what it never would have ended well for either of you. 

“Mr. Howard, it is a pleasure.” The man in front of Cooper is someone he should recognize, he knows he’s met him before. But his face could blend into any crowd, he’s drawing a blank and failing not to let it show. 

“How’re you,” the question trails off awkwardly and the woman beside the man is clearly trying to hide a smile. 

“Uh, Bud,” he offers up, his smile waning slightly, “Bud Askins. We met a couple of weeks ago.” He’s grasping at straws, eyes desperate for some sense of familiarity within Cooper’s own gaze. He would feel bad for him, but something about this man sets Cooper on edge. 

“Bud,” Cooper offers him the kind of smile he gives every fan and it does the trick like usual. Bud lets out a sigh of relief and shakes Cooper’s hand with a vigor that rattles his teeth. The woman clears her throat, glaring at the back of Bud’s head. 

He finally remembers himself and turns towards her. “Right, my apologies.” Bud moves back and she steps forward, her hand outstretched towards Cooper. She’s got a disarming smile which is a nice change from Bud’s overeager one. 

She seems happy to have met him, but not the starstruck joy he’s used to. It’s refreshing to not have someone be eagerly shouting at him what his favorite movie of theirs is. She offers him her name and he repeats it, liking the way it feels when he says it. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

She doesn’t get offended by the brusque question. She drops his hand and glances back at Bud, “I work for Mr. Askins. I’ll be helping you in adjusting to your new Vault-Tec life.”

He frowns, brows furrowed in confusion at the way she phrases her answer. “Vault-Tec life? I thought this was just meant to be some ads, a few billboards maybe.” He chuckles, hoping to ease the tone of the conversation, but they don’t buy it. She shares a concerned look with Bud and they glance back at Cooper before whispering something to each other. 

Bud listens to her speak, but his gaze stays locked on Cooper. He doesn’t look happy anymore, if anything he looks concerned. Cooper sighs and wonders, not for the first time, what Barb has gotten him into. As if summoning her, his wife pops up behind him. 

She wraps an arm through his and he feels himself easing back into her touch, hoping she can provide some clarity. “I see you’ve met Bud and his assistant.” There’s an odd tone to her words when she addresses the other woman. 

Her gaze snaps from Bud’s and she shoots Barb a sharp glare. “I am not Mr. Askins’ assistant.” Barb clears her throat and she winces, quickly amending her statement, “If anything, I believe I might be your husband’s.”

Cooper wraps his arm around Barb’s shoulder and draws her closer to him. She smiles and looks up at him but he can’t find it in himself to return it. With each new development in this Vault-Tec partnership he finds himself growing more and more hostile towards the company. There’s just something about this whole idea that has him unsettled. 

It’s not that he doesn’t see the need for the vaults, he does. If anyone understands the dangers this war is presenting, it’s him. He’d been on the frontlines, he knows just how bad it’s getting out there. But, the way Vault-Tec is going about everything is unsettling. Capitalizing off the American people’s suffering isn’t something he’s interested in endorsing. 

He’s been questioning more and more everyday if that's exactly what he’s doing. 

“That’s the confusion, honey,” he glances down at Barb but she’s sharing a look with the other woman that he can’t understand. “I don’t see why I need an assistant.”

She sighs and finally looks back at him. She laces her fingers through his and gives him a comforting smile, “Let’s go talk.”

You watched as Barb dragged Cooper away from you and Bud. You knew this wasn’t going to go over well. You’re not sure why anyone at the company even listens to Bud’s asinine idea’s anymore. You give your boss a discerning look but he’s still staring after his crush, the Cooper Howard. 

There must be some cunning snake under the surface of this bumbling baboon. You certainly don’t see it, but someone had to have at Vault-Tec for him to have crawled so high up the ladder. You look over your shoulder at Cooper and, not for the first time, a pang of guilt stabs through your stomach. 

Same as everyone else, you idolized Mr. Howard. It was hard not to. He’d fought for your country in the Sino-American War, defending Alaska. And then he came home and instead of protecting America’s citizens, he made it his job to uplift and entertain them. 

He was an incredible man, and if you weren’t so worried about protecting your own ass you’d feel bad for what Vault-Tec’s mission is going to do to him. 

Barb had brought concerns to you and Bud that Cooper was… slipping. She seemed to think his priorities had shifted and he was growing suspicious of Vault-Tec, and by extension her. 

He was right to be suspicious, there wasn’t a day that you weren’t disgusted with yourself for working for who you do. But you also would like to survive this coming nuclear holocaust, so you learned to live with it. 

She seemed to think that giving him an assistant, one of Bud’s Buds, would help get him back on track. You’re not sure why Bud had chosen you for the job, but he seemed to think you would be charming enough to snag Cooper’s attention. 

You were to bond with Mr. Howard, become his friend and gain his trust. When the time came for him to start questioning you about Vault-Tec and their true intentions, you would say something to calm him. 

Essentially, befriend him and then lie to his face and make him think he wasn’t promoting the end of the world. Barb didn’t want her husband to ever learn about the truth of who was really pulling the strings of the war. 

Cooper was led back to you both by Barb with a smile on his face. He seemed more open to you now, too, offering you a polite nod of his head which you returned. “Barb, here, seems to think I need myself a personal assistant.”

You laughed amicably and shrugged, “You’re a busy man, Mr. Howard. I’m just an extra set of hands.”

He shook his head and waved you off, “Call me Cooper, please, it seems like we’ll be spending a lot of time with each other anyway.”

You smiled, your gut twisting with disgust when you saw the earnest look in his eyes, “Cooper.”

“Good morning,” Cooper leaned over Barb’s shoulder, landing a quick peck on her cheek. She smiled and squeezed his arm before glancing at the clock and frowning. He already knew what she was gonna say. He was going to be late. 

He smiled at her, taking a sip of his coffee. She seemed to notice the look on his face because she just sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to get away with this anymore.”

He laughed and shrugged, “Why not? It’s a part of my signature, I’m always a few minutes late.”

She glanced down at the Pip-Boy on her arm and something seems to have caught her attention. She let out a haggard breath and put Janey’s lunch box on the counter. “Don’t let her leave without this.” She ran to the front door and Cooper frowned as he watched her run around the house, frantically collecting her things. 

“Where are you going?”

She was already halfway out the door when she called out a quick, “Work emergency.” He shook his head and rinsed his mug out in the sink. He’s had work emergencies before, none of them so urgent he would have left without saying goodbye to their daughter. 

He sucks on his teeth, staring over at the front door. What does she do for Vault-Tec? Had she ever really told him?

Had he ever asked?

His thoughts are interrupted by a series of blaring honks outside his front door. He figures Barb had forgotten her keys in her rush to get out of the house. But when he steps onto the front lawn he sees you parked along the curb, staring expectantly at the door. 

You lift your sunglasses up, your lips tilted up into an easy smile and you wave at him. “Morning, Mr. Cooper,” you shout across the driveway. 

He scoffs and walks towards your convertible. You’ve got the roof tilted down, a scarf wrapped around your hair to keep the style. You light up a cigarette while he approaches. He leans into the car and stares at you with a disbelieving look on his face. 

“What are you doing here?”

“We’ve got a packed schedule today, can’t be late.” Barb’s warning suddenly makes sense now. You, apparently, weren’t the type to let him be a little lazy. 

He’d almost forgotten she’d forced an assistant on him. He’s still not happy with it, feeling like he’s being babysat more than anything else. 

She’d made it clear, though, that there wasn’t much room for arguments when it came to you. He doesn’t understand why she was so adamant about this. Most wives would prefer their husbands didn’t spend all day with such pretty assistants. 

“Barb’s just run out, I’ve got to drop Janey off at school today.” You sigh, face screwing up as he speaks. You flick the cigarette onto the pavement and fiddle with the Pip-Boy you’ve got on your passenger seat. He’s surprised not to see it on your wrist, most Vault-Tec people treat it like a fifth limb. 

You screw around with it for a minute before you finally look back up at him. “We can make it, get her out here.” You toss the Pip-Boy in the back and place your hands on the wheel. You give him an expectant look and he realizes you’re not gonna let him argue with you about this. 

“Aren’t I your boss, darling?”

You scoff, tone sardonic, “Sure, Mr. Howard.” He sighs and finally heads back inside. Janey is more than happy to ride along with you. Cooper less so. You seem keen on breaking every damn speeding law to get him to work on time. He’s not sure he trusts his life in your reckless hands. 

You peel into Janey’s school, practically kick her out of the car, and then you’re off again. “You can slow down, you know.”

You glance over at him, a sly smirk on your lips. “I’m not making you sick, am I?” 

He eases up his grip on the door handle and shakes his head. “I’ve worn a power suit, sweetheart, not much can make me carsick.”

You shrug, “Good, then I think I’ll keep going like this.” He shakes his head, slightly miffed by the insubordination, slightly impressed. It’s nice to have someone who treats him like he’s just another regular Joe. 

Most of his former assistants kissed the ground he walked on and were terrified to say one word against him. It gets tiring after a while, that sort of behavior. He’s seen plenty of his costars let it get to their heads and turn into someone egotistical and vile to be around. He doesn’t want to turn out like that. 

He’s never wanted the fame to twist him into something he isn’t. He has a feeling you don’t let many people walk over you. You also don’t seem to have a problem with being assertive. It’s odd, these behaviors in someone in a position of subordinance. 

Makes him wonder if being an assistant is your actual job, or if Bud had demoted you for some other odd reason. 

“I really don’t want to intrude.”

Cooper waves you off and shakes his head, “Not at all. I’m inviting you, honey.” You sigh and grit your teeth. You know what you’re supposed to say. You’re supposed to thank him and accept the invitation to dinner. 

But being with him everyday for the past few weeks has made it nearly impossible to keep this up. He’s an incredible man, kind and honest to a fault. He’s got such strong principles, to be openly manipulating those against him makes you sick to your stomach. 

You thought you would be able to do this. So many times in your life you’d heard never to meet your heroes. You figured Cooper would be like every other pretentious asshole in Hollywood and you would have no problem lying to his face. 

But he is so much more than that. He’s so much better than the people you work with and for, so much better than you. 

Still, a job is a job. You don’t do this and you’ll be kicked out of Bud’s program and left out with the rest of civilization to burn up when the fallout begins. 

You reason with yourself that by doing this you’re also ensuring Cooper’s safety. As long as he believes in Vaut-Tec, in you, he’ll have a place at the end of the world. 

It doesn’t make you feel any better. 

“Thank you, I’d love to join you.”

He grins at you and walks off to wrap up his last scene of the day. You let out a long breath, slumping against the concession table and rubbing at your forehead. You’re losing sleep over all of this. Your nails are brittle, hair splitting, and health declining with the amount of anxiety and guilt you’ve been carrying around. 

Despite your resolve mentally, you’re really not sure how much longer you can go on like this physically. You’ve always been a horrible liar, especially when you’re lying to people you care about. You should have gotten an Oscar for getting this far with him. 

The drive to Cooper’s home that night is silent. To punish yourself, you don’t turn on the radio and force yourself to wallow in self hatred the whole way there. You berate yourself and come up with about five different reasons to get yourself out of being his assistant. 

But when you knock on the door and see his smiling face you can’t force a word out. He’s so handsome, cleaned up and his hair slicked back. You could get lost in his eyes when he speaks to you. You force yourself to keep your mouth shut and just eat dinner with him. 

Barb keeps sending you appreciative smiles all throughout dinner and you want to stab your fork through her hand. You might be a horrible person for lying to him, but she has to be the worst damn wife you’ve ever met. She claims to be in love with Cooper, to care about him, but the way she manipulates him goes against that. 

You don’t get to claim to love someone and then treat them like that. She won’t even let him take Roosevelt! You know for a fact that animals can go into certain vaults, she just hates that dog. 

“I have to be a good man gone bad in this one.” Cooper explains to Barb. She’d asked after the latest script changes but she didn’t seem wholly interested as she messed with her Pip-Boy. “I don’t really like it, I’m meant to be a sheriff, not a cold-blooded killer.”

Barb scoffs and shakes her head, “Even good men have to make bad decisions, Cooper.”

Cooper straightens up and glares at her. At his silence she finally looks up, her face quickly becoming guarded at the look on his. “Not all of them,” he argues, voice soft. You and Janey glance between the two of them, this goes beyond a simple script change. 

“Well,” Barb goes back to cutting her steak, shaking her head at him, “that’s a very naive way of looking at the world.” She gives him a sharp smile, her eyes empty and cold. 

You’re grateful when Janey passes a piece of broccoli to Roosevelt and the both of them are snapped out of their pseudo argument. Barb snaps at the dog and Cooper laughs, you shrink into your chair, wishing to be anywhere else. 

When dinner is over, you clean up while Cooper and Barb put Janey to bed. You slide open the door to the backyard and tug a cigarette out of your case. You dig around in your bag for a while, nearly breaking down when you can’t find your lighter. 

“Need this?” Fire sparks up before you and Cooper grins as he holds his lighter out. You smile in relief and thank him, sparking up the end and taking a deep inhale. You feel yourself relax slightly, easing off of the meltdown you were about to have. 

Little things keep seeming to build and build on top of you. You’re hanging on by a very thin thread and you’re worried about what’s going to happen when it snaps. “You alright, sweetheart?” He seems genuinely concerned and you can’t even look at him anymore. 

You take a seat and nod, focusing instead on the stars above you. He’s further out from civilization, he’s got a better view of the night sky than you do from your crowded apartment. “Just been a little stressed out lately.”

He sits beside you and reaches over, his hand lands on your thigh and he squeezes. It lasts less than a second, it’s clearly meant to comfort you but it sets your body on fire and you turn away from him slightly. He frowns, an apologetic look on his face and he backs off. 

You can’t find it in yourself to feel guilty. You don’t need to start being attracted to him on top of lying to him. Not when you just scorned Barb for the exact same thing. “I hope I haven’t been adding to that.”

You look over at him and shake your head, “Not at all,” you’re the only reason I’m like this. 

He seems to catch onto what you’re not saying. He might not know exactly why he’s stressing you out, but he’s more perceptive than others give him credit for. Still, he doesn’t say anything. He just nods and takes a swig from the glass of whiskey resting in his lap. 

“Sorry about earlier.”

“What?” He sighs, giving you a look that tells you not to bother playing dumb. You shrug, “Wasn’t the worst fight I’ve ever had to watch.”

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “It wasn’t even a fight. That’s what bothers me, she says these little things and sometimes it just goes right over my head.”

You find yourself speaking before you can stop yourself, “It’s only later that you realize she was being cruel.”

He looks over at you and nods. His head tilts in confusion, “You know what I’m talking about?”

You nod, puffing on the cigarette between your fingers before you continue. You feel yourself starting to ease up again, your shoulders finally lowering from their place next to your ears. “Yeah, I’ve got a long list of ex’s like that.” Your mouth snaps closed when you realize what you said. 

You probably shouldn’t be saying ex to the man you’re trying to keep with his wife. But he doesn’t get upset, he only sighs. The sound is resigned, like you’re only confirming something he already knew to be true. 

“You don’t seem very happy,” Cooper glanced over his shoulder and spotted you. You had your heels in your hand, making your way across his back deck to stand next to him at the pool. You drop the heels on one of his lawn chairs and sit down to dip your legs in the pool. 

He stays standing, staring down at you. You look up and offer him a tired grin. You must have been about as sick of this as he was. After a minute he finally sat down beside you. “Can’t say I’m pleased to have all these people in my house.”

You both glanced back at the party. Dozens of Vault-Tec employees streamed in and out of his living room, their voices carrying, even back to where you and Cooper were hidden away. He hated this, feeling out of place in his home. 

“None of your friend’s wanted to come?” You glance over at him, a concerned look on your face. He appreciates it, your concern for his comfort, especially considering Barb doesn't seem to care for it at all. She hadn’t asked if he was okay with this, or comfortable with this wrap party. She’d simply gone ahead with it and then sprung it on him. 

“Seb was here a while ago but he left.” He scoffed and threw back the rest of his drink. “Can’t say I blame him, if it wasn’t my house I would have left hours ago.” 

You shrugs, “Let’s go.” You’re staring at him, eyes wide and earnest like it’s the simplest solution in the world. 

He laughs, more surprised than anything, “What?”

You stand up, tugging your heels back on and holding a hand out to him. “Let’s leave. I can’t say I’m very happy to be here either.”

He argues, “These are your coworkers, sweetheart.” But he still takes your hand, getting back to his feet and letting you lead him through his back gate. You tug your keys out of your purse, sliding into your little convertible and giving him an eager smile while you wait for him to follow. 

“They're a bunch of vultures, Coop. Let’s just get out of here.” Hearing you use his nickname affects him more than he wants it too. Affection has been few and far between at the house lately, he finds himself leaning into it when you offer it more than he should. 

Things are tense between Barb and himself, but he’s still a married man. He shouldn’t get so happy when you call him Coop. And he really shouldn’t be leaving his wife behind at this ridiculous fucking party and getting in your car. But he finds himself going against his better knowledge and following anyway. 

He doesn't ask where you’re taking him. He doesn’t even care, he just wants to be near you. You’re kind, you don’t judge him. You leave him feeling a little weightless everytime you snap one of your witty little retorts at him. He’s charmed by you, more than he should be, but he can’t bring himself to be bothered by it. 

You’re eating shitty junk food and sipping on Nuka-Cola’s in the back of your convertible. Cooper kind of feels like a teenager again. It’s been a long time since he’s had some decent greasy burgers. Barb doesn’t like bringing fast food into the house and it’s been a while since he and Janey have snuck some on the way home from school. 

You’ve parked your car in the desolate parking lot of the closed shopping center. You’re both quiet, staring up at the stars or the bright flashing billboards across from you. Cooper glances over at you and curiosity gets the better of him. 

“How’d you end up working for Vault-Tec?” You give him a questioning look and he shrugs, taking a sip from his bottle. “Just doesn’t seem like your sort of company.” You seem too kind for them, too compassionate. 

“I, um,” you chuckle, swiping away some condensation that had dripped onto your bare thigh and Cooper follows the movement lazily. “I got swept up in the war time efforts. There were a bunch of campaigns to get women to start assisting during the war.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, “The Nuka-Cola girl roped me in with her patriotism and I found myself at a plant assembling your power suits.”

Cooper’s shoulders tense up and he has to fight off a nasty retort. You catch his gaze and flinch away from it slightly. He doesn’t blame you for all the faulty defects in those suits, but he’d watched good men and women die on the frontlines because of those damn things. It’s hard not to get angry when they’re mentioned, especially because they’d told them the suits weren’t safe. The government forced them into them anyway.

”I know, there were a lot of defects. A lot of people died because of those suits. That’s how Bud discovered me actually, I raised hell with my supervisor. I tried to get them to fix the issue or just stop manufacturing them. We were wasting good supplies on death traps.”

You shook your head and sighed, “It didn’t matter what I said. They never stopped making them. But, Bud, liked my fire. He thought it showed good leadership skills that I was so willing to stand up for what I belived in. He took me to Vault-Tec when he left the suits behind.” You took in a deep shuddering breath, for a moment Cooper could swear he saw tears in your eyes. “I always seem to work for the wrong side.”

He’d been reaching out, hoping to offer some comfort, when his hand stopped. It dropped back down to his side and he glared at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your eyes widened and you froze, seemingly caught off guard. “What?”

“‘I always seem to work for the wrong side.’ What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” Is this it? The confirmation that he’s been looking for that his fears weren’t unfounded. Had you known this whole time he’d been fighting with Barb and not told him?

He didn't want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. How twisted had his life become that he was putting more faith into you, practically a stranger, than his own wife. 

You shook your head, a frown appearing on your lips and eyes boring angrily into his. “That’s not what I said.”

His mouth opened in shock, not quite sure he was hearing you properly. “What? Yes, it is.”

“Cooper,” you snapped, his name sounding harsh for the first time. You’d always spoken so sweetly to him, he couldn’t understand where this was coming from. “That’s not what I said, what is your problem?”

Could he have misheard you? You’d never gotten mad at him before. You would only be acting like this if he really was wrong. He sighed, figuring he should just drop it before he made things worse. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Your eyes softened and you reached out, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “It’s alright. Let’s just enjoy tonight.” He nodded, leaning closer towards you while you reached forward to turn the radio on. Despite the both of you knowing it was a bad idea, you rested your head against him. Snuggled up together and watching the stars, he could get used to this.

You hear your name, rushed and bordering on a shout. You whip around, frowning when you see Cooper barreling towards you. He reaches you, grabbing you by the elbow and dragging you into an empty office. 

You’re taken aback by the aggression in his actions but you’re more concerned when you notice his eyes. They’re bloodshot and his cheeks are flushed, like he’s been crying or was trying not to. You reach up before you can think, hand cupping his cheek and ignoring the minute way he leans into it. 

“Cooper? What is it? What’s wrong?”

His eyes are wild, darting all around the room like he’s waiting for someone to jump out and grab him. “It’s Barb. I put a transmitter on her Pip-Boy and I heard her in her meeting. She’s talking about starting the nuclear war, she’s going to fucking kill everyone.” You step back from him, arms dropping to your sides. 

“Cooper,” his name is a barely heard whisper. “Why did you have to dig?” It’s over. You knew this was coming. Cooper was too smart not to start digging on his own, even without your reassurances. You’d only delayed the inevitable and hurt yourself in the process. Hurt him. 

He frowns and shakes his head, stepping back from you. His face moves through a hundred different emotions, faster than you can process, but you manage to catch a few of them. He’s betrayed, hurt, disgusted by the sight of you. “You knew?” The words are spit out with such venom you nearly flinch from him.

You can feel tears burning the back of your throat and you glare at him, “Why couldn’t you have left it alone?” It’s misplaced anger, you know. You’re mad at yourself for getting involved in this, for dragging him down with you. You’re mad at Barb and Bud and all the fucked up corporations you keep finding yourself employed by. But the anger strikes out at him and you regret it immediately. 

“You knew!” It’s not a question anymore, it’s a realization. He shakes his head and he almost looks more hurt than when he discovered Barb. “You’re fucking sick, all of you!” He’s out the door and down the hall before you have a chance to stop him. 

You sink back against the wall, wiping at tears that won’t stop coming. Betty finds you, she takes one look at you and then a dissapearingCooper before she’s dragging you into Barb’s office. “You need to wait here for them.”

You don’t argue, there’s no point. You’d failed in your mission and Cooper was beyond Barb’s grasp. Maybe it was for the better, that he got away from her while he could. Dying rather than being trapped in a vault with her might be a better ending for him. 

You can’t get that look of his out of your mind, not even while Barb berates you. She nearly fires you, but Bud stops her. She storms out of her office and you just keep replaying that moment with Cooper. You could have played along with him, never let him know you knew about Vault-Tec and just run away with him. 

But the thought of living the rest of your short life lying to him makes you sick to your stomach. 

Bud calls your name for the inth time and grabs your shoulders. You snap your gaze up to his, finally noticing that he’s been kneeling in front of you this whole time. ”You have to go in early.”

You shake your head dumbly, not understanding what he’s saying. He frowns, eyes desperate and he keeps glancing over his shoulder. “Barb is livid. She wants you gone. We’re gonna have to send you down early.”

“You mean…” you trail off, mind going blank at the thought of being put into cryo months before you were prepared to. You want to argue with him and tell him you need more time. Thoughts of going after Cooper and trying to make him see reason float through your brain. 

He seems to track your train of thought because he shakes his head. “We can’t delay this. You go now or you don’t go at all.” 

You hadn’t realized just how much Bud seemed to care for you until this moment. The sheer determination on his face that he wouldn’t let Barb bury you would have made you sentimental were it not for the current gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak you were experiencing. 

He stands up and glances over at Betty. The worry slowly disappears as a plan starts to formulate within him. “Betty will take her car and get you to the vault, I’ll have people there ready to take you in.” He grabs your arm and yanks you out of your chair. “You need to leave now, before Barb comes back with security.”

He and Betty share a look over your shoulder before she nods. She grabs your elbow from Bud and marches you down the hall. You’re barely present for the walk through the hallways of Vault-Tec. You don’t have time to take in the world around you, appreciate the beauty before it’s gone. 

You’re numb. Stuck in a limbo and paralysis of your own creation. When you make it to the vault, Betty leaves you there to be taken in by the guards. They lead you to Vault 31 and march you down the long hall until you reach your cryo pod. 

You don’t know when you’ll be released, what the world will be like when you come back out. But you know Cooper will be gone and there'll be nothing left for you. 

You step into the pod and let your eyes slowly drift closed. 

Your pod pops open with a hiss and your head lolls to the side. There’s an odd buzzing noise before you but you can’t see much of anything. “It will take a minute for your eyes to adjust.”

Your brows furrow as you place the voice, “Bud?” Your hands grope blindly through the dark for the edge of your pod. Your eyes begin to thaw, vague shapes and colors making themselves clear to you first. “If you’re here, how long have I been asleep?” 

Odd, you can’t make out his form anywhere, but it sounds like he’s right in front of you. You step down and there’s a loud buzz, like wheels rolling across metal. “Watch out!” You tilt your head in confusion, blinking the rest of the frost out of your eyes and gasping when you see what’s in front of you. 

A brain on a fucking vacuum. “Bud!” You shout, completely caught off guard by this new look of his. 

He sighs, the sound robotic and staticky. “Yes, it’s me. It’s the only way I could stay alive to monitor the success of my vaults.” Even just as a brain, you can still hear the pride in his voice, “I am proud to say that we have been most successful these past two hundred and thirteen years.”

You can’t respond, winded by how long it’s been since you’ve been asleep. Everything you’ve ever known was gone. Officially. 

Your mind drifts to Cooper but you stop it before it gets too far. Even before he found out about your role in Vault-Tec, you were never going to be in the same vault as him. No matter what, the two of you would never have seen each other again. 

There’s no reason to mourn him now. 

Bud rolls in front of you, leading you to the door of the vault. “Hank MacLean and Betty will be here to greet you. You’ll be a part of the Triennal trade, your official entry into vault 33.” He’s rapidly firing off information faster than you can keep up. 

You know the protocols, they were drilled into you long before you came down here. For every one of Bud’s Buds they had to marry their way into the vault they were entering. You just prayed Hank was kind enough to give you someone nice to marry, maybe even tall. 

The vault’s door is rolling open before you get a chance to prepare yourself. Ten smiling faces stare eagerly at you, you offer them tentative looks. You search among them for Betty and Hank, it takes you a moment to recognize them. To realize that the two old people at the front are Hank and Betty. 

They’d been out much longer than you had if the wrinkles were anything to go by. 

“Welcome to vault 33!” A big eyed girl shouts at you from behind Hank. You offer her a shaky smile, racking your brain for what you’re supposed to say. 

“Thank you,” the words are stilted and you wince internally. “In honor of your welcoming, my vault has sent ahead supplies and crops. My overseer apologizes for not being here to greet you all, but I’m happy to be here!” The words sound scripted, more than you would like. 

Betty picks up on your discomfort and ushers you forward. “Come on, you should meet your husband.” You shoot her a scared look but the face she gives you shuts you down. There’s no backing out of this, as much as you might want to. This is your reality now. 

“Norm, meet your new bride.” 

Well, he’s certainly not tall. 

“I still can’t believe you're not pregnant.” You hand Lucy a wrench and she frowns from her place on the floor. She pauses in her repairs of the pipes for a moment to pester you further. “Have you had the doctors check my brother’s sperm count?”

“Lucy!” You admonish, glaring down at her. She shrugs, not finding any fault in the question. You don’t have the heart to tell her that in the three years you’ve been married to her brother you’ve only had sex once. 

It was your wedding night, extremely awkward and unpleasant for both of you. Norm wasn’t the type to just easily trust someone he didn’t know and you were still nursing a heartbreak he could never comprehend. He wasn’t a bad husband, he was actually amazing. 

You two just seemed to work better as partners rather than husband and wife. You both kept your nightly activities, or lack thereof, to yourselves. It wasn’t exactly smiled upon to not be actively trying to repopulate the earth. But the extremely personal questions about your husband’s sperm and your fertility were beyond annoying. 

Still, everytime you even consider trying again with him you think of Cooper and want to cry. “His sperm count is fine. It just takes longer for some couples.” She doesn’t seem like she wants to let it go, but you force her to by shoving her back towards the broken pipe. 

You know she’s only been bugging you about it because her time in the trade is coming up. She’s just worried that her relationship will be like yours and Norm’s. She wants kids in a way you can’t bring yourself to and she’s worried her fertility takes after her brother’s. 

You understand the fear, but if she asks you one more damn time you’re going to clock her over the head with a hammer. Steph comes up to you both and gives you a placating smile. She must see the murder on your face because she offers to distract Lucy.

You thank her and storm off back to your housing unit. Norm, thankfully, isn’t home when you get there. He’s too perceptive for his own good sometimes. You don’t think you’re mentally there enough to try and lie to him about why you’re upset today. 

You decide to just call it a day. You’ll go to bed and when you get up, it will be time for Lucy’s wedding. You can just look forward to that and ignore the issues within your own marriage. 

You clutch your bleeding stomach while Norm grabs you and drags you under a picnic table. You both watch in stunned, traumatized, silence as your fellow vault dwellers are slaughtered all around you. Norm’s hand is gripping yours so tight you can feel your bones grinding together but you can’t point it out. 

A raider shoots at Bob, the kind old man who would slip you extra jello, and his blood splatters into your open mouth. It’s only a shoulder shot, he could live. But the raider is pulling out his machete and charging towards him. You make to leap out from under the table but Norm yanks you back. 

“Norm!” You hiss, but he just shakes his head. Your eyes widen in disbelief, you can’t believe him. Sitting here and watching your friends just die. You could help, you can’t just sit here. You yank your hand out of his and charge out from under the table. 

Your arms wrap around the raider’s waist and you both go flying. He lands on top of the wedding cake, frosting smearing across his bald head. You wrestle for his machete, eventually ripping it out of his hand. You thrust it up into his chest and he falls limp on top of you. 

You grunt at the impact, slipping on top of Lucy’s ruined cake while you roll him off. Lucy storms down the stairs, holding onto a wound matching yours. She offers you her hand and helps you to your feet. “Norm?” She questions, eyes watering and desperate. You point to where he still sits under the table. 

Across from you Steph grabs a gun and starts mowing down raiders left and right. You’re bending over for the raider’s machete when someone knocks into you from behind. You fall forward, head snapping against the concrete and vision going black. 

You don’t know how that horrible beginning with Cooper Howard started. When exactly you began to fall for him among your betrayal. But you know how it ends. It ends with you following Lucy MacLean out into the brightness of the Wastelands. It ends with his death and the Ghoul’s birth. 

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.

I’m not sure if I’ve put this in my last few posts or not. But, all of my dividers are the creation of @saradika-graphics (give her some love bc she’s amazing)

[lovelynim]

Shocking, isn't it?

Genshin Impact - Scaramouche x Tartaglia

A/N: This was greatly inspired by @/ikimaru's post. It's literally living in my head rent free, so I needed to do something about it.

Summary: Tartaglia is nervous and all that tension might ruin such a good moment... So Scaramouche decides to tweak things a little.

Word count: 1204 words

Warnings: Midly suggestive content, nothing explicit tho

Tartaglia's back hit the wall, with so much strength that it forced the air out of his lungs. And before he could recover, the assault went on. It was hard for him to stand on his legs, to keep himself together and not fall apart like a castle of cards.

“What's the issue, newbie? Can't keep up?” Scaramouche scoffed, taking a moment to laugh at his ‘comrade’.

To his and everyone's surprise, this wasn't a fight. However, Tartaglia couldn't help but to think that there was some murderous intent directed to him - but, if anything, those only made it more exciting. “H-hah, you sure aren’t… all talk, balladeer,” he gasped, wiping off a little drop of drool that was pouring from the corner of his lips.

Scaramouche clicked his tongue, amused. Despite their height difference, he was the one cornering Tartaglia against the wall. “Can’t say the same goes for you,” he teased, his hand reaching for the door knob next to them and effortlessly pushing it open. There was no need for words or gestures as they both already knew what to do. 

Tartaglia barely stepped inside the bedroom and Scaramouche was already latching himself onto him. The same hand that tightly groped his red shirt pushed him towards the bed, barely giving Tartaglia time to kick off his boots. Damn, this guy really was something else, Tartaglia thought, whining a little into their vicious kissing.

Scaramouche pushed him into the mattress, rubbing the corner of his lips with the back of his hands. “You look scared, did I go too hard on you?” He cooed, irony poisoning his voice while he started to shed his own layers of clothes. “I thought you could ‘take me wherever, whenever’, no?”

Tartaglia chuckled - hoping it would help him hide his uneasiness. He wasn’t so sure of those words anymore. “And I can, balladeer, heh…” That didn’t even convince himself, but oh well.

Scaramouche tilted his head, getting his knee on top of the mattress and slowly approaching the ginger. Tartaglia leaned against the bedpost and watched in silence, at the verge of cracking under the tension and the pressure. Now that it was really happening, could he sustain all of his claims for before? Despite his looks, Scaramouche clearly knew what he was doing and was going to do, while Tartaglia, on the other hand…

Before he could sink any further into these thoughts, Scaramouche straddled one of his legs. Shit, he was so close—

“Eyes on me, newbie,” the other’s voice broke into Tartaglia’s head. He had a playful, yet dominating look on his face. “You might learn a thing or two…” So cocky, Tartaglia thought, but he wasn’t in a position to talk back.

Sighing, as he was forced to follow orders, Tartaglia closed his eyes and leaned in, kissing the balladeer’s lips again. Their lips crashed into each other - without passion, but burning with desire.

Despite not knowing his “coworker” that well, here Tartaglia was. However, as inexperienced as he was, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he hug Scaramouche? Or just keep them away? What if he messed up? Archons, that would be so embarrassing, and what if Scaramouche spread that he was a virgin and—

“...hey,” Scaramouche sighed, breaking their kiss. He looked a little annoyed, but mostly because they stopped kissing. “What are you thinking about? Pay attention, damned newbie…”

Tartaglia’s cheeks flushed in a bright shade of pink. Did he mess up their kissing? He practiced for so long… “I-is something wrong?” Tartaglia dared to ask, his fingers digging into the mattress, tightly holding it.

“You’re too tense,” Scaramouche complained with half closed eyes. Tartaglia wished he could hear the other’s thoughts, it was so hard to read what he was feeling - his face always looked the same, he always seemed so angry. But, this time, he was sure he heard him… laugh. “Let me just…”

Scaramouche quickly reached for Tartaglia’s shirt collar and nearly ripped all the buttons open as he dragged his hand down. The cloth that was being held together quickly fell down Tartaglia’s body, exposing his body to Scaramouche hungry eyes. “Don’t worry,” Scaramouche muttered, gently cupping one of Tartaglia’s cheeks, leaning close to admire his nervous expression. His finger slid down Tartaglia’s jawline, lifting his face by his chin, “it will be fun…”

Tartaglia couldn’t say anything. His throat was closed shut and barely air was making its way through it. He could only watch and shiver, tensing in anticipation as Scaramouche pressed his hand against his chest and slid it down his body. “S-Scaram-”

Crackle.

…huh?

A small purple light came from where Scaramouche’s hand was. Tartaglia widened his eyes as small bolts of electricity surrounded the other man’s finger, crackling as he imbued his hand with electro energy. “W-wait, Scaram- ah!”

All it took was a single finger pressing into his stomach for one of the sparkles to shock him. Scaramouche grinned, letting the electro energy flow into Tartaglia’s body. “What's wrong? It doesn’t hurt, does it? Too much for you?”

“N-nohot reall- ah! But it- a-agh, tihickles..!” Tartaglia whimpered, pressing his eyes shut and clenching his hands into fists. It should hurt, he thought, but it didn’t. All he could feel was an electric pulse flowing, stimulating all his nerves at once.

“Oh, really?” Scaramouche feigned surprised, tilting his head slightly. Pressing his index into the spot just above Tartaglia’s navel, he began to draw little shapes: a circle, a star, a heart… all while sending little bolts of electricity into the skin. “Then laugh, newbie. And relax, yes?”

Tartaglia's body trembled with spasms, jerking his limbs in a weird way. It tickled so bad and it was just a finger, Scaramouche was literally toying with him, mocking, torturing even… but he didn’t dislike those ideas. Again, if anything, those only made it more exciting. “W-wahahait! H-hnngh! P-plehease! It f-feels wehehei- aHAah, c-cohome on!”

Scaramouche only smiled, his finger tracing each muscle of Tartaglia’s abs, moving to his side and then down to his hip. It tickled terribly, terrifically. The ginger curled his toes and giggled his free leg while the other simply trembled under Scaramouche’s weight. That sensation made him want to laugh, to cry, to moan. “S-stahahap, ahAHa, I-I’m seheher- AHAH!!”

Before he could protest any further, Scaramouche added a second finger, pinching a bit of soft skin just below Tartaglia’s ribs, rolling that patch of meat between his digits while showering it with electro energy. “You don’t sound like you want me to stop, newbie,” he whispered softly, watching Tartaglia nearly melt under his gentle-shock-treatment. 

“I think you’re into this, huh?” He teased, finally ceasing the electric flow. Tartaglia's body went limp against the bed, his head spinning and his vision blurry.

Tartaglia sighed, taking his trembling hand to his face, moving it through his hair tiredly. “Y-yeah…” He nodded, a shy smile spreading on his face and adorning it along with his flushed cheeks.

Scaramouche laughed, shaking his head for a moment and smirking back at his newbie’s messed up state. “I see,” he then moved his hands, holding both Tartaglia’s hips, “so let’s see how much you can take, newbie.”

Crackle.

[blainesebastian]

safe

words: 7,823 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: R (for violence) summary: obviously inspo is coming from seeing bikeriders and this image and my extensive knowledge of sons of anarchy. you don't have to watch that show to read this, but it takes place in that sort of universe, with inspo from the show *u* just wanted biker austin x you notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating.

Every time Austin thinks he knows exactly who you are, you throw him through a wash cycle on steroids. You came back to Charming, a place you said you’d never step foot in again, for what? It’s certainly not for fucking him, that’s for damn sure. As much as he loves you, still after all this time, Austin knows you have to be running away from something…because running towards what you want with full abandon has never been your strong suit.

And you’re certainly not returning to St. Thomas for the great fucking medical plan.

“I just needed a change of scenery.” You tell him in those mint green scrubs that always highlight the perfect swell of your ass.

Austin rolls his eyes but doesn’t tell you that he thinks you’re full of shit.

Chicago’s too fast paced, maybe you’ll try New York—there’s a beautiful, hopeful smile on your face—like you don’t know that the minute you stepped foot back in Charming that you’d never leave. You’ll get sucked back into the black hole of this place and you’ll never be able to find your way out. Will probably die here.

Whatever—it’s really not Austin’s problem anymore, is it? You are not his girlfriend, he’s not responsible for your happiness or your decisions. That ship sailed a long time ago when you left straight out of high school—went to a fancy college, got your medical degree, and began a new life.

Without him.

And yet Austin also understands the utter pull of you, consistently keeping him directly in your orbit, your wants and needs incredibly important because they always have been. Which is why Austin doesn’t believe you when you say that you didn’t come back for any sort of reason.

He doesn’t believe this ‘change of scenery’ nonsense.

You patch up a split knuckle, dig out glass—Austin doesn’t even flinch, just watches you the whole time like he doesn’t have blood on his face. You have no idea what he’s gotten into lately—and you don’t want to know.

“Think I’m gonna make it doc?” He asks, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

You hum lightly, “Barely.” And pour the antiseptic without warning him.

You hate that you came back here, back home—but Austin’s always been your safe place.

--

“I think you’re scared.” Austin says one evening while dropping you off at your dad’s house, empty now, a living and breathing reminder of all the shit you went through in high school.

You never wanted to live here, in your drunken father’s home, always more satisfied with the concept of burning the thing down. Yet here you are, taking off Austin’s motorcycle helmet and handing it back to him, looking for your keys to get inside. You’re living here, attempting to reorganize and rebuild the place to make it your own.

“I think you don’t know me as well as you used to.” You throw back and there’s a hint of teasing there, like you don’t want to turn this conversation into something serious.

Austin rubs one of his eyebrows, itching for a cigarette but now’s not the time, he’s not staying long. “I think…I’m the only person who does know you.” He’s not afraid to admit that. You’ve done this dance so many times that you practically own the rights to the choreography.

You’ve proven time and time again that you’ve got nails and teeth sunk into one another, so wrapped up that you can’t unravel it as hard as you try. No matter how much time or distance passes between you two. It’s so beyond anything that Austin can put into words—he doesn’t really believe in soulmates or fate but, if he did, he thinks him and you could put a definition to that.

That’s why Austin knows that you’re never going to leave Charming, not really anyways.

You’ll be in love until it kills both of you, figuratively or quite literally.

“That’s the real reason you came back, isn’t it?”

You sigh softly—after a long day, your hair is a little unruly on the top of your head. You’re ready for a long hot shower and to get out of these scrubs. Austin only wishes he could assist with that. He lets his eyes travel over your form, purposely checking you out when you look at him. But you both know it’s more than just a sexual attraction here, that Austin defaults to that because it’s easier for him to work out in his head. While it’s very clear that there’s only one face he sees when he’s inside of someone, no one will ever know or understand him as you do.

That line of deeply knowing goes both ways.

“I told you why I came back here.”

Austin smiles a little and starts his bike. Fine, if you wants to play this game, he’s got nothing but time.

“Right,” He puts his helmet on, making sure it’s fastened. “I just don’t believe you.”

And he backs the bike out of the driveway and goes home.

--

Austin doesn’t figure out what’s going on until you ask for a ride home in the middle of the day. It’s a little weird, to say the least, he’s in the midst of things with the club, his club leader riding his ass about certain decisions he needs to uphold as Vice President. But literally, he couldn’t be bothered less, not having one iota of a regret driving his bike to the hospital to pick up you instead.

You seem a bit frazzled when you climb on the back of Austin’s bike, your arms squeezing around his waist just a little too tightly. Austin frowns, looking over his shoulder as he hands you the helmet to put on,

“You alright?” He asks.

You nod quickly, forcing a soft smile, “Yeah, just a long shift. M’tired.”

“You didn’t drive today?” Austin starts his bike—not that he’s complaining.

“Oh I did but the…it’s making a weird noise when I use the break.”

Austin raises his eyebrows, putting a pair of sunglasses on. “You know I work at a garage, right?”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound fluttering Austin’s stomach even after all this time. “Just take me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He does a fake salute before pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

--

Austin’s got this wicked sense of observation mixed with paranoia—and he’s convinced this is why it makes him a decent V.P., being able to notice when things are off, when things appear altered than how they should. Sometimes catching tiny mistakes and misnomers are the difference between a good deal going sour, life and death.

So he instantly picks up on the fact that there’s a car following you both, all the way from the hospital to your house. Even though the vehicle doesn’t stop, it passes and parks a little further down, but it’s there, nonetheless.

You get off the bike, handing the helmet back to him, a soft coy smile on your face that makes Austin want to kiss you. Your hair is wild, cheeks a bit pink from the wind blowing, beautiful and stunning all at once.

“Thanks.” You say, adjusting your satchel from sitting on your back to your hip, “Think I’m finally getting used to this thing again.”

Austin hums a bit, parking it before he slips off the bike. He runs his hands through his hair, removing his riding gloves and pocketing them, before adjusting the leather cut that sits easily on his shoulders.

Easy and yet heavy sometimes, all at once.

“Yeah I never understood why you hated ridin’ it, I’m an excellent driver.” Which, alright, he’s a decent driver—he goes through turns too fast but he tries not to if you’re on with him.

You’re distracted though, not picking up the bait, glancing around your driveway as if you’re…looking for something, or someone. Austin licks his lips, putting the helmet on the back of the seat.

“Hey, this uneasiness that I’m sensin’ right now—have anythin’ to do with that car that followed us from the hospital?” He motions with his chin to the car he’s referring to idling down a few houses.

Your entire body suddenly goes rigid, eyes widening over Austin’s words. You follow Austin’s direction down the street and you look sick when your eyes land on the car. There’s this instinctual step back, like you’re afraid, and Austin moves closer to touch your arm.

He steadies you, squeezing gently, thumb running along the inside of your wrist, “Hey, what’s going on? Who is that?”

You sigh, running a shaking hand over your face. You swallow and finally bring your eyes to meet Austin’s, “His name is Rick—when I was in Chicago, I—I met him at a conference and we went out a few times. When I tried to end it, it got violent and he started stalking me,” You shake your head, embarrassment clear on your choked voice even though you have nothing to be ashamed for. “I tried getting a restraining order but you can see how well that worked out.”

Austin feels himself go cold, which is never a good sign. That’s how his rage works, like a slow ticking clock, never heated, never like an explosion of emotion. It sits on him calmly, like a wave lapping the shore of a beach. He straightens his shoulders, shaking his head as he goes to turn and address this fucking asshole who can’t take no for an answer.

“Austin, no,” You reach for him, managing to tug his arm to stop him from walking, “Rick’s—he’s an ATF agent and dangerous.”

Austin almost scoffs because so am I, but he knows what you mean. You know exactly what kind of business his club does and getting involved with an ATF agent will only bring trouble down upon everyone.

But Austin’s so fucking angry that he doesn’t care, he’s always felt like he’s had the uncanny ability to think in steps ahead, consider his future, but if you’re here? You’re a part of that future now. And he’s not going to let this Rick guy think he can just follow you here all the way from Chicago and threaten you.

“Go inside, Y/N.” Austin motions to the house, not looking back as he walks towards the car in question.

Rick, who has fucking binoculars, drops them quickly when he realizes Austin is approaching the car and not stopping. He also seems to get the point when Austin pulls his weapon of choice, a hunting knife, from the holster on his jeans and sticks right through the grill of Rick’s car.

Rick quickly gets out, his face red with pinched anger as the car begins to smoke. “Vandalism, deadly weapon.” He snaps and slams the car door closed. He’s shorter than Austin and a lot angrier, which is amusing to him, “That's six months in County, asshole.”

Austin can see what you maybe thought about this guy. He’s handsome with his strong jaw and cropped hair, eyes intense. Any member of law enforcement gives off a false aura of calm because they’re supposed to be people anyone can trust. It’s almost ironic that you feel safer with a criminal. Almost.

He throws shit right back at Rick as he takes his knife out of the grill, putting it back in the holster, “Violating a restraining order? You'll be in the cell next to mine.” He grins then, licking his lips as his eyes skitter over Rick’s body, “They reach how to suck dick in ATF school?”

Rick laughs, not even looking remotely interested but Austin doesn’t care. He’s trying to make him uncomfortable because clearly he doesn’t give a shit about doing the same to you. Besides, Austin knows that he’s not really angry about the car, or even about Austin approaching him per say, he’s pissed off that someone is getting in the way of him fucking around with you.

“Badass biker.” Rick tuts, shaking his head as he looks over Austin, like it would be a pleasure of his to ruin his life.

Austin is not fucking scared of this piece of shit, “You harassing Y/N? That ends here.” He tells him, “Or the next time it won't be this car that I'm drainin’ fluid from.” He goes to take a step back because regardless of the stance Rick is pulling, he can tell that he’s rattled him just a little bit.

All of this is probably a terrible idea given the situation that the club is in right now but he refuses to let you take the brunt of dealing with this asshole alone.

“You threatening a federal agent?” Rick snaps out, pissed off that he’s been made to look like an idiot. Which, Austin doesn’t think that’s too far of a stretch, really.

He turns, giving Rick a good once over before taking a few steps into his space. He purposely uses his height difference to look down at him when he speaks, “I'm threaten’ you. Go away—it's my last warning.”

As Austin walks away, he just hopes it’s enough.

--

Things slightly escalate from there. Rick does not fuck off like Austin hoped or intended but he supposes he shouldn’t exactly be surprised, either. He suspects that he might hang around, maybe show up at your work, but what he doesn’t expect is when Rick surprises him when Austin is attempting to run errands. And not just any type of errand, though most don’t know that, but he’s not really just visiting this deli because he enjoys the chipped ham.

Rick wanders in as Austin talks to the butcher, their conversation shifting to something safer because of the company.

One thing happens after another, Rick gets in his face and Austin can’t control his temper even though he knows he should—that this is one giant trap to catch him off guard. And yet he falls right into it because the minute Rick opens his mouth about you, Austin’s fist is flying through the air.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rick smirks, sticking his hands in his pockets as he stands by one of the display cases with meat inside, pretending to look interested. “Y/N and I have unfinished business…and I intend on talking that out with her, in bed, with her spread out beneath me.” It’s very much a whether you like it or not attitude and Austin hits Rick so fucking hard that he sails through the glass window of the deli.

Not his finest moment.

And yet he has zero regrets as he sits in a police interview room, icing his right fist as another ATF agent graces him with his presence. Greg Thornson with his bony-ass frame, closing the door with his foot because he’s knee-deep in a file that no doubt has every wrongdoing he’s ever committed since high school.

The usual dog and pony show that any of these police agents try to shake them up with.

Austin’s so used to this, he knows his expression screams ‘boredom’ and that for some reason makes Greg smile, putting the file down on the table. He sits across from him, regarding Austin for a moment and he bites his tongue on saying anything he might regret.

The point in all this is to get back to you, not to end up in a holding cell for the night. So he straightens his shoulders and looks right back at Greg, a challenging look to his eye.

The shorter smiles, “So, we’re not going to hold you—even though you assaulted a federal agent.”

Austin purses his lips and lightly shrugs his shoulders, not saying a goddamn word. He knows exactly what story Ronnie Peterson, the deli owner, gave to the police.

“Mr. Peterson corroborates your story that Rick Clarington came at you first.” Greg sounds not moved at the slightest by that but Austin doesn’t care.

He smiles, “Can I go now?”

Greg hums but before Austin can stand and leave, “Why does Clarington have a hard-on for you?”

“Who doesn't?” The corners of Austin’s mouth twitch up but then sighs—Thornson might enjoy a little game of distractions but Austin’s goal is to keep himself as much under the radar as possible. So he shifts gears, giving him a long look, “You know why.”

Greg smiles, closing the file in front of him. Austin obviously doesn’t know Greg very well, other than the briefest of introductions when he first walked in (just what he needs, another ATF agent up his ass), but he can tell that he’s in this job title for the ‘cat and mouse’ game of it all. Austin’s not a typical criminal, he doesn’t squirm, especially when he knows that that’s the goal Greg has with this conversation.

He’s digging, pulling at straws, anything to give him the upper hand.

“You're right, I do.” Greg taps the table with his fingertips, “Y/N L/N, the charming ingenue. High school sweethearts, right?”

Austin’s face gives nothing away but he does nod softly in confirmation, “Yeah.”

He can literally see the wheels turning in Greg’s head, the shorter making an impressed noise as he glances down at Austin’s bloody knuckles, “She fears for her life so she comes back home to the only man she knows loves her enough to protect her.”

His expression matches stone, unsure of what Greg wants out of this other than to just catch him off guard, but he’s literally got nothing to say as far as he and you are concerned. There’s also not that much to tell—he and you were dating in high school; it was one of the strongest connections he’s ever had to anyone. And that hasn’t changed—Austin doesn’t think it ever will.

“A guy…” Greg trails off for a moment, “who would have no problem punching a federal agent through a glass window.”

“The glass window part was an accident.”

Greg lets out a soft laugh, nodding, “So Ronnie the butcher says. Rick apparently pulled a weapon on you—made threats, you had no choice.” There’s practically disbelief hanging on every syllable.

Austin shrugs again, flexing his sore fingers against the ice pack, “Well, if that’s what Ronnie said.”

Greg licks his lips, glancing over his shoulder as the door opens up, another officer with paperwork to detail the statement Austin gave. He nods his head, knowing he’ll have to let him go soon, despite the sparring conversation.

“Beautiful, really, it is. I wish I had that kind of pull over for someone. You're a lucky man.”

Austin feels something ugly dig under his skin at the sentiment because he knows it’s not a compliment by any means. He refuses to give Greg the satisfaction that he obviously craves but a few thoughts do worm their way in the back of Austin’s mind: did you come back to Charming because of him? Because you knew what he’d do the moment Austin learned about Rick threatening you? Because you felt safe? Wanted? Loved here? Does any of that really matter since you’re back? Austin may feel slightly manipulated given the situation but…even if you only came back for this very reason, you’re still here, aren’t you?

Somehow, that’s all Austin cares about.

“You done?” Austin asks, a little steel to his voice.

Greg smiles and nods lightly, Austin getting up from the table and leaving the ice pack behind.

--

Austin leans against the back of your couch, watching the you pace for a few moments. He’s not trying to pressure you into talking or anything, he’s practically got the CliffsNotes of what’s happening anyways. In general, he’d just like to touch base with you because it’s been a week since Austin’s made threats at Rick and nothing has really happened (other than that lovely conversation with Thornson, time he’ll never get back, but he supposes that’s his fault for throwing a punch at a federal agent).

Austin suspects anything else is only a matter of time. Rick doesn’t seem like the type to respond to warnings well or go away quietly.

“I’m confused, what else did you want me to do?”

You stop pacing, looking up at Austin with an almost startled expression as you’re drawn out of your thoughts. You’re in a pair of blue jeans and a nice button-down sheer blouse—so different than the scrubs you usually wear but just as beautiful.

“I didn’t want you to do anything.”

Austin narrows his eyes, “Right, really?”

You give him a look as you slowly cross your arms over your chest. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He lets out a slow breath, leaning up from the couch. He doesn’t want to argue with you at any rate and maybe he is letting the conversation with Thornson get to him, but the longer Austin thinks about it, the more it starts to make sense.

Austin rubs the back of his neck, “I think you know exactly what it means.” He raises his eyebrows, taking a long look at you, someone he’s always known like the back of his hand and yet feels so distant to him within this conversation.

“Did you come here because you knew what I’d do to Rick?”

Your mouth opens and closes, “Know…what’d you do?” You scoff, “You—you haven’t done anything.” And there’s the slightest hesitancy in saying that, like there might be something you don’t know.

Austin shakes his head, confirming with a single, “No,” Then, “I haven’t. But push comes to shove, you know I would.”

It doesn’t take much for Austin to figure out how you feel, you practically wear all of your emotions directly on your face. And okay, given this reaction, maybe that’s not why you came home but are you really going to act like that’s not some sort of benefit?

“I didn’t come back for you.” You state and it’s not supposed to sound cruel—that’s not who you are. Meanwhile, Austin on the other hand makes it his mission to dig underneath people’s skin, to read them and know them to understand how to hurt them.

“I didn’t even know if you’d still be here.” You sigh, taking a step towards where Austin is standing, “But if you’re asking if I came back to the last place I felt…put together? Safe? Then yes. That’s why I came back.”

Austin smiles ever so softly, picking his hand up to cup the side of your head. There seems to be a distinct moment where you close your eyes, a rush of relief, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding being released from your chest. “And none of that has to do with me?”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head but you don’t pull away, even when Austin slips one of your loose strands of hair around your ear. You turn your head to press a kiss to Austin’s palm, his other hand moving to bracket the other side of your face. His fingers eventually slip down to hold the sides of your neck, rubbing along the skin soothingly.

“Maybe just a little bit to do with you.” You smile.

Austin licks his lips, smirking, pressing your foreheads together and leaving them to rest for a few long moments. There’s a familiarity there that pulls him in, keeps him treading water, keeping them connected in such a way where it’s hard to tell where you end and Austin begins. He’s never been so much a part of someone and vice versa.

“Regardless of what happens,” Austin says after a moment, “I’m not gonna let anythin’ happen to you, okay?”

You swallow and nod, your noses grazing as he tips your chin.

And that kiss you share feels like home.

--

It’s a pretty regular night at the clubhouse, another party in half swing where everyone is either piss drunk or on their way to being it. Some other members are playing pool or taking shots directly off of women’s chests, some practically fucking croweaters on the commune couches. Austin is so used to seeing this shit that, at this point, it’s just another Thursday night.

Sam, one of his club leader’s right-hand men, leans against the bar with a boyish grin that deflects from all the terrible things he’s done. The blood Austin has seen in that long blonde hair, the way his hands close around another man’s throat, the bullets he’s fired, the knives he’s cut with. It’s so ironic because you’d never think any of that just by looking at him,

“You don’t want to get in on this?” He asks, motioning to the intoxicating chaos.

Austin takes a brief look around, lifting his beer and taking a sip. “Even if there were half naked women practically throwing themselves at me? Nah,” He pauses, “Just not in the mood tonight.”

Austin’s known Sam nearly his whole life—they grew up together, been through all possible scenarios of the term ‘thick and thin’. Sam sticks around because he knows Austin will take this crown someday, will lead this club, take the reins, or whatever the fuck all this means. He didn’t know his father, not really, only through all the observations and stories and photographs from others.

How is he supposed to figure that shit out?

He doesn’t want it, inherited club royalty or not. Austin would be more satisfied with running away, with taking you out of this fucking place, far away from Charming where no one knows either of you. Starting over like a brand-new book, writing their own chapters.

Even though he knows how unrealistic that is. Doesn’t mean he wants it any less.

“Is this about Y/N?” Sam asks, breaking his concentration.

Austin blinks, considering the question as he takes a long sip of beer. Isn’t it always? Sam can read him far too well and of course knows all about you, what you mean to him—what you’ll always mean to him. He was there when you both first met, when this whole thing started, when you both clutched onto one another tight and refused to let go.

You coming back has just thrown him through an impossible loop.

“No,” He straightens his shoulders, putting a wall up between him and Sam with a grin that masks his face, “Just can’t find anyone who sucks dick as well as you do.”

Sam snorts out a laugh and grabs a bottle from behind the bar to pour shots, “It’s the lips.” He teases.

Austin takes a shot with his friend when he pours it and then decides he’s gotta get out of there before he ends up spending the night with a faceless nobody and a wave of regrets. It’s funny how he hasn’t really thought like that in a while and that definitely has to do with your influence in being back.

He takes a step outside and breathes in the cool Californian air, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Austin lights a cigarette, taking a long drag that puffs like fog into the atmosphere—he and you have not decided anything about one another. But he knows you, you and him can pick up right where you left off.

It’s hard not to.

His burner cell starts buzzing in his pocket and there’s a half smile on his lips as he sees your number—case in point.

Austin barely gets through a greeting when you are choking out I need you. He has no idea what’s going on and part of him doesn’t want to ask but the sound of your voice causes a sheet of ice to cover the entire inside of his chest as he throws down the cigarette and walks quickly to his bike.

“What happened?”

You sniffle over the line and sigh out syllables that make Austin’s blood run cold, “Rick. Please, can you just—”

“I’m on my way.” Austin hangs up the call, starting his motorcycle and pulling out of the garage parking lot with barely a second thought.

--

Austin has no idea what’s going on, no clue what he’s walking into but he doesn’t care either (which he may or may not regret later). He didn’t have you elaborate over the phone, wanting to concentrate on getting here faster instead. He parks his bike and rushes off the thing, nearly knocking it over as he goes to the front door of your father’s home and knocks.

You throw open the door, half dressed—bra, underwear, a long sweater barely over top, face with tear tracks on them and—and a gun hanging loosely in your fingertips.

“Jesus Christ,” Austin mumbles, eyes wide and confused as he takes a look at you and slowly closes the front door, “What the fuck happened?”

Though…based off the way you are dressed and the time of night—Austin swallows down a bout of anger as heavy as a cinder block to take care of what’s right in front of him.

“I couldn't stop him.” You shake your head, your entire face pinching. Austin sighs and wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, drawing you into your chest. He squeezes you, his hand working firm circles along your spine, “He came in-in through my back door and just—”

Austin shakes his head, holding you even tighter against him, his jaw working as he puts two and two together. You must have been getting ready for bed or something close to it and Rick put the drop on you.

“Did he—”

A whimpered noise leaves your lips and you press your face further into Austin’s neck. His one hand comes up and laces his fingers through your hair, shushing you gently. He pulls back after a moment—you both need to get ahead of this disaster, whatever is awaiting him, Austin will take care of it.

“Where is he?” He asks, cupping your cheek. He removes a tear track with his thumb.

You sniffle, “The bedroom—”

A short breath leaves Austin’s lips, glancing down at the gun that’s still in your hand. It must be your father’s because you never have been interested in weapons before, not even for means of protection. Whatever happened, it must have been bad enough that you needed to defend yourself.

“Give me that.” Austin takes the gun from you, walking down the long hallway that leads to the bedroom.

Nothing really prepares him for what he sees—the bedroom is a mess, sheets disheveled and Austin really fucking tries to not picture you struggling on top of them to push Rick off. A chair is overturned, broken glass from picture frames falling off the nightstand, and Rick on the ground in the corner—his pants are undone and he’s got his shirt off.

He’s currently holding onto his gut to keep his insides from pouring out, panting, face a sheet white and sweaty. And then he makes eye contact with Austin, a struggled laugh leaving his lips like, you’ve got to be kidding me.

“Oh you stupid bitch.” Rick spits, referring to you, “You called him?”

Austin does his best to assess the situation, figuring out what’s best for you with all of this. He’s used to putting himself in the line of fire at this point, at burying himself so deep that there’s not a way out. He could give a shit about Rick surviving or not—there’s only one person that needs to end up on the other side.

You are kind and good and leading a decent life beyond all of this and if Austin has one goal? It’s to make sure none of this pain, blood, or filth, sticks to you.

You tug on Austin’s sleeve, yanking him back into the hallway and away from the scene, “I didn’t know what to do, I shot him, Austin.” You try to explain, your hands shaking so bad as you run them through your hair. Austin shakes his head, wanting to tell you that he doesn’t have to clarify anything, “I had to. What do I—what do I do? What do we do?”

Austin runs his hand along your shoulder, squeezing, glancing back in to Rick because…there’s really only one of two things you could do. And he’ll give you the other option just in case you want to entertain it.

“Okay, okay,” Austin soothes, getting you to breathe for a moment before he continues, “We call this in—you're not going to get charged, he is.” There’s a choked laugh from Rick—the only saving grace is that you have that restraining order in place. Austin takes a long look at you, cupping your one cheek. He waits until your eyes meet his, wanting to make sure you understand what he’s saying.

“They're gonna patch him up, he'll do a few years for assault. But then he's gonna be out—free to do this again.”

He barely gets the last word out before there’s a visceral reaction from you, a choking sob where you grab Austin’s leather jacket and dig your fingers into it, “No,” You snap out, nearly pushing him away despite the fact that Austin only pulls you closer, “No, he can't do this again, Austin. Please.”

Austin rests his lips along your forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he takes a steadying breath into his lungs. There’s only one thing to do then—because clearly, Rick is beyond reason or idle threats.

Not to mention that bullet wound in his side really complicates things. 

“Butler’s your solution?” Rick spits from the other room, making you hold onto Austin tighter.

“I can't do this.” You whisper against Austin’s neck, breath hot along his skin, “Please.”

If Austin was going to approach this with a cool head, all of that goes out the window when Rick opens his mouth again. The combination of you shaking against him, the heat of your body pressed along his own, the way your hands are pulling at his clothes in an attempt to ground yourself—and then Rick’s fucking mouth, spouting disgusting language towards you that he can’t accept in a levelheaded manner.

“You pathetic whore—”

Austin takes two long strides, aiming the gun right at Rick’s head and fires.

The blowback spatters blood all over the wallpaper in the bedroom and there’s a soft curl of smoke leaving the gun, metal hot to the touch. He can hear you yelling over the slight ringing in his ears. Austin lets out a sharp breath—this is not the first time he’s murdered someone in cold blood and it certainly won’t be the last.

At least this time it actually feels like it’s been paired with a purpose.

Austin stares at the blood for a long moment, watching it roll down the ugly wallpaper before backing up slowly. He puts the gun on the dresser and turns to where you are standing in the hallway, wide eyed like a deer in headlights, hands over your mouth.

Austin gently tugs you away, forces your sight off it and takes you back into the living room.

--

Austin takes a shallow breath and hands you a short glass of scotch, which you take with trembling fingers. You tip it back into your mouth quickly and almost choke on the swallow, coughing, but Austin figures you might need to take it like that. He motions to hold the glass out and when you do, he fills it up again.

You sniffle, shaking your head as you run a hand over your face. Austin knows how you’re feeling without you even needing to say anything. While this might have been the only choice, the right choice, you didn’t want Rick to meet an end like this. You continue to be a better person than him—Austin thinks he got exactly what he deserved.

And he regrets none of his actions here tonight, especially if this means you are safe.

Austin runs a hand along his jawline—it’s still dark out, if he’s going to clean this up, he needs to get started.

You glance up at him, wide eyes somehow a shade darker than he’s ever seen them. Austin tries to offer you the smallest of smiles, something comforting, even though it feels a bit strange on his face.

“I’ll take care of this.” He assures you.

You scoff out a choked noise— “What does that mean?”

Austin shakes his head, not giving you a verbal answer. Honestly, it’s better if you don’t know, just in case, so you can claim some kind of ignorance with all this. You seem to catch on within that moment, making a soft noise of discontent as you cover your face with both of your hands. There are so many things that Austin wants to say, to be able to tell you, but he doesn’t know where to start.

This nightmare is over though—it may not seem like it, but it is.

Austin turns to walk out of the kitchen and check your garage for supplies when he feels fingers wrap around his wrist. He stops, looking down at your hand, following it up your arm until he looks at you again. Austin watches you stand, taking a soft breath in, grounding yourself in the touch of his skin and your proximity.

This can’t be easy for you; Austin knows this is why you ran away from Charming in the first place—so you wouldn’t have to wonder what kind of terrible shit he was getting himself into with the club and Austin finding a way to apologize for it. Though, this ironically has nothing to do with the motorcycle club.

He moves his thumb to brush over the inside of your wrist, his high school sweetheart, the girl he’s loved since he was sixteen, his soulmate regardless of tragedy that most likely follows.

“Thank you,” You whisper and step into Austin’s space, “I love you.”

Austin hums softly and nods, leaning his head down to press your foreheads together. “I know.” He teases lightly and despite everything that’s happened, he can feel the hint of a smile on your lips as you kiss.

--

A week passes, and then two, and eventually Austin feels like he can draw oxygen into his lungs without looking over his shoulder. At this point, he knows how dispose of a body—an unfortunate byproduct of the work he does. The goal is to make it look like Rick’s just left, disappeared, with the threat of violating his restraining order, he decided it was best to fuck off out of Charming and you for good.

That should be a story that’s easily passible, since no one from Charming P.D. or that aggravating ATF agent have kicked down any doors demanding questioning of any sort.

Austin’s limited exposure about the whole thing, just him and you know, that way there can be no blowback on the club. Even then, Austin’s the only one who has details about the murder weapon (and where it is) and what truly happened to Rick (as in, where his body is buried). And it’s going to stay like that.

The man is exactly where he belongs.

Austin pauses in front of a freezer in the grocery store looking down at a set of steaks. He knows that it’s not exactly your favorite thing to eat but…he’s feeling weirdly celebratory and he can cook it in a way that you will enjoy it. Lots of pepper, garlic, onions—grilling it outside (maybe at his house instead of your father’s place), beer, mashed potatoes. You both can turn that into a good night, maybe even get back on a track that makes sense.

As long as you both avoid any more capital murder, should be just fine.

“Huh, never pictured you as a fillet kind of guy.”

Austin’s eyes roll back into his head as he turns to see Greg Thornson hovering nearby. Spoke too soon.

He doesn’t see any other agents milling around to make a grand arrest, or sirens and SWAT cars pulling up outside the grocery store windows. So he supposes that’s a bonus. And yet—

“Shouldn’t have to pound meat out for it to be tender.” He says wryly, dropping two steaks into his basket. Austin moves out and around Greg, who doesn’t even appear to be shopping—what, did he just track him down for a not-so-friendly chat?

Austin’s assuming that this isn’t an interrogation but Greg very much seems like the kind of agent that tries to catch you off guard and unaware. He’s probing just by being in his space, nonchalantly following him around the store, pretending to look at things he has no intention in buying.

“Putting a nice dinner together for Y/N?” Greg asks curiously, picking up a can of lima beans.

Austin sighs evenly, slowly making his way towards the front of the store. The quicker he cashes out, the faster he can leave this disaster behind. He glances over his shoulder at the indifferent question,

“Yeah—I know this might be a foreign concept to you, goin’ on dates.” Austin says with a smile to his face but it’s anything but kind. Greg’s eyes dart to Austin’s, fire burning along his irises, and then Austin adds a cushion to the blow – “Cause you know, you’re married to your work and all.”

Greg hums but his smile is all pinched, “I’m surprised Y/N’s even staying put.”

Austin moves to set his basket down near the conveyor belt, unpacking his groceries so that the cashier can ring him out. He offers a small smile at the girl, despite his annoyance with the ATF agent behind him. He slips his wallet out of his back pocket, glancing at Greg as he comes up into his line of vision,

“She’s a runner. Isn’t that why Y/N found herself in Chicago in the first place? Wanted to get out—find things this little pissant town couldn’t offer? Bigger dreams than what you’ve got here, Butler. Smart, beautiful women like Y/N? They get bored. They want more.”

Austin swallows, his hand that’s out of Greg’s line of sight is clenching his fingers into a fist. He refuses to give away that Greg’s words are hitting a particularly raw nerve. You did run away—because that’s what you do. When something gets too hard or real or intense, you make a run for it, that last time landing you in Chicago. And yeah, you ended up with a medical degree to show for it, but you also trailed back to Charming with a psycho ex.

He watches the cashier scan in his items, the muscle in Austin’s working. Despite the fact that Y/N’s seemingly tied to this place for the foreseeable future, Greg unfortunately has a point. And that digs under his skin more than anything else.

Austin pays the cashier and picks up his grocery bag, “Why don’t you let me worry about Y/N, yeah?” He throws back at Greg, moving to leave the store. He then pauses, a sudden thought occurring to him as he turns to look back at the ATF agent.

Greg’s decided to buy a pack of chips near the checkout aisle, pulling out a few ones from his wallet. 

“Hey,” Austin says, gaining Greg’s attention. The smile he gives him is slow and patient, somehow innocent on the edges like he’s about to talk about the weather. “You ever hear from Rick?”

It takes a moment for the question to settle on Greg’s face, the light somehow disappearing from his eyes, the silent conversation passing between the two men as Greg realizes Austin is asking this question for a very specific, deadly reason.

Austin licks his lips, shrugging his one shoulder, his gaze hardening, “Dangerous being a Fed.”

He slowly backs up, getting ready to turn out of the grocery store. He’s delivered more direct threats before but he is in public, and the look on Greg’s face still registers the same. Realization masking fear—makes it completely worth it. Austin clutches the grocery bag in his hand and puts his sunglasses on as he leaves the store to walk back to his truck.

They understand one another now.

--

Austin looks at you over his shoulder as he cooks dinner in the backyard of his home, in comfortable clothes that look a lot like jeans and a t-shirt, minus the leather cut. You’re leaning against the patio door, in a yellow sundress, watching Austin with a soft, fond expression, sipping on your beer.

Austin’s struck with the sudden thought that it could always be like this—warm, and safe, and comfortable, cooking dinner with beers and pretending his business doesn’t get him involved with unsavory people or situations.

Sometimes it feels like they can survive in that version of themselves, even though it’s all a lie.

You move into the yard and set your beer down, pressing into Austin’s side as he looks at the grill.

“You’re overcooking the steak.”

Austin crinkles his nose, peeking under the grill hood just a little, “No I’m not.” He opens it up all the way and while he doesn’t cook steak very often, they look perfectly fine. You use that opportunity to reach for the tongs and Austin playfully taps your wrist,

“I got it, they’re fine.”

“Oh you know how to handle meat, do you?” You tease, your hand resting on Austin’s waist instead.

Austin bites down on his lower lip as he grins, cupping your cheek to lean down and kiss you. “Class act, Y/N.” He pulls back after a moment, closing the grill lid after flipping the steaks once.

He moves to grab his own beer, taking a long sip. Despite everything you’ve been through, you seem to be doing okay. You don’t really bring up Rick at all and Austin doesn’t ask—maybe that’s a good thing, finally moving past that chapter in your life.

And even though Greg’s commentary in the grocery store rattled him a little bit, it does feel like you’re on solid ground now. That you’re not going anywhere—that they’re a team, no matter what might come their way.

Austin lets out a soft sigh, taking a step towards you. He rests his hand on your hip, angling you towards his body so he can look down at you. He waits until that gaze falls upon his own,

“No more running.”

You nod softly and press yourself on your toes to kiss the corner of Austin’s mouth, “No more running,” You agree. Austin leans down to press their foreheads together. “I’m here.”

And for better, or for worse, Austin believes you.

[aniesvision]

wanna bet? (chris sturniolo x f! reader)

part 3!

click to read part 1 and part 2

warnings: enemies to lovers trope!, teasing, suggestive, smut!, being a bit possessive over here (just a lil bit tho), p in v, no protection (don't do this), a bit of praising, happy ending!

a/n: wanna bet? is now over :( it was fun to write it, i wanna do more long fics. im also not sure if some parts made sense but i tried. friendly reminder that english is not my first language!

synopsis: matt and nick are back! and now the bet thing is (almost) over, in the end it turned out way different than they expected.

🪻🪻🪻

He rolls his eyes and I giggle. We took our baths, almost innocently. Nothing else happened, and we even talked like normal people do. We got out of the bathroom, got dressed and went upstairs to the living room, where Nick and Matt were, sitting on the couch. They looked at each other suspiciously and then back at us.

-So you're all alive...? —Nick asks, confused to see that we both arrived together, from Chris's room, with wet hair.

-Yes, Nick, we're alive. —Chris replies, sounding annoyed.

-Wait, since when are you guys here? —I ask, remembering the bet.

Maybe I won, even if it doesn't matter anymore.

-About forty minutes, I think. —Matt replies, suspicious.

I look at Chris, who covers his face with his hands and lets out a deep sigh.

- I love you guys so much. —I say to Matt and Nick while laughing at Chris's reaction.

-You guys made me win a bet and now he has to do everything I want for a week. —I explain quickly, seeing Chris look at me a little stressed.

-I thought we agreed that this bet was no longer worth it.

-You thought you had won and I accepted your request. And now you'll have to accept mine. —I look at him intently, trying to send him a message that only he would understand by the way I looked at him.

He looks at me slightly confused, but didn't say a word, knowing that we'd discuss it later.

-Can someone explain? —Nick asks, confused and wanting to know what was going on.

Matt also looked at us confused, but not so interested in knowing like Nick was.

-We made a bet, if he won I would owe him one, if I won he would do everything I wanted for a week. Then we thought he had won, he already made the request he wanted and I accepted it, now we saw that I was the one who won for a short time, so thank you very much.

Chris rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, watching me intently with an expression that could almost confuse me with anger if I didn't know exactly what he was doing. I walk a few steps to the side, getting closer to Chris and whispering in his ear.

-You'll have to make me cum at least twice every day for the entire week.

He holds his smile, biting his cheek and locking his jaw, taking his eyes off me and walking to the couch, sitting in the middle of the brothers. Without saying anything, I walk to the kitchen, taking a can of pepsi that the boys brought and sit down next to Nick, who took turns looking between me and Chris, still not understanding much.

-You're not telling me what happened while we were gone? —Nick looks straight at me, hoping I'd tell him all the details, but this time I couldn't say anything.

It would be better and funnier to keep it a secret for now, just as I agreed with Chris.

I open the can, taking a few sips and looking at my friend with a smile.

-Nothing happened, we just made a bet and fought as usual. And I won, so I'm going to make sure this is a very long week for Chris.

I look at Chris with a sarcastic smile, who just looks at me without reaction and turns his gaze to Matt, bringing up some random subject. I knew he was probably making a giant effort not to look suspicious and I was holding myself back from laughing.

-You guys are weird. —Nick says, rolling his eyes and ignoring the situation. I felt relieved that he didn't insist on knowing more, not knowing if I was going to be able to keep this character under pressure for long.

I pick up my phone and start to mindlessly navigate through social media, distracting myself and talking from time to time with Nick. The hours went by and it was already super late.

-I think I'll go to bed, you coming? —Nick asks.

The two of us always shared his bed when I slept at their house. I was supposed to leave today, but I ended up staying late without even realizing it and didn't want to drive home alone.

-I'll go later.—I give him a smile and he smiles back, walking up the stairs to his room.

Matt had already locked himself in his room a few minutes ago, so once again it was just me and Chris in the living room. He looks at me intently, as if afraid to say something. I get up from the couch, glancing at him before going to the kitchen and throwing the empty pepsi can in the trash. Without saying anything, Chris followed me and turned my body so that I could look at him. Our gazes met and he took turns between my eyes and my lips before pulling me in for a long and heated kiss.

-My room. —He says, guiding me down the stairs again by the hand and locking the door as soon as we pass through it.

He kisses me again, already running his hands over my body until he takes off my shirt and throws it on the floor once again.

Soon enough our clothes were back to the floor and he was on top of me, aligning his dick with my entrance and thrusting all of him at once, making sure to cover my mouth with his hand to prevent me from moaning loudly as he starts to move faster and deeper.

-Fuck, you're so hot, I'm glad you're all mine now. —He whispers in my ear.

I close my eyes and bite my lips to prevent myself from moaning too loud, letting out a few hisses from time to time. Chris uses his hand that previously covered my mouth to trace circles on my clit, making me grip his hair and arch my body, begging for more.

-Chris, fuck, don't stop, please. —I plead, between moans, seeing him smile and increase the speed even more.

I left scratches that would definitely make red marks on his body, but I didn't care about it now, neither did he.

Chris was impressively good, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was so good that he made all the other guys I had sex with look pathetic.

-You look so beautiful moaning my name and begging me to fuck you. Even prettier now that you're all mine.

His words triggered my thrid orgasm of the night, his name escaping my lips like a mantra as he looked at me like a starved man looks at a meal.

-Good girl. —He smirks.

His own orgasm followed right after, a whine leaving my lips as I feel him shooting his load inside me and pulling away to collapse on the bed beside me.

After we caught our breaths, I let out a giggle, making Chris look at me confused, but with a tiny smile.

-Maybe it doesn't take much for me to stop hating you after all, you just gotta fuck me like that more times.

I shrug, making him smile and pull me in for a kiss. We put our clothes back on and went back to bed.

-Stay here tonight. —He asks, looking at me intently, his eyes showing me that he meant it.

-Nick's gonna be suspicious if I don't come up. But don't worry too much, we'll have plenty of time to sleep together along the week.

I press a quick peck on his lips and leave his room, walking up the stairs with a smile on my face.

Before I could open Nick's door, my phone vibrates with a new notification and I unlock it to read.

"gn pretty girl, come kiss me goodbye before u leave tomorrow"

I smile even more, typing a reply.

"pack some stuff, ur leaving w me tomorrow, I'll make an excuse about the bet we made to matt and nick so they don't find it too weird, ur staying with me all week pretty boy"

I open Nick's door, seeing him lying in bed scrolling through with his phone and he soon breaks into a smile when he sees me. We talked for a few minutes until we fell asleep.

When I woke up the next day, I warned Matt and Nick about the bet me and Chris made and said that he would come back with me 'cause he needed to do everything I asked during the week. They laughed, thinking it would be torture for Chris to stay with me for so long.

Back to my place, along the week, Chris treated me like a princess all the time, it almost felt like we were a couple. The dynamic between us changed so much so fast, but it was way better like this. We got to know each other without all the fights and arguments, and I actually started to like him. He showed me parts of him I had no idea that even existed, and how he was making me feel, the way he now talked to me and all the cute things he'd do or say was something unexpected by me.

He also kept his promise to make me cum twice a day, some days even exceeding that amount. Surprisingly, this was the best week I've had in a long time, and it was with him.

tags 💕

@fratbrochrisgf @aaliyahsturniolo1 @sturnsvlg @edgemaster696 @user9383738392 @bigbeefybitch @riowritesitall

[fuzzymakercloudduck]

Paige Bueckers x reader

Fluff! Comfort!

I’m sad, wrote this out of the fact I needed it

This is so self indulgent btw

Dusk till Dawn

I have come very far in my career for a twenty two year old, I knew that, but there is a twinkling feeling that chases me for so long, a feeling of failure as if I will never be good enough, it’s exhausting having to fight your brain in a endless battle day to day.

Through the years it got easier, I have found friends that were there for me, my family, my job which I love, and then Paige who has become my sunlight. But sometimes the things I went through, the mental stress I was once caged in comes backs crumbling the steps I took so far.

And it was exactly what was happening right now, an overwhelming takeover of anxiety, I have been overworking myself lately, the fear that I will be a failure knocking down my walls, trying to drive properly as tears blur my vision was not a easy task when I literally couldn’t even breath.

For some miracle I get to the building safely, but I just couldn’t push myself to even get my belt off, I sit in the car and just fall apart, remembering everything, the times in my teenage years I wished I were gone for good, and I know it wasn’t right but I got myself wondering if I done enough to deserve to have lived, if I suffered enough to deserve to have happiness, to deserve Paige, to deserve anything good that I got.

I dry my tears and try to look put together as I bring myself up to Paige’s dorm, hoping the other girls weren’t there so they wouldn’t see me in this state, I just needed to be in my girlfriends arms.

Thankfully once I open the door, the living room was empty so I was able to just go straight to Paige’s room.

Once I standing in front of her door I take a deep breath before knocking.

“Baby, it’s me” I noticed my voice being raspy because of the meltdown I had so I try to cough discreetly as I hear Paige opening the door.

“What happened?” Her face is of immediate concern as she look my face up and down, I was stupid to think I could just pretend everything was fine, at least to the one who knew me the most, and that realization instantly made me have new found tears streaming down my face as I let out a sob, the feeling of stupidity filled my whole body as I hide my face in my hands, right away I felt Paige’s arms around me pulling me in as she closes the door behind my back, her smell sinking me in.

“shh, it’s okay, I’m right here” I feel her guiding me to her bed as she sit us both down, her words made me melt into her embrace then my tears came for real, it felt like hours of simply crying and sobbing as Paige’s hand went up and down my back soothing me down, she kept silence, knowing me well enough to know I need to formulate my feelings before anything else.

“I’m right here for you baby, d’ya wanna talk about it?” her voice was low as she kissed the side of my head. I take a deep breath as I hold tight onto her before saying anything.

“I just felt so overwhelmed lately, with work and within myself really” I let out a sob before continuing, “it makes me so anxious that those feelings I felt when I was in the deepest stage of my depression will just come knocking down everything I’ve done, all the way I crossed, I’m just scared” I finish and feel her arms falling from around me to now her hands holding mine as she look in my eyes.

“You have no idea of how strong you are, and I understand is so scary to know you ever felt that way, but the difference is that you were dealing with all that all by yourself, you don’t have to do it anymore, whenever you feel like you lost just remember I am right here with you, as well as so other people that love you, you’re not alone anymore, and you’ve come so more far than you even realize.” Paige whips the tears that spill out of my eyes as second nature and then pull me into her chest laying both of us down, suddenly all the unsafely mindset evaporate, being drowned out by the comfort of the person that loves me.

“And I need you to promise me that you will always talk with me when you feel like this, ok?” She look in my eyes as she say this, Paige was one of the only people that I shared my past history with mental health medicine and the darkest side of my depression. “Doesn’t matter where or when, the moment you need it I am right here, you do not need to be strong alone, I love you”

“I love you Paige” my eyes were so heavy because of the tears,I knew this would be a bigger conversation in the morning but for now I really needed to drift in sleep in her arms, my safe space, my home. “Thank you for just being you” she held my tightly as she grabbed the blankets to throw over us once she realized my eyes closed.

“I’m here from dusk till dawn” I feel a kiss pressed to my forehead right before I stumble in sleep.

*NOT PROOFREAD, ALSO ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO DO NOT COME FOR ME

[mildlyromanticperv]

What did you expect of me?

Karina x MReader. Fluff. Enemies to lovers.

-For christ sake, what a bitch! -Your anger boiling in your heart and your brain tells you, no, yells you to go to your managers office and demand a fair treatment, it's just ourageous that among all the workers in the office you have to stay late every single day of the week to cover the "last project of the quarter".

No matter what you do, how hard you work, how many late nights and how many cups of coffee you drink at a day, it just feels like a prison in here, the office that hired you as the main developer for the website on their new brand "Supernova."

Plus, who names a project "Supernova"? Sounds like with just a simple code here and there you'd make the market implode and then explode in money... If your manager Karina expects for that to happen she's either naively hopeful or a total delusional.

-You, come to my office. -Her cold words stabs your brain, after a whole week hearing her low pitch condescending dictatorial voice you can't bear to listen to it one more time, but you need this job like, DESPERATELY need this job, so there's no talk back to the boss.

-Yes boss?

-We're behind on the project, have you been slacking off again? -Her cold judgemental gaze falls upon your black sacked eyes showing off the immense exhaustion you have tu put up with during the project.

-Look boss, I'm doing my best, I haven't slept well these past few days but I assure you I will have everything ready by next month even if the useless of my coworkers don't do shit. -Your tongye got the best of you and runs wild. -I just need to have a good night sleep, can you let me out early today?

-No, we are all hands on deck and you know that. -She sighs and rubs her forehead in a clear show of stress and disappointment. -Just go back to work and don't screw anything up.

Any person with enough patience would put up with that shit, but not you, not now at least. The condescending tone and the past sleep deprived week has been just too much for you, clearly you're not thinking straight anymore, or perhaps you're thinking clearer...?

-Fuck this.

-Excuse me? -She responds with equal or perhaps even higher anger.

-Fuck this Karina, I'm not doing any more shit today and I'm tired to put up with your fucking demands. Fire me if you want I'm going home to sleep. -You really shuld've thought that better, but what is done is done, you start to pick up your stuff and bracing yourself for the shouting match.

-You cross that door and you're suspended, one week half pay. -Surprisingly enough instead of picking up a fight and shouting her vocal cords off as she usually does, she just stares straight into your eyes with a gaze so cold it could freeze hell itself. -You're not the only developer in our payroll, if I wanted I could fire your sorry ass right now and make it so you never work as a developer never again in your life, so consider this a favour.

Breathe.

Don't let that tone of hers get into your core.

Just, breathe.

-Fuck you. -It's the only thing you get to say before actually leaving.

-One week suspension no pay, and don't you dare call me or text me asking to forgive you. Jackass.

With the anger oozing through your pores you just slam the door and head out. You start your car and praying you don't crash you go from 0 to 100 in just a couple of seconds screeching the tires of your car.

-Please god, take care of him... -She sighs under her breath.

But wait... What?

Take care of him?

During that next week there was absolutely no news from you on the office, things started to be more... tense. You've received a ton of messages from your coworkers basically begging him to come back, but the answer is defenitive: No.

However things don't ever go your way.

*Bzz* *Bzz* *Bzz*

-Hey, we need to talk, come to the office. -Again, that swee... No. Annyoing voice again.

-I'm suspended. -Your answer comes as soon as the thought hits your brain.

A sigh from the other line and a faint whisper.

-This man is going to be the death of me some day. -But then the usual tone returns. -Look, I made a rash decision and we need your intel, you're the one that knows the way around our software.

-I thought you had several developers in your payroll, I bet they can help. -You say sipping through the wine you bought for that dinner for one you've been pushing away so much due to the job.

-I'm asking nicely, and around here you know that's as rare as an unicorn. Just come here tomorrow and finish the project, we're ahead.

-Ahead? What do you mean ahead? You said we we're behind last week! -Your voice comes harsher and harsher, even though your chest is telling you not to.

Not to her.

-I lied to try and make things faster, okay? Just come and we can talk like professionals. -She couldn't come to acknowledge the fact that she just wanted to see you. She couldn't admit that she misses your cologne, your three day beard and your stoic gaze when you're so deep in thought. -I'll send you the advances that have been made.

Right away she hangs up the phone, relieved she didn't break down into yelling or insults. Right away an email arrives on your computer with such incredibly... small advances looks like you carried the entire project all by yourself.

-Why am I not surprised? -You sigh under your breath as you pause the movie you were watching and read what has been done, immediately you start chaning... well, almost everything.

Next day...

You should at least turn off the car, for real, have you seen how expensive the gas is around these days?

"Just go, I avoid her any longer... I- I don't want to..." -It's the only thought that crosses your mind, the thought of seeing her piercing eyes again, the feeling of her gaze piercing and burning through your very soul, the loud beating of your heart as you look at her lips...

Her lips...

If only she wasn't your boss, right?

-So, I checked the non existent advances the useless guys did, and...

-How you've been? Have you slept well? -For some reason her tone wasn't condescending anymore, the worry present on her voice...

Could it be?

-Yes, finally in months I've been sleeping great... -Her eyes, oh. my. god... Her eyes... -Anyways, I have everything finished now, you can present it to corporate. -You say trying to avoid her eyes as you speak sarcastically and look at your watch.

-Big date coming or something? -She asks, doing an awesome job yo hide the jealousy.

-Just wondering how long this will take. -She sighs again, feeling the anger and stress of your cold demeanor.

-Your week of suspension ends today and the weekind is off by legal, so you can go now and I'll see you on monday.

-Sure.

After that you just go back to your usual routine, the weekend goes great and the next week of work comes, with so much less stress that even the busiest day feels like a walk through the park. The time off work led you to watch so much shows, and so much free time, time spent in imagining your life outside of work with that person that would make your days so much happier.

Thinking of love.

What a great future you could have, perhaps you could get married and have kids, after all that's your dream.

In a year you'd ascendo in your job, start earning more, you'd start dating to finally get the chance to let you feel that love you so desperately look for, In a year your boss wouldn't be your boss and perhaps you could date her, in a year you'd buy your first...

Your boss? Date... your boss?

Why would you think that? She's a bitch.

"But she's a gorgeous bitch." You thought, perhaps... only perhaps... You wanted that, you liked your boss...

*Bzz* *Bzz* *Bzz*

Your phone rings with a text from your boss.

-Corporate loved the project, we were given monday to celebrate, so I'll be expecting you monday 7:00 A.M. sharp for the party.

-Got it boss. And hey, sorry for snapping out last week. -Perhaps this could be a beginning, you know you should keep things professional, you keep telling yourself to stop but flesh is weak.

-Yeah, just don't be late. -Her response cold as always after 5 minutes of writing and deleting, she's also in the midst of an inner debate, whether let herself feel what she wants to feel for you or just don't say anything.

But why? Why shouldn't you try? Because she's your boss? There's plenty of people that date with their boss and make it work, you shouldn't keep ahold of the prospect of your happiness just because people might judge, that's the whole point, living for yourself and be happy yourself. Isn't it?

That very Monday at 7:00 A.M. you show yourself at work wearing a new white T-shirt and some loose jeans, your usual wrist watch and a new cologne you bought just for your boss, nothing else is going to stop you.

-Hey, boss. -You came to talk to her made a nrevous wreck not really knowing what to do to get her attention.

-Oh, here he is, the brain behind it all. -She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to present you to some corporate officers like if you were a prize, like you never shouted before... Like you two were friends... Being so close to her made your every sense enter overdrive and your nostrils welcomed her particular scent, that magnificent smell of lavender and strawberries sent your head over the moon.

The rest of the party went completely normal, talking here, showing off there... Taking glances at your boss every once in a while as well.

Wait, did she looked at you as well?

Was she blushing?

-Hey boss can I talk to you for a sec? -You got closer and whispered into her ear, not long after she pointed you to the balcony where you usually go to have your lunch.

-Make it quick.

-Look boss, there's no easy way for me to say this, but I think I should quit... I... I have feelings for you.

-Is that so? -Her cold demeanor makes you back off for a second, unable to tell the truth in her eyes you stutter.

-I know, I know that I was rude last week and I'm being just way too out of line. -Her eyes shine with a glint never seen before, in her mind the thoughts are divided whether she should speak from her heart, as Karina. Or speak from her brain as Ms. Jimin, regional Manager of your branch.

-You know you're my worker, and this is incredibly inappropriate.

-Don't you feel the same for me? I saw you looking for my eyes before.

-Don't be ridiculous, I'm your boss. -Despite the way she feels work ethics comes first, how can a manager could let a worker speak to her that way?

-I don't care. -It's the last thing you said before leaning forward and placing your hand against her cheek, caressing her soft skin and pressing your lips over hers.

For a second all that exists is you and her, together in a tight embrace holding her waist desperately thinking that if you'd ever let go of her she'd just vanish in the thin air. She responds to your advances letting your body invade her personal space, for mere seconds that feel like an eternity all that she can feel is your hands gripping her blouse until she lets go of any ties and wrap her arms around your neck, tipping into her toe-tips to match as much as she can your height.

-We... We can't... I'm your boss... -Her voice comes out cracking, breathing unsteady due to the raw passion she just felt a while ago. -It's inappropriate.

-I don't care, I'll quit if needed, I just care that I want you.

-I want you too. -She rests her head on your shoulder nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck.

You then caress her soft hair, taking a deep breath of her unique scent that send jolts of electricity along your brain.

-So what now, boss? -This time the words come out strong, lovingly, softly.

-Now we talk to HR, couples need to fill paperwork. -She pulls back and looks into your eyes again. -You always make me do more and more paperwork... -She then whispers in your ear. -Sweetie.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Lie to Me

*Dick Grayson (Nightwing) x Reader

*Summary: Reader can't ignore her boyfriend's weird behavior anymore. What she can do is delude herself into thinking everything is okay and still believe his lies.

*Warnings: Swearing, drinking, inferred cheating (no actual cheating), light angst. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: So I listened to Lie to Me by Ne-Yo a lot while writing this. A bit of a life update here: I'm about to start my last year of law school! It's crazy to think I started writing fanfics when I was just about to start high school and now here I am. Anyways, hope you guys like this one!

Tip Jar

**********

There was something weird going on with your boyfriend. Sure, there had been his odd little quirks when you’d visited him before - like rushing to pick up only one bundle of clothes on the floor when you came in - but things really seemed to ramp up when you moved in with him. There were times when the two of you would be relaxing before bed, when he’d get a phone call and then be rushing out the door with a half-baked excuse. There would be times when you’d wake up to him leaving in the middle of the night, or coming back right before your alarm was supposed to go off for work. Maybe it was weird, but he was a cop, right? Maybe there were just emergencies he was needed for, maybe there were things he couldn’t talk about with you.

Maybe you were a fool.

You couldn’t exactly pin when the insecurity started really hitting you, but maybe it was the fact that you lived with him that made it really noticeable. When you brought it up to your friends, you got those knowing little pitying looks that you knew what they meant, but they didn’t want to say it out loud. The most you would get out of your friends was ‘talk to him’, but how could you talk to him when you were convinced you were making a big deal out of nothing?

The two of you were cuddled on the couch, watching a movie to round out a long awaited date night. You were enjoying the proximity, work really taking you through the wringer for the past week and you just needed this. About halfway through the movie, you could feel the vibrations from Dick’s phone ringing. He took a glance at the screen before sending it to voicemail. You looked up at him, but he just shook his head. “It’s not important.”

But apparently it was, because whoever it was called him three more times before he finally got up to answer the phone. That took you back a bit, because he normally was fine taking work calls in front of you. When he had been gone for a few minutes, you paused the movie and got up to go check on him. The door to your bedroom was cracked open, and you could hear Dick’s whispers to the person on the other side of the call. “Listen, I can’t go. I promised her I’d spend the night with her.”

You didn’t want to interrupt, so you just sat there, waiting for him. You felt a little weird listening in, but there was something in you telling you to stay. 

“Babs, you know I normally would, but-” Dick’s sentence was cut off, but after a few seconds he spoke again. “Alright, fine, I’ll be there. I’ll just make something up again.”

You could hear Dick’s groan of frustration, and that snapped you out of it before you could spiral. You made your way back to your spot on the couch, eyes unfocused on the movie in front of you. Dick’s footsteps were your cue to look up, trying to hide any signs of your heartache. “So what was that?”

“I’m sorry, baby, they just made an arrest for a case I’m on,” Dick apologized, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. It just broke you even more knowing how easily the lies spilled from his lips, not even needing time to think about it.

“They can’t handle it?” You slipped up, unable to hide your attitude for the second. You grimaced, realizing you should have waited until he was gone and you had room to process everything on your own. Instead, Dick was now moving in front of you, kneeling so he could be face-level with you. The concern was so quickly painted on his face that you couldn’t help but feel that little tug in you. You were the reason he was worried. You needed to fix it.

“I’m really sorry, I tried to get out of it but they really need me to come in.” You looked away from his intense gaze, trying to will away the tears that were threatening to build up. “Baby, c’mon, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. You should go before you get in trouble,” you told him in a small voice.

“Please look at me?” Dick practically pleaded, placing his hand on your knee. You forced yourself to meet his blue eyes, trying to soothe his worry. The sooner he was out of the apartment, the sooner you could let yourself fall apart.

“Sorry, it’s just been a while since we’ve been able to hang out and I was looking forward to it,” you told him, placing your hand over his. “I know your job’s important, you should get going.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” As soon as Dick was satisfied that you were okay, he went about grabbing his things for work. When the front door closed behind him, you let out a deep sigh. You knew who Barbara was, and you’d already gone through your fit of insecurity about her when you and Dick first got together. You knew her and Dick had been an item for a while before the two of you had met, and things ended when he moved to Blüdhaven.

Dick had been so good at soothing your worries, always letting you know if she was going to be at the same events as him (she normally was) or what they were chatting about since they were still friends. You weren’t personally friends with her, but when you finally met her, she had really eased all your worries. She just seemed like such a good person, and she immediately put you at ease. But now you couldn’t help but think it was all for show. 

It wasn’t unusual for Barbara to randomly call Dick, but why was she so insistent that he go to her right now? What did Dick mean by make something up again? Was every work emergency a lie? Your heart felt heavy in your chest, but you couldn’t find it in you to move or find something to distract yourself with. You laid on your side, the movie still playing on the television in front of you, but you didn’t care about it anymore. Eventually the movie ended, but you didn’t care enough to change it to something else. The recommended titles screen played trailers for movies you didn’t care about, but you didn’t need the apartment to be completely silent, so you didn’t bother to turn it off. 

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up the next morning with Dick’s arm around your waist, his deep breaths fanning over the back of your neck. He must have carried you back to the bed whenever he got back, and you felt the warmth creeping into your cheeks at his thoughtfulness. If you woke him up, you’d have to ask questions about what time he got in last night. Technically, all you had right now were suspicions. You could ignore them, turn a blind eye to his nights gone and enjoy when he was here, or you could confront him, and risk blowing up everything you’d come to love. If he continued lying to you, you could pretend you didn’t know. You felt his arm tighten around you, and you made your decision. You closed your eyes, trying to will yourself back to sleep. You would enjoy this while you had it, ignore what you knew. 

**********

It was nice to pretend nothing was wrong. Dick was still the nearly perfect boyfriend he had always been - bringing you little surprises after a rough day at work, showing you plenty of affection, never afraid to shower you with words of affirmation - and now you chose not to question the not-so-perfect parts. There was still the little ache when Dick would suddenly announce he was needed at work, but you just gave him a soft smile and a kiss on his way out the door, telling him to get home safely.

Things had gone like that for a couple months before a true challenge to your delusion appeared. Dick came home from work, letting you know that the two of you were invited to Bruce’s for (yet another) Wayne Foundation event. You had to admit that you were excited, it had been a while since you had seen everyone, and Dick’s brothers were just chaotic enough to keep you entertained for the whole night. Your excitement dipped a little when Dick told you Barbara would also be there. It was easy to pretend they didn’t have anything going on when she lived in a different city, but with the two of them in the same room, seeing the two of them together, you didn’t know just how long you’d be able to hold onto your delusion.

The first night you were there was nice. It was just you and the various Wayne children (though some of them weren’t necessarily children anymore), everyone joking around and just enjoying being in the same house. When you went to call it a night, tired from traveling and the general chaos of the Wayne household, Dick followed you up. 

“I forgot how wild you all are,” you joked, changing into your pajamas, which was just one of Dick’s shirts and a pair of shorts.

“Yeah, you know how it gets when all of us are together,” Dick laughed. “I’m glad you’re having fun, you’ve been kind of off for a while.”

That made you pause. You thought you’d been doing a good job at hiding what you knew, but maybe that was just more of your own delusions. “What?”

“Yeah, you’ve just been a bit off, but I figured you’d tell me when you’re ready,” Dick explained, taking you in his arms. “I’m here for you, you know. I’m not gonna make you tell me what’s wrong, but I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk about it.”

Your breath hitched at his reassurances, and you were sure that any other time it would have made you melt and just tell him what’s on your mind. But you couldn’t exactly share what was wrong when he was at the center of it. Without him confirming it, it didn’t have to be true, and you could pretend just a little longer. You stayed quiet, needing that peace for now.

Later that night, when Dick moved you out of his arms when he was sure you were asleep, you woke up the slightest bit. You didn’t say anything, and you didn’t say anything when you felt him leave the bed, or when you heard the door close behind him. It wasn’t until he’d been gone for a good while that you accepted he wasn’t going to come back until the early hours of the morning. When the tears built up, you didn’t stop them from falling, soaking the pillowcase beside you. 

You didn’t question where he’d gone when you woke up the next morning to him climbing back into bed. You didn’t move when he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. But of course he noticed you were awake, and of course he couldn’t just stay quiet like you had. “Baby, it’s early. C’mon, let’s go back to sleep.”

Going through the motions was easy, but the others noticed something was off about you. You could tell it in the way they treated you like you were one wrong move from breaking, and they weren’t technically wrong. The only ones not handling you with caution were Damian and Jason, but they normally weren’t ones to handle you with too much care anyways. Luckily, there wasn’t much time to linger around the heavy weight in your heart with the time for the gala quickly approaching.

“Alright, what gives?” Jason asked, holding out a champagne glass to you. You jumped a little, startled out of your thoughts as you looked at Dick and Barbara across the room, laughing with each other.

“What?”

“You’re acting weird, what’s going on.” Jason didn’t give you any room to try to weasel your way out of the conversation, pinning you to the spot with his stare. Even though the two of you were decent enough friends, this whole issue was concerning his brother, so you’d rather not bring it up to him. Or anyone for that matter.

“It’s nothing, really-”

“Bullshit and we both know it. Now spill.” Damn Jason.

“I think I need to-”

“I think you need to tell me what’s going on. Spill.” Bastard.

“Okay, fine! Damn, you’re stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Alright. So, uh, what can you tell me about Dick and Barbara?” You immediately took a sip of the champagne, trying to hide your face.

“What?”

“You heard me.” “Yeah, but I thought you and Dick already talked about all that.”

“Humor me.”

“They dated in high school, but she works with us so we’re all pretty close to her,” Jason explained.

“Like she works at Wayne Enterprises?”

“Wait, he hasn’t told you?”

“Hasn’t told me what, Jason? Listen, I overheard him on a call with her a bit ago and then he made an excuse to go meet her. Can you just tell me if you know anything or not?”

“Listen, Dick’s a fucking idiot for going this long without telling you, but he’s not cheating on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Then what isn’t he telling me?”

“He’s your boyfriend, why don’t you just ask him?”

“He’s your brother, why don’t you just tell me if you know?” Jason laughed, taking a drink.

“Trust me, if I tell you, you won’t believe me. Just ask him before you drive yourself insane.” And just as quickly as he appeared, the man made his way back into the crowd, leaving you with your half drunk champagne and more questions than answers. But one thing was for certain, you couldn’t put this off for much longer, and if that meant breaking your illusion of a happy, perfect relationship, then so be it.

There was a certain lightness to knowing that, by the end of the night, you would have your answers. The facade you’d been putting on would finally fade away, and maybe you’d be able to breathe a little easier. When Dick returned to your side later that night, asking for a dance, he held you like you were precious, but not like you were broken. You would miss this.

The time wasn’t right until the last of the absurdly rich people were ushered into their cars, and you and the rest of the Wayne clan were returning to your rooms upstairs. Dick helped you out of your dress, pressing a kiss to the skin that was revealed to him, and it was all so tender that it made you want to cry. He passed you one of his t shirts to sleep in, and once you were dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, you took a deep breath.

“Hey, so uh, I think I’m ready to talk about what’s been going on,” you told him as he was about to turn off the light. Immediately he crossed the room, kneeling to look up at you.

“Okay, take all the time you need.”

“So, a while ago when we were watching a movie, you got up to take a call, and I kind of overheard it,” you started, trailing off. Dick squeezed your knee, encouraging you to continue. “I know you haven’t been leaving for work emergencies. If something’s wrong here, then could you at least tell me instead of running to Barbara in the middle of the night?”

You chanced a glance at your boyfriend’s face, and there was nothing there but confusion. Dick was a smart guy, but damn was he stupid.

“Could you please just tell me what’s going on?” you asked, pulling his hand from your knee and into your own. You could feel the tears building again, but ignored it for now. “I just can’t take anymore lies.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t know how you’d take it,” Dick started, pressing a kiss to your hand. “Please don’t cry, baby. I’m not cheating on you, not with Barbara, not with anyone.”

“Then why do you keep sneaking out? You’re gone all night, and it’s not work-”

“Get up, put on some pants. I wanna show you something.” The sudden decisiveness was jarring, especially with how Dick had been kneeling at your feet mere moments before.

“Like, real pants?” Dick just stared at you, and you had to blame it on the emotional whiplash you were currently going through. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you opted to grab a pair of sweats from the top of your bag. 

As soon as your slippers were on, Dick took your hand and led you through the halls of the manor. The place seemed so much lonelier when Bruce wasn’t hosting something, your footsteps echoing through the halls. You didn’t know the house well enough to know where exactly Dick was taking you, but eventually he stopped in the main hall.

“Alright, so what do you want to show me?” You asked, still trying to process what exactly was going on here. Surely the explanation couldn’t be so complicated as to have you running around the Wayne Manor.

“Wait just a second, I promise.” Dick turned to the grandfather clock, opening the glass door on its body and messing with something. Before you could ask what he was doing, he closed the door again and held up a finger for you to wait. A panel behind the grandfather clock opened, revealing a sleek elevator with blue lights accenting it. Before you could question it further, Dick pulled you into the elevator and pressed the button to start the descent.

“Rich people are so fucking weird, I swear,” you mumbled as the elevator just kept going down. “Dick, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see in just a second.”

“That’s what you keep saying!” As if the world wanted to prove you to be an ass, the doors opened to reveal what you could describe as nothing other than a cave. Well, if a cave had very high-tech capabilities and various platforms showing off expensive equipment. “What the actual fuck?”

“So, uh, I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t because it’s kind of weird and a little unbelievable,” Dick explained, once again taking you by the hand. Of course you recognized what this was, it was a little hard not to recognize something like the Batmobile. Your mind immediately scrambled for answers, but you couldn’t really rationalize all this the way you wanted to. It wasn’t until Dick stopped in front of the display cases of different suits that it fully sunk in.

“No fucking way.”

“Yeah. First things first, not Batman. But I think you can put together the fact that we live in Blüdhaven and-”

“You’re Nightwing.”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m really sorry I lied to you for so long, but I honestly thought I was keeping you safe and-”

“You’re an idiot,” you cut him off, not really meaning it. Well, you still kind of meant it. “I should’ve known there was no way you got that beat up from being a detective.”

Dick laughed, relief flooding his features. “Yeah, I’m not that bad at my day job.”

“So, that call with Barbara…”

“I was really trying to take the night off, but then Barbara got some information about a meeting happening that night and I had to go. I promise, she’s our informant and kind of runs a lot of things around here,” Dick explained. “It kind of works that I did the big reveal here. Showing you that locked trunk I have in the closet just doesn’t hit the same as coming here.”

“Yeah, I bet it doesn’t,” you agreed, laughing. You really didn’t know how to process the flood of emotions running through you, try as hard as you might. Of course you were a little miffed about the fact that Dick had been lying to you for years, but you also understood this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you could really be open about. You were still emotionally drained from all the turmoil you’d gone through lately, but mostly you were relieved. Your boyfriend hadn’t found someone else. You weren’t going to be left as an afterthought. Things were going to be (kind of) the same.

Except for the fact that now you knew your boyfriend wore spandex on a near nightly basis.

“I completely understand if you need some time to process all this, but if you still want me, I promise I’ll never hide something like this from you again.” Dick turned to face you fully, taking your hand in his and holding it to his chest. “I’ll do whatever I need to make it up to you, please, I love you.”

“Dick, the last thing I ever want to do is break up with you. That’s why it took me so long to say something in the first place. I was willing to look past it all if it meant that you stayed, and if that makes me stupid, then yeah, I’m stupid.” You were glad when Dick interrupted you by pulling you into him, pressing his lips to yours.

Just as you were taking the time to enjoy the kiss, you heard a wolf whistle coming from somewhere else in the cave. “It’s about damn time you told her, but could you not do that right in front of the suits?”

Fucking Jason. 

[bryhoney]

Recognisance Pt.6

Hello!! I hope you enjoy! Just wanted to say thank you for all the support this fanfic has received so far :) I'm also sorry in advance :((((

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AO3

I've got an interview coming up for potentially a dream job offer so I'm prepping for that all the time at the moment - hence the slight delay in posting updates! But fingers crossed that all works out and it should be regular again!!

You’re seated opposite Gabriel and you note that he’s irritated at the commotion around you. No doubt he wanted to seat you in some private room to interrogate you but with the aftermath of the Ghost’s infiltration of the base - there isn’t anywhere to go. 

You’re in an office that hasn’t been soundproofed, people are frantically ferrying their wounded colleagues or scrambling to gather information from each other. 

Gabriel will be called away soon, he will have to answer to someone or orchestrate the next steps the Federation will take. He’d likely take the brunt of the blame for this mishap. 

“Now, I’m only going to ask you nicely, once. You let them out, didn’t you?” He’s smoking, which you find unnerving. He’s doing everything he can to appear calm, but you’re sure he’s shaken by the breach and furious with your actions. 

You don’t answer immediately, you’re not sure what the best approach here is. Despite everything, he’s still the only constant you have in your life. 

“You didn’t tell me,” you’re oddly proud at how stable your voice is, you feel numb to everything other than the man opposite you, and you’re not even sure he’s an ally anymore. 

He sighs, moving to stand. You can tell he’s wrestling with himself to maintain his composure. He looks out the window at the flurry of soldiers outside the office. 

“I thought it’d be better this way, I’ll explain it all when this is over,” he sounds sincere, gesturing to the hallway to indicate that ‘this’ is the catastrophic impact of the ghosts.

“You killed my father,” you whisper, hating everything about this situation. You hate that your heart aches for a man you don’t know. You wished, more than anything, to remember the man whose voice you’d heard consoling you, who sounded like he loved you. 

He turns back to you, “He wasn’t your father in the end, he was a liar - a traitor,” his voice is cold and hard and the look he gives you is lethal. 

You’d also betrayed Rorke.

A soldier bursts into the room, “Sir,” his attempt to portray a calm indifference is admirable despite the heavy breathing that gives him away. 

“I’ll be back soon, I expect you to be in your room until we can secure the site again,” Rorke says calmly before turning his back to you. He strides out of the room, following the younger man towards the main control centre. 

It takes you a second to stand, hesitant to walk through the soldiers. Did they know who you were? Would they kill a relative of a Ghost? A Walker? 

You hold your head up high and turn towards the living quarters, trying not to look at the extent of the damage that just a handful of men wrought onto a base full of highly trained operatives. 

—

Time moves very slowly as you sit and wait in your room for Gabriel. 

You’re sure that outside your room, the base is still in chaos but it’s completely silent in here. You’ve shut out every thought and memory that tries to resurface as you quietly try to piece together what you know. 

Firstly, You’re a Walker. Your brothers are Hesh and Logan Walker. 

From what you can recall, your childhood had been a happy one with the Walkers. This fact is less concrete, just moments of a normal, if somewhat eccentric family. 

Secondly, you were tortured by them. The memories of your time in the room are hazy and interwoven with snippets of pain. But it was them - you’re not sure what drove them to do that to you. What had you done to turn them so far against you? 

Rorke had told you that you’d been tortured to get to him. Who were you to Rorke? You had more ties to the Ghosts in Blood alone. You can’t recall being field-trained or dangerous enough to pose a substantial threat to them. 

But Rorke insisted that they wanted to recapture you.

But you were out in the field, and you had tried to kill someone. 

You had been raised by the leader of the Ghosts. Was it so unlikely to think you hadn’t also been taught some basic self-defence? 

Your brothers were ghosts. 

You-

“Keegan,” that was your voice, it was breathy and- 

Oh God. 

Oh God. 

What the ever-loving fuck was happening. You knew next to nothing and Rorke had kept you in the dark. You had no idea who to trust. 

Why didn’t he tell you? 

Your memories would come back. They had to, you couldn’t stand this awful limbo of not knowing who you were and what had happened. 

The door clicked open, and Rorke stepped into the room before locking it behind him. You felt small, entirely defenceless with him in this space. 

“How you holding up, sweetheart?” his tone calm, reassuring as though nothing had happened. You furrowed your eyebrows. You’d allowed his enemies to escape and now he was calling you pet names? 

“I’m alright,” your voice is small and your knees are now tucked up towards you. 

He sits at the foot of your bed, looking towards you in the darkness, “Today was- it wasn’t what we expected,” he’s being honest, so you hope to keep him calm and keep him talking. 

“No kidding,” you try smiling through the darkness at him. You’re, entirely preoccupied with self-preservation - it’s as though you’ve cornered a wild animal. 

He smiles back towards you, “I suppose it’s high time you knew the truth.” You're taken aback, this was not the route you thought this military strategist would take. You had convinced yourself he would try something more calculated than the truth. But, that is assuming this was the truth. 

You bring your arms up to hold yourself, “maybe," you’re being soft, giving him no reason to see any threat in you. 

“You’re not a Walker,” he says it as though it’s obvious and it earns a physical, knee-jerk response from you,

“I am! I am a-”  You’re furious, he’s going to lie to you again.

“Let me finish,” his tone is violent, final. He softens as you flinch from him, never once has he yelled at you like this. He’s volatile, you’ve always known that and yet-

“You were a Walker,” he adds, he sighs and meets your gaze again, and you don’t expect it. You’re silent so he’ll continue. 

“You were a Walker, God knows what you were before the Walkers took you in.” He tries a smile at you, clears his throat and reaches towards his pockets, “You’ve been a Rorke for just under three years now,” his hand extends towards you, he’s holding a ring. 

You’re blinking rapidly, you feel yourself pale as your stomach drops through the floor. 

No. 

“What?” you whisper, heart in your throat.

“It’s yours,” he says, and you take the ring gingerly, inspecting it as though it might trigger some long-buried memory of your time with Rorke, your husband. 

No. 

This isn’t right. 

“I don’t- I don’t remember any of this?” your voice is level and calm, but internally you’re trying to stitch together even more fragments of your life. 

He laughs, “It was rushed, and they hate me all the more for it.” He places a hand atop your knee and you don’t shrug him off. 

“This doesn’t make sense, I wouldn’t have joined the Federation if I were a Walker, we’d have been enemies? How did we even-?” your train of thought is derailed by the constant theorisations forming and collapsing in your head. 

“It’s a long story, kid, but, I was a Ghost once, before-” he pauses, clearing his throat,  “I was close with Elias,” he replies, and God- it sounds honest. You don’t have any timeline to place this all on to verify anything he’s saying. 

He looks at you, sighing as he continues, “I don’t expect you to wear it, they tried to destroy every part of me from your memory when they took you. I was foolish, I didn’t think they’d hurt you because they were.” He stands, and you track his movements. You feel stupid, even less certain. But he was so much older, how did you even meet - and yet- 

You believe him. 

“Gabriel, I-” You’re not even sure what you were going to say but you felt the need to continue. It makes sense, why the Ghosts would want you alive, why’d they want to hurt you. 

But they’re home. They were home once. 

“I’m sorry," he says, “I should have told you from the start, I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” He moves towards you and kisses the top of your head. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Is all he says before he leaves. 

And you almost hate him for it, he has ripped away the idea that you had a family that loved you. Of course, you didn’t have a family, you only had Gabriel. 

But he was so much older, how did you even meet - how?

The man who has been nothing but respectful and kind. Your husband. 

It explains why the Ghosts want you. It explains why a highly capable, violent man remained calm with you despite freeing his sworn enemies. You hate how much it makes sense. 

“He’s dangerous, and he knows exactly how to kill us,” It’s your father, a briefing before a mission. 

Likely against Rorke. Your husband. 

You don’t remember any of this. 

The Ghosts had taken so much from you. 

You had so many questions. Despite the answers Rorke had given you, you felt more in the dark than ever. 

“You’re infuriating, you shouldn’t even be in that room, anything could-” You cut the man with the deep voice off by kissing him. He doesn’t hesitate - his hands reach for you. One hand on your waist pulls you towards him, the other holding the back of your head fingers in your hair as he devours you. He kisses you with such intensity your knees feel like they’re about to give out from beneath you. You whisper, “Shut up, Keegan,” against him as you lose yourselves in each other, he’s pushing you backwards until your back hits the wall. You gasp at the impact, and he raises one of your legs to his waist before he pushes his hips against yours, you moan into his mouth-

No. No. 

How could a Ghost, Keegan, do those things to you in your memory and then so easily carve a knife into your skin? 

You’re sobbing. Utterly frustrated at your inability to remember anything that could help you put your life back together. 

You weren’t a Walker after all.

[e-dubbc11]

i just realized that i had my asks for the summer sleepover ready but i didnt send them...ya know, like an idiot 🫠

I’ll deal with him.

He won't hurt you again, I promise.

but not with reader...with sweetest pain's very own teenage!anna 😭😭😭 i just really need protective dad!billy 🥹

Hello my darling friend! ♥️

This was such a fun ask so thank you for sending it in and for participating in my summer sleepover. I know how much you love this series and this little family so I really hope you like what I did here.

Always Her Hero

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader and Teenager! Anna Raven

Warnings: Swear words, fluff, protective Dad! Billy

Word Count: 2.5K-ish

Summary: At 16, Anna Raven gets her first boyfriend. Her parents have a bit of a hard time watching her grow up.

A/N: I hope it’s ok I told this from Billy’s POV. Part of The Sweetest Pain Series, read the rest of the collection HERE

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Don’t you give me that look, Billy Russo. I saw you squeeze that kid’s hand tighter than you should have when you shook it. He’s 16, baby.” She said after watching your daughter leave on her first date.

Her arms were folded protectively across her chest and she glared at you playfully with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw, trying to look intimidating but she just managed to look adorable and beautiful as always.

Even after all these years and two kids later, she’s still such a little firecracker, and still just as stunning as the first day you saw her. She wandered into your tattoo shop wanting to get a sleeve done and the rest is history.

Well, it didn’t happen that quickly. It took a long time to express how you really felt about her but luckily for you, she felt the same way.

You made her your wife and she gave you everything you had ever wanted including two great kids. Your oldest, Anna Raven, was the perfect combination of you and y/n from her looks down to her ambition and strength.

And your son, Dylan, well, let’s just say he’s more like you in ways you hoped he would have been more like his mother.

“Where were they going again?” You asked.

Y/n moved a stray hair away from your face that had tumbled into your eyes and then brushed your beard with her thumbs. She gave you a warm smile and pressed her lips gently to yours. She always knew how to ease your tension.

“They were going to drive go-karts, my love. He said he would have her home by 10:30, sharp.” She said and then paused. “Billy, I know this isn’t easy for you. Hell, it’s not easy for me either; she’s our baby…our Little Raven. But we can’t stop her from growing up.”

Anna may have your eye color but the shape of her eyes were her mother’s and they were kind just like hers.

But you were a teenage boy once, you knew how they operated, and didn’t even have a real relationship until you fell in love with y/n. You just wanted to protect your little girl.

Until now, you have always been around to protect Anna from any harm. When she was learning to walk, you tried to prevent her from hitting her head, tripping on anything, or falling. But she wasn’t a toddler anymore and you couldn’t follow her around forever.

“I know, sweet girl. I’m just…still getting used to it.” You said, sheepishly.

She took your hand in hers, smiled again and said, “Come on, soldier. I think I have a piece of chocolate in the kitchen with your name on it. We can mourn our little girl growing up together.”

That night you sat on the couch with your wife looking at pictures of Little Raven from when she was a baby and all the way up until now.

“Remember this day, baby?” You asked.

You were holding up a picture of Little Raven doing her first tattoo. She tattooed her name on your leg and y/n lost her mind when she came into the studio to pick Anna up and found her with a tattoo pen in her hand.

“I still can’t believe you let her do that, Billy. Good thing you didn’t get caught!” Said y/n. “She looked at me with the biggest smile on her face too. ‘I’m tattooing, Daddy! Look Mommy!’” She said with a smile.

You brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Ah, we weren’t open yet for the day anyway.” You told her.

“Both of you…little sneaks.” She said.

All of a sudden, you heard a car door close out front in the driveway. Closing the photo album, you absentmindedly tossed it onto your wife’s lap and crept over to the front door.

“Billy Russo, don’t you dare spy on our daughter’s first date!” She whisper yelled at you. “She’s gonna catch you and when she does, you’re gonna feel the wrath of your own temper from our child.”

She wasn’t wrong. Anna did have your temper.

The entryway into your house was dark but the outside light was on so you could see both of them awkwardly standing on the steps, trying to figure out what to say next, and that’s when he leaned in and kissed her.

As hard as you tried to keep from clenching your fists and your teeth, you couldn’t do it. You even thought you had a cause to get mad because she got home later than her curfew but that wasn’t the case either.

It was 10:25.

The kid even brought her back home early…shit.

You had drifted away for a minute and snapped back to now when you heard a key in the door. It’s a good thing you had long legs because it only took you a few strides to make it back to the living room before Anna walked in.

“Mom? Dad?” Anna called out.

“We’re in the living room, baby.” Said y/n. “Sooooo, how was your date?”

Little Raven rolled her eyes at her mother. “It was fine, Mom. Jake’s a nice guy.”

“You had a good time then, Miss?” You asked.

Anna dropped her shoulders and rolled her eyes again.

“Yes, Dad. I had a good time.” Said Anna, looking at the photo album cover. “What are you guys doing with the photo album?”

You exchanged a look with your wife, knowing Anna hated when the two of you would make jokes, you decided to mess with her a little bit.

“Oh Mom and I were trying to decide which picture to show Jake the next time he comes over. Which one do you like better? This one of you in the bath? Or this one of you crying after we washed your ‘tattoo sleeve’ off?” You said, holding up the two photos side by side.

“Don’t you dare, Dad!” Yelled Anna.

You laughed with y/n while Little Raven scoffed and walked upstairs to go to bed.

“G’night Mom, g’night Dad…Love you.” She said on her way up to her room.

With your wife still sitting on the couch, you leaned over and touched your forehead to hers. She raked her nails against your scalp, smiled against your lips, and whispered, “I love you.”

You smiled back and replied, “I love you too, beautiful.”

**********

8 Weeks Later

“Yeah? And how long have you been seeing this JAKE, Little Raven?” Asked Frankie.

He was Anna’s godfather and at times he could be even more overprotective than you or y/n. Even he was having a hard time accepting that she was getting older, she didn’t mind that he still called her “Little Raven.”

“It’s just been a couple of months, Uncle Frankie. Do you have to give me the third degree? Mom and Dad do that enough.” She grumbled.

You hated to admit it but Anna reminded you a lot of yourself when she made certain grouchy facial expressions. You’ll have to remember that for the next time you’re being a grouch to y/n.

“Are you seeing him tonight?” He asked.

Anna shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m goin’ to dinner and the movies with Sofie and Hannah.”

“Alright, well have fun, kid. I wouldn’t say no to you bringing me your leftover popcorn.” Said Frankie.

Anna smiled and replied, “You know there’s never any leftover popcorn. I’m a closer, Uncle Frankie.”

Everyone laughed, she waved goodbye and you felt a little relieved that she was going out with her friends tonight, instead of her boyfriend. It worried you a lot less.

**********

Around 8:30, while you and y/n were enjoying after dinner drinks in the living room with Frankie and Maria, you heard keys in the door.

You knew Dylan was upstairs playing video games and Anna was supposed to be at the movies with her friends, so it surprised you to see Anna storm through the front door, walk right past her mother, and head directly upstairs to her room without saying a word.

“Anna?” She called out.

Everyone heard her door slam and it got really quiet, really quickly.

Y/n called to you, “Billy…” And she motioned for you to follow her up the stairs.

“Be right back, you guys.” You said to Frank and Maria.

Standing outside Anna’s door, you remembered when you had moved into the house. It wasn’t long after Dylan was born.

One of the first things you did before moving in was paint Anna’s name on her bedroom door. She was so excited to see it and she loved it so much. Even though she was a teenager now, she never wanted to paint over it which made you smile.

“Stay here for a minute.” Y/n said to you as she gently knocked on the door. “Anna? Baby? You ok?”

After she walked into Anna’s room, she left the door open a crack so you could see and hear what was going on. Through the crack in the door, you could see that Anna was face down on her bed and hear her sobbing into her pillows.

You didn’t even know who or what made Anna cry like that but you became breathless with anger and your muscles suddenly stiffened while you tried to find the restraint not to rage punch the wall.

“What happened, honey?” Her mother asked.

Anna fought to regain control of her tears but it was still hard to get the words out.

“He was there, Mom…at the movies! And he was kissing another girl!” Sobbed Anna. “And when I confronted him, he said the dumbest thing possible. ‘Oh I didn’t know you were gonna be here.’ OBVIOUSLY!! So I kicked him in the nuts and told my friends I wanted to go home.”

You were furious and proud at the same time. She’s a firecracker too just like her mother. Anna let her mom comfort and soothe her by stroking her beautiful dark hair that was just like yours, telling her it’s ok, and what an asshole he is.

Even she was proud of her for kicking him in the beans because she told Anna that it’s something she would have done.

As Anna was being comforted by her mother, the doorbell rang. Frank answered and called upstairs to say that Jake was there.

You walked into your daughter’s room but instead of seeing Anna’s sweet teenage face, all you could see was a teary eyed three-year-old Anna Raven when she had skinned her knee or fell face first into a snow pile…it was at a time when all she needed to feel better was a kiss on the tip of her nose but it wasn’t that simple this time.

“Dad?” She asked.

You kissed her on the tip of her nose and replied, “I’ll deal with him. He won’t hurt you again, I promise.”

You turned to head downstairs before y/n stopped you in the hallway.

“BILLY! What are you gonna do, baby? You know you can’t kill him because believe me, I want you to.” She said.

You captured her lips in a passionate kiss; she was taken completely by surprise but quickly melted into your arms and you felt the tension in her body ease just a little bit.

“I know I can’t kill him but it doesn’t mean I can’t scare the crap outta him, right sweet girl?” You said with a smile and a wink.

She bit back a smile, shook her head, and walked back into Anna’s room while you headed downstairs. You received a video text from Anna before you reached the bottom of the stairs that made you laugh. You’ll definitely be showing that to others.

Jake, looking frantic, was waiting at the bottom, pacing back and forth in front of the door.

“Mr. Russo, do you think I could just talk to Anna for like a minute, please?” He asked.

“Walk with me outside for a minute…Jake.” You said softly but in a bitter tone.

The two of you started to walk away from the house and into the front yard.

“Did Anna ever tell you what I used to do in the marines?” You asked through gritted teeth.

Anxiously, Jake shook his head back and forth. “N-no s-sir, she didn’t.”

A wide Cheshire Cat smile stretched across your lips as you replied, “She didn’t huh?” You paused and started to rub your hands together. “Well, it may have a more profound effect coming from me anyway. Ya see, I was what they called a Scout Sniper, my file said I had 134 confirmed kills. So unless you wanna make it 135, I suggest you leave my daughter alone and never contact her again or else she will send this video to the entire school.”

You put your arm around Jake, pulled out your phone and pushed play on the video Anna had sent you. One of Anna’s friends had recorded her kicking Jake in the nuts and then zoomed in on his tear stained cheeks as he cried out in pain in the middle of a crowded movie theater lobby.

In barely more than a whisper, you heard Jake mumble “Oh fuck…”

Still with a devilish smile on your face, you said firmly, “Now get off my property and I never wanna see you near my daughter ever again, not that she’d ever let you anyway.”

You watched Jake run to his car and not look back as he drove away as fast as he possibly could. It was pure joy that you felt in the pit of your stomach knowing you scared the shit out of some poor 16-year-old kid that broke your daughter’s heart.

As you stepped inside the house, you could hear everyone talking and laughing. Anna had emerged from her room and was showing Frankie the video. It was almost as if nothing ever happened and Anna was smiling again which is the only thing you wanted.

Your wife crept up behind you and you always said the same thing to her, every time she did.

“You know you can’t sneak up on me, sweet girl.”

She replied, “I know, baby. I just like lookin’ at you from behind.”

You heard Anna groan. “Ewwwww, Mommmmmm-uh!”

That made you laugh.

Anna crashed into you and wrapped her arms around your torso. She said, “Thank you, Dad. You’re my hero. Love you.”

Hugging her back, you replied, “You’re welcome, baby girl. Love you too.”

Anna Raven was definitely your little girl. She was resilient, she’s always been that way, and you knew she always would be. She would try over and over again to get the outcome that she wanted.

You recognized the perfectionism trait you had passed down to her but also noticed the compassion and big heart she had that came from her mother.

Anna learned self-reliance; she had started to need you for less and less and you missed the days when she came to you for every little thing because she couldn’t do it herself. She had to learn to save herself if you weren’t around but you would be there if she ever fell.

And no matter how old she gets, she will still need you some of the time, she will always be your little girl, and you will always be her hero.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @fictional-hooman @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[inu-jiru]

Jazz's "Apology Tour" ramble

Episode was trash, let's go.

First off, the whole "Fuck Blitzo" party is so stupid to me, like you're telling me this 30-something year old man had intimate relationships with ALL these demons and HE was the sole thing that ruined ALL of them?

And how did Verosika even find out about Stolas? Like I know Ozzie's happened, but how'd she hear about their "breakup" (they weren't together but whatever, show)?

Why the FUCK does Verosika care about Stolas being an uwu sad victim of mean old Blitzo aside from everyone being written to want to huff Stolas' sad boi farts?

Why is no one trying to kill Stolas like in Loo Loo Land, like suddenly we're just cool with the oppressive racist now (who am I kidding, the rank system doesn't exist anymore unless the "meanie supremacist" characters bring it up I guess)?

Don't think I'm trying to be "Blitzo's#1Bitch69" or anything, but Season 2 is just so gross in how they've written him. Either he's the big bully meanie for hating his abuser, or they've had him commit the most out of pocket atrocities (like possibly SAing Stolas since he was technically drunk or the circus incident or the shit he pulled with Verosika because what the fuck kinda trauma makes you steal someone credit card for horse riding lessons???) that they just gloss over because fuck having Blitzo actually progress normally or Stolas taking actual responsibility for his own actions, let's just speed through everything so it's back to Stolitz City, don't think about the implications. I just can't stand itttt, I still like and pity Blitz to an extent but his writing is killing meeee

Stolas, stop whimpering about being wanted YOU HAVE A KID WHO HAS STILL NOT APPEARED SINCE SEEING STARS WHERE IS SHE?

Am I really hearing that people are hating the dude flirting with Stolas like come on yall STOLITZ IS NOT OFFICIAL YET CHILL

I've honestly started skipping through episodes, like I can't fucking listen to "WAHHHHH BLITZO I WANT YOU TO WANT ME" for the millionth time, I wish this episode could've just been Blitzo and Verosika facing their issues or something I just don't wanna see this owl loser act like a victim anymoreeee

Man really said "when have I ever been condescending?" SEASON ONE???? How about every time you grab his face and call him out of his name and watch him be shot at while demanding he come over one a month? Oh, but when Blitz starts doing it back it's "Oh I'm uncomfortable ooOoOoo stop it Blitz hnnghhh I don't like it :C :C :C", like whatever man.

The Striker comment was dumb and wrong but that's because Stolas is dumb and wrong

Honestly I feel like I'm repeating the same points I and others have made in the past so all imma say is, I hope Octavia and Stella are enjoying their off-screen and better written adventures together. I'm gonna draw some AU stuff now to give my eyes something better to look at.

OH I forgot to talk about Verosika, uh, she was there? I honestly think she should just get over herself at this point, idk when she and Blitz broke up but what the fuck is it about this clown that she was so enamored over where she's this hurt? I can get being mad about her credit card and Blitz being a lazy partner but if that's the case, I fail to see how they got to a point where she got his name tatted on her arm. Idk it's weird

The Mayweather shit or whatever her name is was pointless and made no sense, like "I want you to kill this woman who made me attempt to kill her and myself but now we're dating" like? Hey Vivzie if yall can callback to that why can't yall call back to Stolas being a creep huh?

EDIT: They really made that fuckass "it's hell" excuse canon, huh? Like, it doesn't even make sense in the context of Blitz saying that, like people say "it's hell" because Biblically speaking, it's where those who truly oppose God in order to live a life of wickedness go as just punishment. Blitz the equivalent of a regular guy in Hell unlike the Hazbin characters, he shouldn't understand that there's a better alternative to Hell because he's not human and never had any opportunity to learn about Heaven or God (unless it's just in their DNA or something idk who knows with this show)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi. I have a pretty specific request for Kaz x reader. Basically, the reader was a part of the dregs for some time, well acquainted with Kaz, Nina and Inej (and Jesper, though I don't remember when he dropped studies and joined, but like yeah). After some time (2 years?) the reader is sent off to a job that causes them not to run into the main group a lot. For half a year they almost disappear (maybe swindling people in the harbor or watching some other Dregs’ territory). When they return all is good, new scars were definitely made and all, but that's a part of the job. They did mess up their leg though, having the knee crushed by a heavy object. They didn't get to heal it and after half a year its pretty hard to really fix. Unfortunately, they were known for their dancing and athletics as well as hand to hand combat before. That was why thy were seen as a valuable asset in the first place. And in the Dregs it’s not uncommon to overlook or hide injuries. So, though it's clear that something is wrong, they downplay it, afraid of being seen as weak or useless. But they struggle on the daily. I mean, from experience, that kind of an unhealed injury is hard to manage - they don't know how to sleep without pain flaring up bc the usual positions just don't work anymore, they have to relearn walking the stairs in a painless manner, whether changes are number one enemy, riding in anything is a nightmare bc the roads are bumpy, sitting apparently can cause pain too not to even mention walking. And all the fighting and acrobatics aren't as effective. They try to make others forget, trying to dance with Nina and Jes and sparring with Inej as if nothing happened. They want their life and self worth back

Before, they were known for keeping Kaz at a distance, which doesn't change at first. They still bicker, the reader is still distrustful. But I think he would be helpful. Not out of kindness, especially at first, but out of convenience. He can’t have them messing things up and so it starts small with offhand tips. Just enough not to have them get killed. Later, perhaps, they start talking more and the reader isn't sure if Kaz is still just the ruthless asshole they have to work with

To be fair, I don't have much plot. I just have my love for bittersweet stories and my messed up leg to provide inspiration. Also, don't care what you do with the gender, I used they/them to make in neutral but I don't really care. I know this request is long. No pressure if you don't like this scenario

-☆

My apologies for this taking so long. I was just scared that I wasn’t gonna do this justice. I hope it’s at least somewhat close. 🥺😫

Broken dreams

Playing a part was always hard. Fitting different masks. Making sure they didn’t slip. Always a smile. Always a careless, wild girl. But she just died last year. She was beaten. Broken to bits. Tossed aside. Left to die in that ally. To rot. Forgotten. Would anyone have come looking for you? Would have missed you? Grieved you? They killed the innocent girl that day. Left a broken shell of a woman in her way.

“Come on one more”, Nina pulled at your hand breathlessly. You quickly shoot her a smile, pushing the demons running in your mind aside. “We just sat down”, you chuckled while in reality, the idea of being up on your feet was making you want to turn to the side and vomit. “Oh, come on, we used to dance all night long, remember?”, she tossed her head back, downing her drink. “Jasper always steps on my toes, I need you to save me from that”, she cackled. Your eyes followed Jasper who was turning Wylan around. How much has everything changed in the time you were gone? It felt as if you no longer belonged. As if this version of you didn’t belong here anymore. “Are you feeling okay?”, Nina’s worried eyes watched you and you instantly nudged her, “Morning my freedom now that you’ve pretty much left your boyfriend for me”, you teased her. Happy to see her laugh. Off the hook then. “Lead the way”, you urged her. You could dance. Then down half the bottle of painkillers. Snatch one of the absolute bottles from Kaz’s drawer. It would work. You just had to pretend for a bit longer.

The pain was unbearable once you finally excused yourself. Sobbing the whole way back to the den. The agony felt like tongues of flames. No longer just in your legs. All over your body now. You slumped against the door. Letting yourself breathe. Trying to breathe. Only twenty sets of steps. It used to be only. Now it felt like twenty too many. Ot aggravated you. You wanted your body back. Wanted your freedom back. Wanted to be able to do things that others did. You just wanted it all to stop.

“Back early”, the voice makes you halt. Eyes growing big, you wipe your face before turning around, “Been a while since I drank so freely, Nina is also too persuasive”, you shoot a somewhat dazed smile at Kaz, who’s leaning against the the hallway arch. “You used to dance till early morning sun”, his words meet the target in a blind shot. Making your eyes sting once more. “You used to be more quiet. Don’t want to crawl back to your hole?”, it’s bitter. So bitter because he had learned to live with his pain. You were jealous of that. You had hoped that by watching him you would learn some tricks. How to navigate things that were easy once but brought you pain now. You learned to walk down the stairs because of him. Of watching him.

“You’ve changed”, Kaz’s eyes don’t leave you as he speaks. “Rich coming from you”, you let out a chuckle, locking the outside door. “You’re defensive”, he continues to push, “You were never defensive with me. We argued. You tested my patience but you never bit me”, you hear the sound of his cane, then the smooth steps. “Why are you biting me now, YN?”, Kaz asks. “Don’t make everything about yourself, Kaz”, you turned around swiftly, feeling your legs dip slightly beneath your weight. But you bite back the cry of pain, stepping forward. Hoping to escape him. But Kaz’s cane comes in front of you blocking your way.

“You don’t get to walk away”, he grunts, turning his head to you. “I’ll ask this once”, his voice low, lethal, “So take your time to think”. You can feel him. Feel his eyes when he asks, “Who hurt you?”. The anger takes flight within you. Sending traitorous tears falling down your cheeks, “If I have an idea they would be six feet under”. He had played his part. Made you open the throbbing wound up for him to see. “They captured me. Broke my knees. I couldn’t…”, the words tumble freely, as you hide your face in your palms. “Why didn’t you say anything?”, his tone is blank, emotionless.

“What was I supposed to say?”, you crock out in frustration, “I was worthless then. I was of no use”. Kaz clenches his jaw, “So you hide the truth from me?”. You can’t help but growl in frustration, “I did the job you gave me. I got you what you wanted, what else do you want from me for fuck sake”.

And it’s a matter of heartbeats as your back hits the wall, Kaz’s cane now pressed against your chest, “I don’t give a fuck about the job”, he spats, veins visible in his tense neck now. “We could have gotten you a good doctor, could have…”, he grunts, “Did anyone look at the injury at all?”. You look at him for a moment. You could lie but what’s the point? “Some passing by a doctor”, you admit, “Fixed what he was able to, wished me luck, and left”.

Kaz shakes his head as he steps back, “How bad is the pain?”, “You want to bask in it?”, you clip right at him. “I should throw you out. Make you pay for ruining your own body so carelessly”, he hisses, “Legally you are mine. I own you. So your legs are mine to worry about”. You scoff, “How sweet of you, my gods”. Kaz’s gloved hand catches your jaw, the touch starts you both it seems. “I’m mad at you because you should have spoken up. I would have helped you. Would have dropped everything and made my way to you”, Kaz snarls through gritted teeth, “You’re starting physical therapy from tomorrow. That’s an order”, he steps back, pulls at his west. You blink up at him, knowing that you should say something. Anything. He would have come to you. But was it true? “If you ever pull anything like this ever again…”, Kaz doesn’t finish but you know well what his words imply, “I’ll see you in the morning at my office. Think well about the features of people who attacked”.

[romanticatheartt]

Thoughts on Hannah Dodd calling John and Francesca platonic soulmates? Despite Jess Bromwell’s quote about her future queerness not negating her love for John it seems as though they’re gonna make her a lesbian instead of bisexual.

I think they're both right in this case. As long as I know, platonic love can be shared with anyone. But that passionate love is something that can be experienced with few and maybe in some cases only with one person.

I don't trust Jess to know wtf she's doing lol. From what I've seen in s3 it abundantly clear that she does whatever she wants and not caring for what the characters need and how it would impact the future storyline. She has the characters and move them as she pleases instead of letting the character move the plot.

So I don't trust her whatsoever but the ones I trust are the actors themselves. They have to understand the characters to play them. As you can see Jonny and Simone are the very clear example. They know these characters very well so they play them to perfection.

Now I think Hanna saying Fran's love for John is platonic, is in character and it might be right. I thought she might be more of a lesbian than bisexual myself as well.

Because the whole damn season Francesca was begging her mother to understand not all loves have to be the earth-shattering love she experience, for her to be wrong. All the while she claims to be in love with John to also instantly fall in love with Michaela. For her to look disappointed after kissing John.

So yes I think the difference in her reaction to Michaela and John can be interpret as her being more gravitated toward woman.

If Hanna says Fran's love for John is platonic and she still loves him then I think she is right. What I'm afraid of is the writers don't respect John and Francesca's love for him, and make her emotionally and physically cheat on him, that's my biggest issue with them. Which is so on brand for them tbh. Just look at the unnecessary Love triangle they throw in each season. So I think cheating trope wouldn't be so out of the picture for them to drop on their season. Going back behind John and make her disloyal to him (specially when John is the absolute sweetheart) which it would leave a bad taste in audience's mouth and it won't be good for them and definitely not a good representation of wlw.

I don't even know anymore lol. I'm absolutely disheartened and I don't think they're going to do anything in the favor of queers and their representation. I hope I'm wrong, I really do but I wouldn't get my hopes up.

[toughtoastz]

MEMORIES

Ah, do you remember? Id be surprised if you did at this point. But do you remember when we first met online and I made you film yourself gorging in the McDonald’s next to you? You used to be so cute. Do you remember when I would make you good too? I sent you those vibrating cock rings to keep you hard as you ate. My favorite part was when you were forcing down the final bites as you put the camera below the table to show the dripping dribble of cum from your little cock. I can’t believe they never caught you, especially when I made you start going daily. It started to get a little obvious when we met and I began feeding you and subtly jerking you off under the table with a vibrator up your ass. But it was fun while it lasted. Remember when you used to work and id make you do the same there? I LOVED seeing the worry and anxiety in your eyes as you jerked your cock in the office bathroom. It was at its best towards the end when your fat pad really started covering most of your cock even hard. Your mix of exhaustion from reaching, fear of getting caught, and pleasure of gooning your pick dick was very entertaining to watch the videos of. Ah, but the fun outside is long over, isn’t it pig? Oh well, they were fun while they lasted right? I can’t quite tell these days how lucid you are. Your glazed over eyes and mindless babbling aren’t encouraging. I guess I gave you a few too many drugs. But that was sort of the point after all, huh? Now I found the limit of how long your brain would last before it broke! Unless you are still lucid… in which case, Maybe I should increase the intake I give to my next pig, just in case. Well anyway, I think you’re just about done now little pig. Do you even feel your cock anymore? Under all that lard, my pump is still hooked up jerking you off. I’m pretty sure your cock broke long ago, tho. When I first hooked you up, it make you cum 7 times a day. When it got buried…. When it got hard to tell! There’s still cum that comes out, but I think at this point, your dick is totally limp 24/7, but just trickles out cum every so often. I can’t imagine how much your balls ache. Then again, I suppose the drugs help null that. But do you feel… anything anymore? Are you even aware of reality and life anymore? I can’t quite tell. You’re always dumbly halfway responsive. It’s tough to be sure. Not that it matters now, I have to get you moved out before I bring my new pig down here. But, it’s been fun pig, sorry I don’t remember your real name anymore, but I hope you had fun!

Which was the last thing you heard before the pain in your chest became too much and in a moment, your lard consumed you.