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#but now i'm the one who wants to keep my distance
ckret2 · 3 days
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Chapter 49 of human Bill Cipher being such a miserable prisoner even the Pines are starting to feel bad for him: The Eclipse: Epilogue.
####
"The heck did you do to that poor woman?" Tate asked, staring out the window. Bill was sitting on the pier, legs dangling in the water, staring blankly into the depths. He was still muddy and trembling. "She looks more traumatized than when y'all left."
Ford couldn't meet Tate's gaze under the brim of his hat, but he could feel Tate raising a brow when he spotted Dipper pacing back and forth on the pier behind Bill, muttering furiously.
"We've had a very bad day," Ford said. 
"Uh-huh."
"Could I borrow your phone to call my brother?"
Outside, Dipper was oblivious to everything except the one line he'd managed to remember from the Axolotl, the words he'd picked out as they crossed the lake. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,'" Dipper murmured. He knew that much. It was a poem. It was a rhyme. He couldn't remember the rest. What did it mean? He murmured it over and over to himself as he walked, trying to remember the next line, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,' 'sixty degrees that come in threes'... breeze, freeze, ease, lease, knees—" He couldn't remember the rhyme.
Bill was considering grabbing Dipper by the ankle and dragging him off the pier just to shut him up when whatsisname, the younger McGucket came out of the shop. "Hello there? Miss Goldie?"
Human. Strange human. Human that Bill could get on his side. Be charming. He tried to remember how to be charming. He offered a feeble smile. "Yello?"
"I wanted to make sure you're all right," Tate said. "You look like you, uh... you've had a hard time."
Bill laughed ruefully. "Well, I've been dragged all over the mountain, I'm hungry, exhausted, and half-drowned, and I can barely walk—but I'm not currently dead. Allegedly. I'll take what I can get."
The corners of Tate's mouth twitched down in a concerned frown. "Is there anything you need? A..." He floundered for a moment, "A water, or...?"
"I've had enough water to last me a lifetime." He wondered idly whether he could claim he was too exhausted to make it all the way home—there was a sofa in the staff room, Tate would probably let the poor bedraggled "woman" take a nap, if Bill got that bit of distance between himself and the Pines maybe he could... maybe he could... do something with it? But he couldn't think of anything more definite than that and now Ford was coming back and the window of opportunity closed. He shrugged wearily. "Just need to get back to the shack. Thanks." He half heartedly used the lake water to wash the drying mud off his lower legs and knees.
"Stan will be here in about twenty minutes," Ford said, and tried to ignore the dirty look Tate gave him. 
"I'll be just inside if you need anything else," Tate said. "Watching." He headed inside—and then, indeed, stood at the shop window and watched.
Ford was never going to get on Tate's good side. He suspected Tate would be a little less sympathetic to the poor woman on the pier if he knew who he really was; but it certainly wouldn't make Tate like Ford any better for keeping him around.
"Nothing to do now but wait." Ford unloaded the rest of their supplies from the borrowed motor boat. He dropped Soos's Monster-Mon backpack beside Bill—it was heavy, Bill must have just shoved his clothes and bedsheet straight in without bothering to wring out the water—and the plastic bag of snacks Dipper had bought. "You ought to eat more while we wait." Ford nudged the snack bag.
Bill sneered at it. "I don't want that trash."
"What?" Ford examined the bag's contents. Jerky, chips, candy, cups of marshmallow cereal... "This is ninety percent of what you eat."
"Ninety percent of what I eat is what I can scavenge from the counters."
Ford looked through the bag again. Ah. Right. So it was. "If you want something else, you know you can ask us to..."
"Mac and cheese."
Maybe Ford had better stop talking. He sighed and glanced at Dipper to see how he was doing.
It didn't look like Dipper had even registered Ford's return, too busy pacing and muttering to himself. Ford frowned. "Dipper?"
"Axolotl," Bill explained. "He's obsessing over him. Didn't I tell you that meeting that thing would drive him insane?" He tilted his head toward Dipper. "Look at that, he's already mumbling to himself. Don't suppose you have his therapist's number, do you? I doubt that would save him, but it might slow the process—"
Ford shushed him.
Dipper had briefly tuned back into the conversation when he heard Bill say Axolotl; and now he grit his teeth and stubbornly tuned it back out. No. He was not going insane. Dipper would figure this out. If he just remembered the rest he'd be fine. He tried to go through all the potential rhymes alphabetically, "—bees, cease, d—deez?" That wasn't a word. "Fees, geese, he's..." and on and on, "seas, tees, uh... vees? Wheeze..."
"I've had enough of you trying to convince that boy he's about to go mad," Ford muttered to Bill. "What do you get out saying that? Even if you do convince him he's insane, it won't make him start trusting anything else you say."
"I'm not lying," Bill said heatedly. "You ought to know that, you've been in the multiverse, you've seen plenty of maddening sights. You saw them before you even left the Nightmare Realm."
Ford hesitated before responding; was Bill trying to persuade Ford he was insane? But he could still remember those first few moments of terror in the Nightmare Realm: the creatures that had seemed to move and shift in impossible ways as they swam in and out of dimensions Ford couldn't see, the lights and colors that throbbed like an inverted migraine, Bill himself seemingly suspended a million light years away and a foot in front of Ford's face at the same time. Until Ford had latched onto his quest to destroy Bill and let that focus him, his mind had felt like an unraveling sock. "You were chief among those maddening sights."
"I was," Bill acknowledged neutrally.
"But I didn't go insane."
"Because you knew when to look away." He cast a sideways glance at Dipper, an implicit unlike him. "I know you used to read cosmic horror. Do you know why the narrator always goes mad just from looking at some giant beast? It's not because it's too ugly to take. It's because once you meet something, you try to understand it; but if you want to understand the reality something like that comes from," he rolled an eye up toward where the invisible Axolotl had hung in the sky, "you have to lose your understanding of your own reality. They're incompatible. Like the lunatics who escaped Plato's cave and came back ranting about nonsense like sunlight and colors."
It was a twisted interpretation of the cave allegory. Plato had meant it as a metaphor for education: that learning about the true nature of reality was enlightening, but alienated you from your peers.
Perhaps to Bill, enlightenment and insanity were the same thing.
Ford murmured, "Once your eyes have been too dazzled by the sunlight to see the dim shadows, you'll never be awed by a candle again."
"You have been there before."
Ford didn't answer.
"Once you've seen something like that, if you let yourself dwell on the significance of it all, you're doomed. Better to tell yourself it's unimportant and try to forget it ever happened."
Ford thought of Fiddleford.
Bill twisted around to snap tiredly at Dipper, "So stop staring at the sun before you go blind, moron."
"Shut up." Dipper had been trying to mentally drown out Bill's dire predictions by grasping for more rhymes—"disease, unease, Socrates"—but enough filtered through to make his stomach churn with nervousness. What if Bill was right? What if he never remembered what the Axolotl told him—what if he drove himself mad trying? What if this turned into a lifelong obsession—but he'd be fine and could let it go once he remembered—was that the trap? Was whatever it had told him impossible for a human to remember? Was it something so incomprehensible a human couldn't remember it without going crazy?
But he'd seen plenty of stuff last summer that was supposed to make humans go "insane." Bill had to be messing with him. He remembered the first line—surely that meant he could remember the rest—but was that part of the trap? "'Sixty degrees that come in threes'... come on, there's something else, I know it, what is it? 'Sixty degrees that come in threes'—"
Bill sighed irritably. "'Watches through the eyes in trees.'"
Dipper stopped pacing. He hadn't realized he'd raised his voice enough to be audible. "What?"
"What?" Bill said.
"What's the rest of it?"
"What rest of it? It's a couplet. That's all," Bill said. "Is that what he told you? He gets rhymey when he feels self-important, it's no big deal. Maybe you're lucky. Put it out of your head and you'll be fine."
Dipper turned the words over in his head. Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches through the eyes in trees... "That's not exactly right," he said slowly. "It was 'watches from within birch trees.'"
"Is that how he translated it? I've never heard it in English before. I got close, though, I knew it'd rhyme."
Ford echoed, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes.' Like a triangle?"
Dipper gave him a perplexed look. "What?"
"You're taking geometry next year, aren't you? The inner angles of polygons always have the same number of degrees; and a triangle has a hundred and eighty degrees. Three angles of sixty degrees forms... an equilateral triangle."
Dipper and Ford stared at Bill.
Bill gave them a tired, unreadable look. "What?" he said. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only equilateral triangle in the universe."
Well, now Dipper was sure there was more to the poem than just a couplet. "How many other equilateral triangles spy on people through birch trees?"
"Lay off," Bill said crabbily. "I didn't have to tell you that line. Don't make me regret it." He planted his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together, pressed his forehead to them, and massaged his eyelids with his thumbs.
He tilted slightly to the right, keeping the weight of his head off his left arm.
####
"Nice shirt," Stan said, eyeing Ford's anger management t-shirt.
"If you like it, you can have it."
"What happened to your coat?"
"Somewhere at the bottom of the lake," Ford sighed.
"How...?"
"I'll fill you in later."
Bill's trembling was almost unnoticeable by the time Stan arrived. Or, at least, it was slight enough that he could stand and make the short walk from the pier to the car without an obvious struggle. 
He climbed into the back seat, slid across the bench, leaned against the door, wrapped his arms around his Monster-Mon backpack, fell asleep, and didn't wake up for the entire drive home.
Dipper and Ford fell silent when they noticed; and, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Stan followed suit.
####
The event organizers for Higher Dimensional Gate had arranged for the Magister Mentium's audience to surround him in a circle with as large a circumference as possible, so that as many shapes as possible could pack into the first few rows where they could see him. Even so, the crowd was much too large for everyone to be in the first few rows. Speakers had to be planted throughout the crowd so that they'd all be able to hear the Magister speak. Most of his audience couldn't see him.
But he, with his all-seeing eye, could see all of them.
The crowd extended back, row after row after row, in every direction like flecks of multicolor confetti filling the air all the way to the horizon. He'd never spoken to such a large crowd before. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a large crowd before.
Not all of them were his worshipers. He didn't have that many worshipers. The rest were drawn in by his boast—to be the first shape outside of legends to predict an eclipse, over six months ahead of schedule. They were here for a spectacle. He meant to give them one.
If he succeeded, all these spectators would become his worshipers, he was sure of it. If he didn't succeed, he lost everything. The whole nation knew about his bet. He'd be financially ruined. His worshipers would abandon him. There would be no fleeing to a new town and starting over; everyone everywhere knew who he was. His life would be over.
This would be only the third eclipse he could recall. There's no way to neatly map shape ages onto human ages. Different year lengths, different aging speeds, different mental and physical milestones. But approximately, compared to a human, he was scarcely over fifteen years old. 
But he wouldn't fail. He pushed all his fears aside. He didn't even want to think about them. He wouldn't, because he couldn't, because he could see what nobody else saw. He could see the eclipse's approach.
It was traveling across the vast empty gulf outside the world.
The only other third dimensional objects he'd ever seen were the sun—which looked to him like a circle—and the stars—which seemed to be mere points. He assumed all third dimensional objects were fundamentally just second dimensional objects, moving on a strange plane. He had no capacity to model a 3D object in his mind.
But the eclipse was a beast that twirled and gyrated around impossible axes, moving and rotating in ways his eye couldn't even comprehend. To him, it looked as though the living creature—he assumed it was a living creature, sometimes it manifested a couple of limbs or an eye—was constantly shapeshifting, its perimeter moving and altering. Its uncanny undulations had haunted his nightmares for months after he first watched it, so young he'd barely started school. It wasn't any less nightmarish now.
But as incomprehensible and terrifying as it was, he could see it, and nobody else here could, and that was all that mattered. He could watch it on the horizon and publicly announce that it would cross the sun in two weeks—and then in about three days—and then, to his humiliation, not tomorrow but today, guaranteed, as the creature sped up and threw off his estimate. His worshipers and bemused spectators had taken over the square to while away the time. They'd quickly gathered around him to wait after he'd declared it would arrive within the hour
That had been almost an hour and a half ago. The stupid thing had slowed down.
The triangle was terrified.
In every direction, shapes were staring at him. Waiting. His father was watching him—his stare seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He could see reporters in the crowd taking notes.
He had to fight not to pace, not to cringe, not to show any nerves in front of the hundreds of eyes.
Now. It had to be now. It was so close. Please don't let him be wrong. Every cord in his body quivered in terror as he grabbed his microphone and announced: "Lines, bis, tris—quads, quints, and more! My dear students and beloved believers, and my—" he cut off the urge to say something nastier, "—curious visitors, who I hope will join our quest for enlightenment. This is the moment you've been waiting for! The eclipse is upon us! In less than a minute, it will begin!" He had to keep his gaze forward as he spoke, looking at his audience. (His mother had always said the way his eye went white when he was looking at the third dimension unnerved people.) "Soon—you won't have to take all my claims about the third dimension on faith. You'll be able to see for yourself the effect of the third dimension on the plane."
The crowd murmured excitedly. He could see his father relax. He stared up-but-not-north, gnawing nervously on his eyelid until he caught himself. The beast above glowed a warm pink in the light of the nearby sun.
And the stupid thing. Slowed. Again.
He stared in disbelief.
"Sixty seconds," his father whispered, out of range of the microphone.
His stomach flopped. He was dead.
"One minute, fifteen seconds. What's going—?"
He held his microphone away and hissed, "The eclipse decided to zigzag."
"Eclipses can zigzag?"
"Shhh!" He'd already failed. He'd already shown everyone he was wrong. He could hear the murmurs. His eye hurt from staring at the sun and from straining for so long to turn so far upward-not-northward, go faster faster faster—
There! The snout of the eclipse was this close to kissing the perimeter of the sun. He cried triumphantly, "Now!"
The wretched beast did a loop-the-loop around the sun and missed it entirely.
The triangle felt the last strands of his fraying self-composure snap.
He howled in rage.
He could hear laughs from the crowd. They felt like daggers in his sides.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was bellowing into outer space as if he thought it might hear him, "Do your think this is a game?! Is this funny?! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of the whole world!" His father put a hand on his arm; the triangle shoved him away. "Get back here right now! You thick, brainless, blobby, pink, feeler-faced two-eyed freak of nature! GET BACK HERE and LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" He was a lunatic, everyone would know it, their leader raving in a direction no one could actually see about some big pink delusion, what did he care, no one would ever take him seriously again anyway—
And the thing in the sky.
Stopped.
And looped back.
And came closer, and closer, and bigger, and bigger—it just kept getting bigger, how far away had it been before, how large was it, how large was the sun?
He hardly noticed the crowd's gasp as the creature twirled between them and the sun—the light shone through its body, pink with blood—and then out of the way, and then in again, and out—until finally it was so close that its perimeter completely engulfed the sun. He'd taken a field trip to the planet's surface once—an enormous solid mass of stone and crystal. Until now, he'd never seen another solid objects so large. To his limited understanding of 3D objects, it looked as though there were no organs inside its perimeter—just a layer of solid, uninterrupted flesh. He didn't know how it could even move.
It stopped straight over him.
He was sure the two black circles embedded inside its body must be its eyes. His whole life he'd heard psychic powers—psychic powers like his own—described as having an "inner eye." But he'd thought the phrase was just a metaphor. An eye on the inside of a body instead of on its perimeter would be useless to most people. He'd never seen a creature with an eye literally on the inside of its body. But the eclipse had two.
And they were looking at him.
A giant ever-shapeshifting cosmic horror from outside of reality, staring through the veil separating the sane world from outerplanar space, and it was looking—at—him.
He was terrified.
He heard an alien voice in his head, vast and deep and slow as distant whale song:
"Hello there!" It was overjoyed. It was tickled pink. "I've never been spoken to by a shape on the wall before. I didn't know you could see off of it!"
Weakly, the triangle repeated, "'A shape on the'...?"
"Yes, this wall of yours." The eclipse gestured with its tail at—everything. A single sweep that took in an entire dimension. "I've probably commuted past this wall billions of times, and nothing's ever called to me before. I didn't know shadows could do that!"
"'Shadows'?" the triangle echoed again. That was all they were? An eclipse's shadows?
"I'm absolutely delighted," the eclipse said. "First contact from a lower-dimensional species! I've watched you for eons and never imagined. Isn't this exciting! How charming of you! Tell me who you are."
Him? "Me?"
"Of course. Who else?" It stared at him. Only him. A shapeshifting force of nature the size of a planet with two inner eyes, an eclipse that saw him as a shadow—and it was looking only at him.
Weakly, he said, "I'm... the Magister Mentium."
The eclipse thought that over. Its tone was a tad dubious and not terribly impressed (why should it be impressed? he was embarrassed at himself for giving his silly puffed-up title)—but it said, "Yes, I suppose that's true. I am the Axolotl. It's been a pleasure meeting you." It began to shapeshift again—its eyes slid sideways through its body, until one reached its perimeter and disappeared.
It dawned on the triangle, in its first immature understanding of third dimensional objects, that its eye had disappeared because the Axolotl was turning away. "Wait!" he cried. "Why..." Why answer him? Why focused on him so completely, if he was just a shadow? Why ask who he was like he mattered? He didn't even know how to put those questions to words in his own mind, much less out loud. "Why are you here so early?"
The Axolotl turned back to the triangle. "Oh! I had to go back for some documents I forgot at the office. Big case in the morning," it said. "You shadows know my schedule?"
"You... pass in front of the sun."
The Axolotl turned away, eyes disappearing and frills fluttering, to look at the sun. "So I do! How funny." It turned toward the triangle and gave him a strange, grotesque look that—by the tone of its psychic voice—he suspected was a smile. "I must get going. I'll be heading into the office a few hours late tomorrow, but perhaps I'll see you again then." And it turned away. It felt like it took forever for the enormous body to sail over-not-north-of the triangle—and pass, at last, out of the sun's path.
The triangle didn't look down-but-not-south until someone shook his side—his father. He lowered his dazed gaze to the crowd—the cheering, applauding crowd. Ma-gi-ster, Ma-gi-ster. A sea of multicolor confetti shapes that filled the air to the horizon.
Shadows.
His father shook him again—"Go on, say something. They're waiting"—and the triangle held up his mic as though he were in a dream. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say. "I was right," he said flatly. "Just like I always told you. I can see the third dimension. The realm of dreams—of colors, of light, and..." The lies left a sick taste in the back of his eye. He couldn't say them. Points of light in darkness and pink nightmares.
"I'm s— You'll all have to excuse me," he said, his voice childish and small. "I can't—I've had a... a... profound... spiritual experience. I must meditate on the revelations I've received." The words felt like woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. "The next eclipse will be a few months after the new year." It seemed important, for some reason, to pass that information on. Wasn't that what he always said he did? Share the wisdom of third dimensional spirits with his followers? "I... have to go now."
His father took his elbow. "This is your moment," he whispered. "Come on, son—you don't want to lose your chance to speak directly to them, do you?"
He shoved the microphone in his father's side. "You speak to them."
"But—"
"I can't," he said. "I can't."
He cut through the crowd as fast as it would part for him—if they were any slower, he'd have started stabbing his way through—haunted the whole way by their applause.
####
And that was it.
From the Axolotl's perspective, he had just had a brief pleasant exchange with a precocious tadpole in a sidewalk puddle.
From the triangle's perspective, he might as well have been standing on the boat deck watching as Cthulhu rose from his millennia of dead slumber at the bottom of the ocean, turned to the fragile vessel bobbing on the waves, and said, "Good morning! Glorious weather we're having, isn't it?"
And from the perspective of the Higher Dimensional Gate, their Magister Mentium had predicted an eclipse, been rightfully insulted when it didn't come the exact second he ordered it, and furiously summoned down an eclipse darker and swifter and longer than any in recorded history.
Up until then, he had been seen as, at best, an oracle. A prophet. A messenger to share the secrets of the third dimension, but that was all he could do. But now, he had commanded forces in an unseen dimension, creating an eclipse months before it was natural. He had made it flicker on and off like he had his finger on the sun's light switch. News reports and the most unimpeachable scientific authorities reported that the eclipse had centered on the location of the Higher Dimensional Gate rally, narrowed down to an inexplicably small radius around that point, and then remained unchanged for several long minutes, long enough for anyone in its shadow to grow fatigued from the missing sunshine. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It defied every known fact about the science of eclipses.
People around the gathering—even people who had known nothing about the Higher Dimensional Gate rally—reported that during the eclipse, they'd become inexplicably disoriented, unable to tell compass directions, and had felt themselves fall toward the darkness—as if gravity's pull had suddenly moved from the south to the epicenter of the eclipse. Public building inspections confirmed that somehow the entire town had shifted, ever so slightly, closer to the epicenter. Closer to the Magister.
Never mind prophecy; as far as the Magister's rapidly-increasing followers were concerned, he might have been a god.
It was the greatest triumph a baby cult leader could ask for.
He barely noticed.
####
For days, he could hardly sleep, speak, or think. He kept losing track of conversations to stare into space. Now, it awed his followers when his eye turned an empty white—he must have been communing with something in a higher dimension.
He didn't argue. It was better than letting them know he was losing his mind.
He spent his time alone locked in his room, pacing back and forth, trying not to look up-but-not-north and failing. Dwelling on the significance of it all. Feeling like he'd never figure it out.
He used to love cosmic horror stories, back when he had time to read. They followed a reliable pattern: the hero travels farther than any rational shape ever should, meets something big, and goes mad from the realization.
And what was it that the hero always realized? That he was a dust fleck in the firmament. That he was insignificant. That he didn't matter. That there were things out there he'd never seen before and would never truly understand, and that they cared not for mere shadows on the wall like him, and that in the grand scheme of the cosmos he was nothing. That he was utterly unimportant.
In moments of what felt like lucidity in between the shivering horror, the triangle  wryly acknowledged that it was no surprise he'd ended up in a cosmic horror story. He could see into another dimension. In the stories he'd read, that made it all but inevitable.
But all the authors had gotten the maddening revelation wrong. He could have handled knowing he was nothing. It almost would have been a relief. 
True horror was knowing he mattered.
He'd spent the majority of his young life selling the idea that he was oh-so-important, as part of a big con to trick gullible idiots into liking him and flinging cash at his rotten undeserving family—and he'd only been able to do it because when the guilt got to him, when his conscience asked what would become of the shapes forking over their life savings on false promises of divine secrets, he could look out into bleak black space and tell himself that nothing really mattered, nothing was important, nothing he'd ever do would really make a difference, and the people he manipulated didn't matter any more than he did. He meant everything to his worshipers, and nothing to the universe. He could do anything and it didn't matter.
For a moment, a vast mind-melting shape-shifting incomprehensible eldritch god had focused its full attention on him—of all the universe, of all the dimensions beyond the known universe, it had looked at him and only him—a mere shadow on the wall, and yet in that moment, it found him interesting. It found him worthy of notice. He had screamed into the cold uncaring void, and the void had cared. For a moment, he'd held cosmic importance. He mattered. His actions mattered.
He'd felt it see him as important, but why? What was so important about him? There had to have been something significant he'd done, something he showed it, something in what he said. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over and over and over, trying to remember what he'd done that proved he mattered.
He didn't know what it was. He couldn't find it. All he could remember was just... being.
The writers were wrong. Cosmic horror wasn't when an elder god's eyes slid past you without noticing you existed. It was when the elder god gazed down at you at your lowest and bleakest, during your most petty and selfish act of mass swindling, from a dimension where not even slamming the door and shutting your eye could shield you from its gaze—and it decided you were worth caring about. Cosmic horror was when you encountered a colossal alien that planted the incomprehensibly alien idea in your head that you had an inherent worth just because you existed. Cosmic horror was when a force of nature asked the name of a shadow on the wall.
If it was true... if it all mattered... then what was he doing? How could he? What had he done?
####
He was lucky—he was lucky that his parents had raised him to think so clearly about issues like morality and money and easy marks. His only saving grace was that he was too rational to seriously entertain the Axolotl's mad ideas.
And yet, his mind boiled with mad regret. It blazed with insane guilt. The heat of it could burn him out. It was months before he could continue his public sermons without feeling sick—and even once he did, he could still feel the delusion that what he did mattered, festering in his mind.
It would fester for the next trillion years.
####
(And that concludes this plot arc! I hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'd love to hear what y'all thought of the whole thing—especially now that we've looped back to the original eclipse. 😁)
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jqnehr · 2 days
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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
masterlist.
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"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
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© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
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pinkyqil · 3 days
Text
I'm sorry
Lucy bronze x ona batlle x r
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Summary: childhood bestfriend to lovers to strangers
Warning: just toxic bestfriend, jealousy issues to many spelling mistakes for me too care for at this point in life
You and Lucy had always been together 24/7 has you both grew-up together like the childhood friends you're. Never letting go of one another. Always following each other, most people would think that you both were together.
"You've always felt attracted to lucy. Because of the way she treats you, always taking care of you getting the stuff she knows you'll need and most of all dealing with your massive sassy princess attitude.
Back in 2020 where she played for Manchester city around the covid out-break. You both decided to moving in together, always needing each other's company. After a while of living with lucy she finally confessed her feelings which you felt the same way.
Making you both finally official has most of your friends have been anticipating the moment.
You and lucy relationship had been going amazing. a little fights here and there but nothing to serious that would go way too far. Until she announced that she'll be leaving to play for Barcelona meaning you'll both have to do long distance until she comes for break or international duties.
Which you were okay with until now you've both been arguing way more recently all you ever wanted was for her to make more time on her busy schedule but she couldn't has they've been having game after game. Making you upset which would start random yelling match from the phone's.
"Another yelling match". said ona
lucy and ona had gotten really close for the past months. that she been playing for barca has she was found by her in the locker room crying from one of your arguments. Since then they've both gotten really close
"Yeah it just getting way worse and I don't think I know what to do".lucy said
"lucia I think we both know what you need to do" replied ona.
"but ona you know I can't I love her too much to do that she's been through everything with me all I want is to is too fix the holes in our relationship but nothing seems to work".
"I know but you can't keep pushing it like that do what best for both of you". ona told her while holding her hands.
That night you got a call from lucy which you weren't expecting.
cause it would have been really late for lucy which meant she was definitely up thinking about something but what she told you honestly couldn't comprehend.
She was breaking up with you over the phone from 1,137.96 kilometers away from each other that night you cried your heart out from the heavy feelings to now feeling empty.
You lost the love of your life the person that made you smile gave you whatever you needed that assisted you without asking you lost her.
And now feeling broken pices that no one could ever pick up again you hated this banging pain.
It been months since you're break up with lucy some people could've seen it from a distance but other's likewise.
it came shocking to both families who were sure that you both would have worked it out and get married in the future.
But they were wrong cause now she was with ona.
Ona is a pure soul nothing compare to you. you've tried hating her but couldn't the girl was way to nice for her own sake everyone around her loved her which you couldn't get that much what was so special about her but not you.
The last time you saw Lucy was around her vist back to england but instead of as lover you both we're now mere strangers who were once deeply inlove.
A/n : this has honestly sleeping in my drafts for the longest of time and I just got it done there's probably a lot of mistakes cause it wasn't proof read yet but other than that hope y'all enjoy this and don't forget that my request are open
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tinalbion · 2 days
Text
"You Reap What You Sow" ||
Part 2
𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x fem!Reader
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Mentions of death, decapitation, abuse (physical and mental), implied (but not mentioned) sexual abuse, manipulation
𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4.5k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had a bounty on your head and a familiar Ghoul has taken that bounty, so upon catching you, he escorts you back to the compound you escaped. Will you be able to convince him to let you go, or will it be for nothing?
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!
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You were already exhausted with the sun so high up, causing your skin to feel as if it was melting, but you continued to make your way through the wastes beside your bounty hunter friend, and he hadn't been in a particularly friendly mood today. When you tried to ask him something, you were mostly met with silence, so you just dropped it altogether and continued to walk. As the sun began to sink again, you had distanced yourself from the Ghoul, wishing you had more of a plan to escape from his hold. 
Sure, he hadn't tied your hands together and pulled you along forcefully since you'd given him no reason to, but that didn't mean he wouldn't end up doing so at one point or another. He still kept a watchful eye on you and made sure to match your pace, ready for anything that was to happen. 
But neither of you was prepared for when two strange men approached you both from the left, catching you off guard as you hid behind the Ghoul for safety. He looked down at you, confused as to why you'd seek comfort and safety from him, but he hadn't given you a reason not to. 
“‘Scuse me, but we want that,” one of the men, the taller one, pointed directly at you. “Heard there was a bounty on her, and we ain't one to turn down some caps.”
The Ghoul scoffed and stared at them, obviously not amused. “She's already taken, as you can see, and I ain't got time to deal with lowlifes such as yourselves. Finders keepers.”
You tugged on the sleeve of his decaying duster and caught his attention. “Those two belong to the Condemned, the compound Axton is a part of, where I ran from. He probably sent them to kill you since you brought me this far, keep the money for himself…” You wouldn't have put it past the asshole, but You did recognize the two men even though you couldn't place their names or occupations. 
Upon hearing this new information, the Ghoul lifted his head and stared at the two men, reading the situation. “Well, my little friend here says you work for the asshole who put the bounty out, and I normally  don't have a problem with disposin’ of those who stand in my way, but now I feel downright disrespected with what's goin’ on here.” He placed his hand gently on the hilt of the gun and watched them both start acting nervous, their eyes darting back and forth from each other to the bounty hunter. 
“Look, either way, Axton is getting his little whore back, so–”
With speed you'd never experienced firsthand before, the man's head had exploded. Blood, brain matter, it all shot out and projected far as his now lifeless body crumpled to the ground. You jumped, your hands still holding onto the Ghoul's coat as his gun shifted over toward the other man. 
“Now, you got somethin’ to say against all this, or are you gonna run back to your compound and tell your man Axton that I better get what I'm owed?”
The man looked terrified and slunk back until the Ghoul had placed his gun back into its holster, then he looked down at you. “You're okay, girl, stand up,” he instructed, and you obeyed him. “C’mon, let's get you back before anything else decides to irritate me.”
You stuck close to the bounty hunter and although you could have easily done that yourself, the fear of seeing people that were under his pay, people that you've seen speaking with him, it caused you to freeze in the moment you needed to be clear-headed. As silly as it seemed, this man who was going to turn you back to where you ran felt like more of a safer option. 
“Mister Bounty Hunter… please, I'd rather not be given back to him…” You said, your expression was sullen. 
“Look, sweetheart, I ain't got much of an option right now, these chems you see me inhalin’? These keep me from goin’ feral, you understand? And that's where the bounty comes in, a man’s gotta survive one way or another. I got more important things to worry about right now, as awful as your situation is.”
You did understand, you wished you could have done something to make both your lives easier, but there was only one way to do that, and it would be easier said than done. Before you spoke up further about it, you felt a hard tug at your ankle and you went flying to the ground. 
You fell hard and let out a yelp, the Ghoul spun around and watched as the man who you both thought retreated had roped you by your ankle and was struggling to completely bind your legs together. You had been thrashing around, kicking and screaming at the man as you landed your foot against his jaw, but he reacted quickly and punched you in return. You were slightly stunned, but you had thrown your bag off your back and reached for the pistol in your pack, then shot him square in the neck. There would be no time wasted, you weren't one to take it lying down anymore. 
The Ghoul had stared at the scene in interest, a smile grew across his face as he walked over and rolled the limp body off your legs. “Well, seems like you're a little killer, huh?” He chuckled and removed his knife from its sheath, then cut you free of your half-tied bindings with one quick thrust of the knife upward. 
“I do what I can to get by, much like yourself,” you said, your voice a little shaky. “Thanks…” You stood up and dusted yourself off, then looked around before you grabbed your bag, gun still in your hand. 
“You're a curious one, you know that?” The Ghoul said, staring over at you. When you didn't answer and only greeted him with a puzzled look, he scoffed. “Had a gun the whole time and you didn't think to use it on me?” 
You looked away and slid your pack on, then you looked back at him. “Told you, I don't got a shot against you.” 
This made him laugh, he let out a belt of laughter and shook his head. “Been on this  planet for over 200 years and yet I can still be surprised.” 
His back faced away from the seemingly dead merc, but you took notice of the movement a little too late. The man lashed out toward the Ghoul, but you leaped at him and pushed him out of the way, your gun still in your hand, but the way the man threw himself had knocked you back. He plunged a knife deep into your shoulder, and you let out a howl of pain.
“Can't wait to see what he does to you, you bi–”
You brought your gun up to his head and blasted him. He dropped heavily into your lap, his blood splattered all over you, the ground, and your gun. 
You were shaking as the Ghoul got you to your feet, but you clung to him as if your life depended on it, you were just so tired of Axton and the bullshit he constantly put you through, and it finally caught up to you. You sobbed as you buried your face against your captor's chest, just wanting to live a life without Axton, but he'd haunt you until one of you died. 
“I'm sorry,” you groaned, the knife still lodged into your shoulder as you bit your lip. “Dammit.” You sniffled, wiped your face, and slid your pack off your shoulder carefully, hoping not to aggravate your wound. 
“Why’d you do that?”
“What, kill him?” You asked in confusion, tears still welling in your eyes while you dug for a stimpack. 
The Ghoul scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “You pushed me out of the way, you fool,” he admonished. “You ain't got healing like I do, why'd you do somethin’ so stupid?” He placed some pressure on your wound and grabbed the stimpack from your shaking hand. “Breathe in,” he instructed. 
You did as he told you and that's when he administered the stimpack, then you winced at the pain of him pulling the knife out, but immediately holding the wound to slow the bleeding. You looked up at him with a small smile despite all that. “Thanks.”
“Don't pull nothin’ like that again, you hear me?” He began to help you dress the wound as expertly as he could, though he was a tad rusty with having to deal with mortal wounds. 
“What, you'll still get paid regardless. I'm only gonna get worse when I'm back there…” You looked down at the ground and felt the closeness you both shared, but you didn't comment on it. 
He was the first to pull away, but it took him longer than expected. “Come on,” he urged. He had nothing more to say, he had to think. 
More time had passed and you finally stood before the poorly constructed walls of the compound, and you were visibly distraught. “Mister, please,” you said as you turned toward him. You were no longer afraid to release the tears that threatened to fall. “I can't, you saw just a small sliver of what he's capable of, he will beat me senselessly, string me up. I just wanted freedom…” You looked back at the compound and tried your best to remain composed. “What if we take them out? All of them? I know the combination to his safe, I know where everything is stashed, I could help you.”
The Ghoul stood there in silence, listening to your words, words of desperation and bargaining. And as much as he wanted to simply ignore it, he knew he couldn't. Not anymore. You'd stuck your neck out for him, you'd not given him any trouble as he escorted you back, and somehow you managed to grow on him. How, he had no idea, but the sound of killing all these bastards seemed more than satisfactory. Killing them all so they didn't hurt anyone else like you, take their earnings, it all seemed fair, especially after sending someone to take him out and keep the caps for themselves. 
“Even if I were to entertain the idea, sweetheart, there ain't a guarantee you'll make it out of there. I can handle gunshots, you're gonna be a walkin’ corpse riddled with holes.” 
“I know their shifts. I paid attention when I was keeping track of when and who would be where. I can make it happen, I promise. Just please, help me take them down and you can help yourself to whatever you want.” 
The Ghoul looked away from you and brought his attention back to the compound, his eyes stared into the area as he mulled over your words. He let out a sigh, hung his head, and smiled a little. He was going to do this for a smoothie, a human, and for what? Maybe it didn't sit well with him that you took a stab wound for him, that he felt like he owed you for something you didn't need to throw your life on the line for. After what seemed like a good, long while, he turned back to you and sighed. His eyes wandered over your face as he recalled his past, something he tried not to do regularly, and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. 
Again, he just sighed. “You better come through, you hear?” He warned, his hand raised and his finger pointed at you. “But if anythin’ happens, I ’spose you could call me Cooper…”
Your eyes lit up and you stared at him in awe. “Like…Cooper Howard…?” You gasped and smiled so wide you thought your cheeks would hurt. 
He scoffed. “Yeah, that's me, just don't go tellin’ people, you understand?” 
With a burst of excitement and a lapse in judgment, you threw your arms around him despite feeling the sting of your wound, and you hugged him. He didn't realize how big of a deal this was to you, your heart soared with delight at the news, and it was almost like an old part of your life was here, comforting you in tough times. “Oh, I'm definitely loving our chances now.”
The Ghoul just sighed and patted your shoulder awkwardly, wanting to support you in his change of heart. “I hope I don’t regret this…” he whispered to himself.
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The ringing in your ears was causing you to squeeze your eyes closed as you tried to focus on anything other than the sound, but it gradually increased and you did your best to try and remain out of the crossfire as you hid behind one of the walls inside the compound. 
You and Cooper had gotten halfway through the building already, both of you easily working together when it came to taking down the men you knew so well, but you felt nothing except a growing sense of freedom the more men fell. You'd grown up with a lot of them, sure, but none of that mattered once they had begun to follow Axton's orders and put you in harm's way. You wouldn't admit to it, but the satisfaction you felt when they would fall to the ground as they bled out almost was too wicked for you to take any joy in, but deep down, you relished it. 
According to your memory, you and Cooper had taken down about fifteen of them so far, and you only had fifteen– bang– fourteen more to go. Axton would be holed up in his pathetic excuse of a ‘panic room’, which you knew the code to, so he'd be the best to save for last. You peeked around the corner, your pistol in hand as you looked for any more on this floor. 
“I think they're all running up to protect their stash now, they're gonna be crowded in a room on the top floor. Axton would want all his riches to be the top priority, the greedy bastard.” You stepped out and pushed on with the Ghoul right beside you, following your lead as you guided him through the compound. 
“There any coverage between us and that door?” He asked, his gun still raised as he looked over at you. 
“Yeah, there's a double wall up there, no doors,” you replied and paused when you saw someone cowering in the corner. You gasped and ran to that person with a relieved expression. 
“Oh my gosh, Toby?” You knelt beside them and placed a hand on their shoulder. 
Cooper was about to interject, afraid to take up too much time dwelling on checking on survivors, but the person known as Toby looked up at you and their expression was shocked. It was a Ghoul, just like him; not yet feral. Toby smiled and stood up, greeting you with a tight hug. 
“Oh, you're back, you're back! I thought you would have been killed, or worse!” Toby sobbed as they hugged you, pulling you tighter and tighter. 
“Toby, you have to get out of here, go outside the compound, and stay hidden till we come out.”
“You're doing it, aren't you, you're finally taking him down?” The Ghoul looked relieved and terrified, and yet the smile that spread across their face spoke volumes. 
You smiled in return and nodded. “Yeah, Cooper and I are, now come on, go, I'll find you after, okay?” You gave him one last hug and pushed on with Cooper by your side. 
You'd finally made it to the last floor, and you were both greeted with heavy gunfire. You pressed back against the wall with Cooper on the other side, and he looked at you as he counted down on his fingers from five. After it ended, he spun toward the door and just began to blast the mercenaries, all shots landing where they were supposed to. You followed in behind him and tried to keep up, taking down any stragglers with your pistol as you kept it aimed high. Whenever you shot another, they'd look at you in horror, realizing that you were finally fighting back. Some of them seemed to know it would have happened eventually, others seemed betrayed that it was you, but you wore the same expression as you gunned them down. 
Remorseless.
You’d been counting down, naming each one of the men in Axton’s employ as you shot them, remembering their faces, recalling all the times they’d done you wrong. With each bullet put into them, you felt lighter, a heavy burden was released from your shoulders. But you knew you needed to get to your main problem before you would feel any semblance of comfort. But now that you thought about it, you felt comfort being here with Cooper, which was an odd thing to say considering he was there initially to bring you back to this hellhole. But you’d both grown on each other, though he would never admit to it, but you hoped that he would after all was said and done. 
Once the last man had fallen from a shot to his leg, Cooper walked up to him as he crawled away, then stepped on the wound and stepped down hard, and he laughed as the blood came pouring from the wound while the man cried out. The Ghoul didn’t let up as he leaned closer to the man.
“So cowpoke, where’s your boy, Axton, huh?” 
The man who you knew as Luther had looked up, horrified to see the hand cannon he held pointed directly at his face. “L-L-Look, he’s in there,” he pointed to the right where his room had been, “I don’t got nothin’ to do with what he did to her! I swear!”
Cooper looked over at you for confirmation, but you looked away from him, your face filled with unwanted recalled memories. All of his men stood by and turned a blind eye to the things he’d done to you and many others, you wouldn’t soon forget. Cooper turned back to the bleeding man and smirked slyly.
“Seems that she says otherwise, partner, guess it ain’t your lucky day,” he said with a faux frown as he raised the gun to his head and shot without hesitation. He walked back to you and stood beside you, looking at you in silence for a moment. “You ready to take on this son of a bitch?”
You swung your pack around and dug for your box of ammo, filled your gun, and then looked into the Ghoul’s eyes. “I’ve been ready. But you gotta be careful, he’ll have heavy weapons on him, so don’t let him get you off guard.”
“You don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart, I think I already established that.” He reached a gloved hand toward your face, and it lingered there for a moment as it hovered near your cheek. Cooper decided against it and sighed, then looked back in the direction of the room.
You wondered what he wanted to say to you, but maybe it wasn't something meant for right now, instead, you two had something to deal with. You walked toward the room and typed in the code you distinctly memorized despite not being allowed inside, and the door swung open to reveal Axton with a large turbo Plasma rifle, the only one in his collection. He pointed it directly at you with a smile on his face. 
“Shoulda known it was you,” he scoffed. “After all I gave you here, a place to stay, food to eat, safety?”
“You didn't give me anything other than scars inside and out,” you spat back. “You had this coming, whether it was from me or someone else. You get what you get.”
His eyes darted to the Ghoul and he let out hearty laughter. “Oh, this is even better, what, employing a Ghoul to help you? Always were obsessed with them.”
“They're friends! Toby is my friend!” You yelled and shot off a round straight at him, but he immediately dropped and dodged it before it could hit him. He just laughed at you and shook his head.
“Always were a lousy shot. So, Ghoul, she employed you, promise you that you'd get whatever you want in here?” He waved around the room and scoffed again. “She lied. She ain't shit, and neither are you.”
“Well, actually…” Cooper said with a playful smile on his face, “I was the bounty hunter who planned on turnin’ her in but after seein’ so much of who you are? Gotta hand it to the little lady, I ain't impressed with how this is goin’.”
Axton just laughed and shook his head. “Oh, so you're betraying me, too? Damn, what did she do, give it up to you to get you to change your mind–”
Cooper let off a shot that hit him in the shoulder and blood spurted out, but he didn't go down, not yet. “Better watch your mouth, boy,” he warned. 
Axton groaned but laughed and shook his head. “Oh man, she did, didn't she?! It's all she's good at anyway.”
“Enough!” You screamed out as you began shooting at him, not taking into account that you should have kept a level head of things. You tried to hit him, but he shot the plasma rifle at your feet, which caused you to stumble back and fall on your ass. 
Axton laughed and grabbed a pistol, then aimed at you to finally silence you, but Cooper easily shot it out of his hand, causing it to stumble and fly off somewhere. He ran up on the man and slammed his foot hard into his stomach, and Axton lost his footing and fell. Cooper didn't give him time to recover, instead, he ran up and kicked him again, this time across the jaw. 
Axton let out a yell and spat blood out onto the floor, but he was just laughing, and as he looked back at you, sneering. “You think this is gonna make things better? I own you,” he said as he pointed at you, “and you ain't gonna finish this.”
“She might not, but I will,” Cooper said as he held his hand cannon up to his head. 
“No!” You shouted, your hand reaching out toward him as you stared at the Ghoul. Your face was soft as you looked at him, and sure you hadn't known him long, but the lengths he was going to just to protect you… it meant more to you than you could put into words. you walked up to Cooper, who stared over at you quizzically. “I wanna do it.” 
Axton just laughed again. “You're gonna do it? Better off letting the Ghoul do it.”
You swung your gun around toward him and aimed directly at his forehead as he sat on the ground, trying his best to pick up his pride. “I don't need anyone to do my job for me, Axton, you think I'm weak? But I'm not, I've taken out more of your men than you've taken out bounties. I'm better than you in every way.” 
This got the man howling in laughter as he sat there below you, staring up at your gun. He felt that you wouldn't do a damn thing, and you would just fall for his ways again. You would let him live and he'd take you as his captor once again. “Sure, sweetheart, whatever lies you fed yourself, you can keep on believing them all I know is I'm gonna fucking  kill you–”
Your finger pulled back, the explosion of his head and brain matter splattered everywhere, and his body fell back. No more words, no more threats, no more danger. You stared at the man who once beat you, hurt you, did unspeakable things to you, and you finally felt that weight release from your shoulders. Your body suddenly felt weak, you stumbled and almost fell, but Cooper was there in an instant. His arms enveloped you as he lowered you to the ground so you could take a moment. 
You stared down at him and huffed. “Only he can call me that,” you spat and continued to stare down at him.
Your eyes didn't leave the scene of Axton's decapitated body, it felt too good to be true, like a sick dream that you'd wake up from. But your companion placed a hand on your cheek, pulling your attention away from the gruesome scene and made you face him. There was contentment in the way you looked up at Cooper, a small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you stared up at him. 
“I did that, right?” You asked him in disbelief.
Cooper gave you a small smile. “Yeah, you did ya little killer, c’mon, let’s get you out of here.”
“What about your pay? There are chems too, you’re gonna need those, please, get what you need. I’ll be okay… I’ll sit over here, you grab all of what you can.” You wandered over to the corner and sat down on the floor, away from the large pool of blood slowly making its way around. 
You waited for Cooper to grab all that he could and gathered a large amount of chems, caps, and whatever else he could fit into his pack, then he sauntered up to you and grabbed your hand to pull you to your feet. “Alright then, I got all I could hold, got some for you too, you ready?”
You looked over at him and seemed taken off guard by his question. “What do you mean?” 
“Well, are you comin’ with me or not? Didn’t think you’d wanna stay here.”
Your eyes stared at him for a good while, but you weren’t sure what to say now that you were here, and now you had the opportunity to leave. “Really? You’d want me to go with you?” You asked softly. 
Cooper scoffed and looked off at the destruction you both caused. “I ain’t gonna leave you here alone, sweetheart. Not gonna lie, you’ve grown on me, and as much as I’ve done in this lifetime, I ain’t that much of a monster.”
You couldn’t help but laugh and look around the room, then back at him. “I guess that’s the best choice I could ever ask for, huh?” You asked softly, smiling wide. “So… you really mean it?”
Cooper turned around and shook his head with a smirk. “I mean if you’d rather stay here, then-”
You grabbed him and pulled at his shoulder, causing him to turn to face you. He looked surprised, but his eyes widened when you pulled him into a soft kiss. He didn’t pull away, he just stared at you as you pulled away from him, but you seemed much more reserved now. 
“Sorry… but yeah, let’s get going, if that’s still on the table…”
The Ghoul just laughed and reached up to ruffle your hair. “Well, it ain’t all canned peaches and marmalade up here, but I ‘spose havin’ you as company will lighten it up a little.”
You placed your gun in your pack and sighed as you slipped it over your shoulder, but the smile you wore after kissing Cooper was one that you’d wear for quite a while. “I think I can agree with that.”  
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waywardcrow · 1 day
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I’m back!!! Kind of 😅. I loved this request and this is my first Natasha fic so I loved it more, this was written very quick so please excuse any mistakes.
You felt out of place, you probably should go back to your lab and forget all about this but you couldn't. Natasha came back after a month long mission and you missed her, besides she looked different.
It was hard to tell what was it but for some reason you knew, something was off.
After making a quick stop in the kitchen, you went straight to Nat's office, knocking the door softly but it was too late, you saw her wipe her eyes.
"I- hi, I, sorry" you mumbled, embarassment for you and concern for her twisting your stomach "I brought you hot chocolate"
The readhead spy cleared her throat, taking control of her features and just like that, all the vulnerability vanished.
"Thanks, sweetheart"
She took the cup in her pale hands and it was very hard to don't get close to her to give her a hug.
"Are you ok?"
"Of course" her answer, fast and short, made you wince.
"The mission-" you started but Natasha got up from the chair, avoiding your gaze.
"I have to go" she said, taking her things to leave you there, feeling like an idiot.
A few days after that, you still felt bad. Who did you think you were? Going to the Natasha Romanoff and act like you were friends? Sure, she was nice to you every time she came to the lab to visit Tony but that was it, you were the one who had a hopeless crush on her and now she probably would never speak to you again.
"You should go home, cricket" your boss reminded you.
"Say the pot to the kettle or whatever"
Tony laughed at your sleep deprived response but when he was about to say something else, he saw a certain someone in the door.
"You know what, you are right, night cricket"
And he left, making sure you were busy with your notes and sending a wink to Natasha.
"You should listen to him" were the first words the readhead said, making you yell "didn't mean to scare you, sweetheart"
"No, I'm fine, I just didn't hear you come in"
Taking in her appareance, your anxiety rocketed. Nat was wearing one of your favorite hoodies and leggins, her hair braided to keep it out of the way. She looked beautiful as always but it was almost like she was ready to run away at any moment.
"I wanted to check on you, I haven't see you in a couple days"
Turning in your seat to see her better, you took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, for the other day. I didn't want to intrude" you started but Nat closed the distance between you two.
"Please don't apologize, sweetheart" she sat on your desk, making your heart beat out of tune "you did nothing wrong"
"I- I saw you crying" you mentally slapped yourself after the words left your mouth, what the hell was happening go you?
Natasha pursed her lips and in that moment you were sure she would leave again but instead of that, she looked at her hands.
"There was a problem, with the mission" she said and this time you didn't stop yourself to reach for her.
"Do you- do you want to talk about it?"
Natasha looked at your hands together and sighed.
"Not yet, maybe later" with tenderness, she put her other hand on top of yours "what I mean with this is, I don't want to push you away, not you"
Were you dreaming? Was she saying what you think she was saying? It was impossible. But with the hint of honesty in her green eyes it was hard to doubt her.
"Then don't" you whispered with hope in your voice "I'm here"
A tiny yet beautiful smile appeared on her lips, maybe she wasn't ready to be herself completely with someone else but for you, she will try.
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dropthedemiurge · 3 days
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Second part of my translation comments (and half meta) for Gray Shelter [Episode 5], you can find the first post here!
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"You gave the choice/decision to me, didn't you? (reference to the earlier scene)" "So your decision is to give me some money and tell me to get out of your sight?"
꺼져 is quite a rude word, like 'get the hell away from me', Yoondae is clearly pissed rephrasing/interpreting Soohyuk's intentions, he's using informal tone too
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"Because I live like this? Because I idle/fool around here and there without doing anything, not able to get myself together (cannot get a grip on myself and my life)? Because you still see me as a child?!" "Yes. That's why I'm confused. Because it doesn't matter who is by your side (anyone will do), right?" "And (what's the problem)? You can be by my side. Why is everything so complicated for you? Just... (in softest pleading voice) ...Watch me. I will live like all the other people. Then it'll all be good (it's solved), no? You can watch over me while being by my side. Mmhm? Don't care about the situation, once again I'm telling you, just look only right at me."
I actually really like the usage of 'focus on me' in all the sentences because the translator keeps the leitmotif and it works in all contexts, the entire conversation was translated nicely. Even "- What's the most difficult thing about me and this situation for you? - That I'm your home (the place you return to now)."
I just gave you more literal translation... idk, for fun xD Maybe you'll catch more nuances that I tried to put in here. It's just devastating. Soohyuk sees and feels that Yoondae is clinging to him like to a lifeline, and he doesn't want to be one, he's got enough of people burdening him, his life is hard enough.
He tried to think simply like Yoondae and just live in the moment, give in to his impulses as well, but he just can't. He's sinking on his own and he can't chain himself to another person because even if he's a safe place for Yoondae, he won't be able to save him in this situation, it means they'll both drown. Yoondae has to find his own ground to stand on, he has to get a grip and find a new home on his own so he won't circle his entire life and attention on Soohyuk. Only then it'll work.
"If I find another home, can I call you? You won't avoid me then?"
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They don't kiss here – they can't. It won't work. But such short distance is a promise, it's a possible future happy ending hanging between them both like a life vest and a heavy rock.
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I'm not sure he means it as 'we get together again'. More like
"If we meet again, will we become okay?"
Like, they agreed it won't work out now, they need some time, and Yoondae now will be holding onto that hope that Soohyuk might accept him and his feelings once Yoondae finds his own home, his own meaning in life. But he's still afraid it won't happen, that's why he needs to hear some affirmation. Will things between them become alright (and the fact that he doesn't really say 'better' or 'good', he uses 괜찮다 - fine, alright, okay and asks if they will be able to even reach that). Which means they both know their relationship is less than 'okay' now.
And in a very Gray Shelter melancholic satisfying-unsatisfying way, Soohyuk only replies: "It'd at least be better than now."
That's the only thing Yoondae is left with. This, and a daring request to pretend he didn't steal that goodbye kiss.
And we're getting a time skip which starts on a sound of a ringing telephone. ("If I find another home, can I call you? ) And surprisingly, it doesn't seem that Yoondae is the one calling this time, as he wanted to. It seems like Yoondae accepted the call but he wasn't holding it or answering, yet Soohyuk called him and invited him for a dinner and is waiting for the answer. Now, the decision is up to Yoondae.
There is a calendar on the wall but I honestly didn't track if there were any other calendars in the show so we can tell how long was the time skip.
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"Alright. I'll be waiting."
To be honest, in the ending I wished they showed at least one scene of Yoongdae coming home in a work-like uniform or doing something to indicate he started sorting his life out before that call came through. Because even though the ending is hopeful – they lived separately for some time, Yoondae has his own place, Soohyuk is reaching out to spend time with him now and they both agreed their next meeting will be more hopeful – but will it be enough? Was the problem actually solved?
We all should think that yes, but I wish the ending supported it a little bit more confidently. After such a rollercoaster of emotions and complicated situation, I want to see them heading towards the truly happy ending Т_т (give me the second season!)
In any case, the acting is great and the melancholic atmosphere for a BL was so unusual, I loved the edgy dialogues and emotionally raw writing. For such a short story, Gray Shelter certainly will go under many people's radar but it still touched my soul.
And, well, now I understand the title. Soohyuk is a shelter, he shouldn't be a home. Shelter is a place they seek temporarily comfort in when they have nowhere else to go. And it's not a bright happy couple place, and it's not an abusive family house either, gray is neither black nor white. It's something in between, and it's up to Soohyuk and Yoondae to try and build an actual equal bond, have a place to return to and person to eat dinner with.
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crazy-ache · 15 hours
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I'm not sure if you're still doing those, butttt
Bathtub Fic x Sick/Injured or Scars Fic for Elucien 😁
For you…YES!!
Bathtub Fic & Sick/Injured or Scars
For the scene, I am going to take us to the Winter Court. Perhaps it is a part of their journey to Koschei or to explore her Seer powers—early in the relationship, with the barest shreds of trust between them—and somewhere along the travels, they encounter the infamous hot springs of Winter.
Picture mountains and snow and nuzzled deep within the white, icy forests lay natural hot springs. Lucien has been here of course from his emissary days. He explains the benefits and urges Elain that she simply must try out this particular hidden gem—that there is none like it in all of Pythian. She agrees nervously. And her eyes go wide as she watches Lucien begin to strip off all his clothes.
Elain blushed, turning around instantly. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get my clothes wet in this cold and the hot springs are best enjoyed naturally.” Lucien laughed and she could hear him kick off his shoes and pants behind her. Then the sound of water splashing as he entered, quickly followed by a near moan from Lucien’s lips. “Come on, Elain. It’s incredible. I promise I won’t look, lady. On my honor.”
It’s enough to make Elain bite her lip and consider. It did seem incredible. And she had dreamed of traveling the world her entire life. She couldn’t be a coward now that she was here. “Turn around!” She barked her command, and only once her mate confirmed he was indeed facing the other direction with his eyes closed did she begin to undo her dress, stockings, and boots. Without a single article of clothing, she raced into the water before the shivers overtook her body. And indeed it was amazing. A similar relaxed moan tumbled out of her mouth as she sank into the warm, steamy waters.
They were back to back, because Elain didn’t have the courage to do it any different. To bare herself to him. Not with the amount of desire she secretly harbored inside. Even if the water came up right to the swell of her breasts. But even like this, she could sense his smile. His comfort. They talked leisurely and at length. Now that they were finally spending time together, she was caught off guard by how easily he could make her laugh. It was at one particularly wicked joke that her body curved and her skin made contact with his back.
Immediately she felt the scars. Ridges upon ridges of marks across his back. They both flinched instantly. Elain from the surprise and Lucien no doubt from the sorrow and pain embedded deep with every scar.
There’s no other thought except concern surging through her veins as she whips around, breaking her own rules, to face his back. He is frozen, as if he’s been caught. Shame? Elain can’t stop the gasp as she takes in his whipped back. “Who—how—” She is shaking even if the water is so unnaturally hot, leaving her pale skin red with the heat.
“Punishment when I was Under the Mountain.” He answers. Elain reaches for his back, running her fingers across every single mark. He does not move. There’s so much she can see now. The history like a constellation across his shoulder blades and spine. The pain etched in his skin, one of loyalty and bravery and suffering, so much like the matching one on his eye. She can see the corded muscles taut with restraint. The curve of his ass just below the water’s surface. His long molten, red hair curtained over his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. And she means it. She’s sorry for what happened. The primal, visceral part of the mating bond wants to avenge him. Wants to make it as if it never happened. And she’s sorry for all the distance she had once kept between them, when all he had were these scars to keep him company all this time.
Elain wraps her arms around his middle, fingers gliding over the defined abs of his stomach, one hand grazing against the strong, tone muscle of his chest. She kisses his shoulder, right at one of the scars. The another and another and another.
And maybe, just maybe, she’s working up the courage to spin him around and kiss him elsewhere.
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aiku · 3 months
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in theory i love himmel he's literally That Guy even if the hero sword thing said he wasn't like he is Him. his affection towards frieren like everything he did/said to make frieren feel loved for the first time and trying to take care of her even after he's long gone is very romantic and tragic bc she never got to reciprocate while he was alive. i think this is all very sweet bc frieren actually does love him back in her own way (i wouldn't mind if it were platonic love on her side tbh that would be just as powerful to me. but i cannot deny that himmel seems to be more special to her than heiter) but if i think abt this from the perspective of a woman being completely clueless abt love/affection and someone who she did NOT like was doing all this then it would be rly uncomfortable lolll like ew why did you dedicate your entire life to me and trying to haunt me even after your death like that lol. again not to say himmel is problematic or anything i luv him and the ring scene made me teary n in the end he let her do her own thing despite how he felt etc. etc. i'm just saying 😭
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ebbarights · 4 months
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someone tell me to stop being petty pleaseeeee
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tuliptiger · 11 months
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Hiiiii wow I need like at least 5 other people to go and purchase a property together or at least find some cool neighbors near my place. I need a community so bad I am not friend oriented I'm finding out I am not built to make friends and there is something irredeemably fucked up with my brain and person.
I need to be a community guard dog or service dog where I bring everyone newspapers and groceries and they leave me alone or occasionally give me food and say hello across the road. I need to work for others but not indentured or below them, freedom, shared resources and my own space.
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leebrontide · 5 months
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I think one thing we need to address in the US if we want to de-stigmatize multi-generational households that include ADULTS from multiple generations, is that parents need to learn how to have adult relationships with their offspring.
Should my daughter deign to live with me when she's an adult she will not be my some vassal that has to obey my household rules. She graduates into being a peer in setting and managing the boundaries, cleanliness and appearance of our home.
Too many parents want to have relationships with grown ass adults in which the parents maintain control and authority, and in which they leverage money and history to get their way from an adult who, very reasonably, wants to be able to make choices and have influence. And then those parents wonder why their kids keep their distance!
But then people act like I've lost it because I let my 5 year old pick the color of paint in her room- a room I seldom spend time in except to take care of her, and a room in which I want her to be comfortable and happy.
I'm not gonna let her choose a paint color for the kitchen right now, because she's capricious and bad at negotiating so we can pick a color we all like. But when she's an adult, if she's still living here? Why shouldn't she get to influence her environment?
People like to have agency. We limit the agency of children because they make choices without the full ability to understand the results (sorry baby, you are gonna get vaccinated for pollio even if you don't like it. You don't understand pollio).
But limiting an adults choices in their own home, just because you don't think that home should be a real home for them because it's just for you, is kind of an asshole move, to me.
No need to argue with me if you disagree. You can have your own opinion.
But I couldn't treat my kid that way, and I have seen enough to know that not every parent treats their adult children like permanently incompetent interlopers.
I didn't just buy this house for ME. I bought it for MY FAMILY. My baby is my family, and she will be no matter how old she gets.
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exoexid · 1 month
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the suyeol lore is so crazy
#their relationship is so interesting to me like aoughhhh#like you see subaek and even tho they don't talk a lot on camera (most of the time) those two get along so well#they understand and respect each other so much they take their job very seriously and they're actually good friends as a result#suyeol on the other hand is 12 years of slowburn like it's crazyyyyy#you admire him and believe in him like no one else does and then you discover that he isn't that great actually#so you get disappointed and distance yourself and then you both are in this weird limbo for years as you grow up#and slowly but surely you rediscover how your relationship works because both of you are adults now and now we're here#like yeah suhito was stressed back then the context was not great for a leader AND tao was still with exo so lmao pcy could fend for himself#so i get ittttt they were going through it but. i need to know what he said to pcy like oh my god was it really that bad 😭#i wonder if they've ever mentioned it 🤔#writing this bc i just remembered that one time they had to describe e/o and suho was like#“you're my cute dongsaeng i admire your talents so much and oh btw you're not uncomfortable around me these days right? uwu”#LIKE ??? KING YOU CAN'T SAY THAT AND LEAVE US IN THE DARK#(<- they totally can it's not our business lmao)#idolization to tentative ''''enemies'''' to coworkers to friends to good friends is crazy#i need to look into this properly omg let's do some research#anyways i want a subunit :) they can be called exo sc too sehun won't mind bc these are like his favorite people in the world!!!#idk i find the exos and their bond so interesting because you truly have it all with them there's a whole spectrum of friendships#and i appreciate that it's not like with b*s & taegi (if you don't know who they are... let's keep it that way <3)#because those two were just too different to get along. it was extreme. but bighit forced it so much it was painful to see sometimes#and then the hawaii trip came and they painted it like a ''see? after this trip they get along so well now <3'' moment#1. girl let's be serious for a sec 😐 and 2. it's not our business!!!!! focus on making good music!!!!!#i'm so glad exo didn't have to go through something like that bc i just know that they'd have disbanded by now sjfsifjsk#the saranghaja sprite isn't that intense we lovr freedom of choice (keeping in mind that they were under sm) <33333#so YEAH. can you guys tell i can't sleep hehe :)#dara.t#suho and chanyeol
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maiko-san · 3 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 1 )
Part 2 >>>
Relationship : Fluff
Reader : Female, age 20.
Plot : You are one of the Playcare employees that looks after the Smiling Critters and makes sure all the mascots are in good shape.
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The very first day you were assigned to the Playcare, you didn't expect the mascot to be huge and very tall. Hell, even taller than Huggy Wuggy themselves!
You were nervous to be around these mascots but it was your job to keep them at a top notch.
Dogday, the leader of the smiling critters was the first to greet you. His personality is as bright as the sun necklace around his neck.
The others follow his lead and greet you with smiles on their faces, welcoming you to the daycare.
Well, except one.
Which was Catnap.
The purple cat mascot is high up on one of the buildings, watching everything from above and his eyes looking down at you, judging you from afar.
For the first week, you monitor the smiling critters and their behaviours. The others are fine interacting with the children, except for Catnap who prefers to be on his own.
You tried to get the cat to do his job but the mascot refused to listen to you. Which was frustrating.
You were amazed that the technology in place is far more advanced and the mascots in this Playtime Co. have their own personalities like a real person would which was..... intriguing and at the same time.... terrifying.
According to Dogday, Catnap used to be very friendly but he had been distancing himself from the group recently.
He never knows why.
The supervisor told you that Catnap was the most troublesome in the group and they said to keep an eye on the cat and make sure he does his work and doesn't get in any trouble.
It would take time for you to properly work with him. So, you respect the mascot's boundaries and try interacting with him slowly.
Day by day, you make sure to visit him first every time your shift starts. you greet Catnap with a 'Good morning' and 'How are you doing?'.
The cat only stares at you with a swishing tail, you set down a bag of croissants and look up at the mascot.
"Hey, Catnap! If you're hungry, you can have these croissants! Eat it while it's still fresh, okay bud. You can't work with an empty stomach!"
"......"
Again, he just stares at you.
You also learn that these mascots are able to consume organic matter which again shocks you, so you always sneak in some food from the cafe for all the smiling critters, in secret.
The smiling critters began to like you and saw you as their favourite out of all the employees.
Things go on normally in the daycare, the smiling critters keep themselves busy with the children ( that you weren't allow to interact with )
You spend your time in the office and look through the papers. When you were about to take a sip of the hot drink from your cup—
"Hiya, there! Mrs. (L/n)!"
"Oh, f—k!"
You jump out from your seat and some of the hot drink spilled onto your pants causing you to curse under your breath.
It was Dogday.
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!"
The dog apologises for startling you and offers you a handkerchief that magically appears out of thin air.
You said you were alright. You turn to ask what makes Dogday come to your office.
The smiling critter just said he wants to see you, saying to you that you have been coup up in your office for hours now.
You were grateful that he was concerned about you but you told him that the papers kept you busy.
"Sorry, bud. I just have a lot of papers to look through. Ya know, I have to keep all of you in shape"
"I see. Thank you for caring and taking care of us angel........unlike the others—anyways!"
Dogday whispers the last part which cannot be heard clearly by you.
"Do you need help with anything? I'm free! I can help you with everything and as a leader of the Smiling Critters, it is also my job to help you too!"
Dogday offers a helping hand, his tail swishing as he awaits for your answers.
You told him you do need help sorting out the papers into the folders which the dog excitedly said yes.
He sits on the floor next to you, since how tall he is. You point out the paper that he needs to sort out in the correct order.
Dogday have trouble picking up the papers with his large hands. You couldn't help but stifle at the sight, yet he managed to find a way of picking up the paper without crumpling it.
After a few hours passed. The bell rings loudly, signalling it was recess time.
You stretch your limbs and stand up from your chair, you turn to Dogday who already finished sorting out all the papers.
"You did a great job there, Dogday. Thank you!"
"Hehe, no problem Mrs. (L/n)! Glad to help!"
"Just call me, (Y/n). Dogday. No need to be so formal and besides I'm not THAT old..."
"Alright, (Y/n)!"
You yawn escape your mouth as you rub your eye, a nice nap is the only thing that comes to your mind after a long hour of paperwork.
Dogday notices how tired you look.
"A good nap will make you feel energetic afterwards!"
"Yeah, it does. I'm going to the staffroom and sleep there. You can go back to the playcare, Dogday"
But the orange dog didn't leave and instead picks you up which surprises you.
Dogday held you close to his body and said.
"No need! You can sleep here with me!"
His arms wrap around your smaller body, your face buried into his chest and his fur smells like vanilla. Which was comforting....
Before you know it, you already drift off to sleep.
"Sleep well, angel...."
Next day.
Following the same routine, you visit Catnap again but the cat was nowhere in sight.
You call out for the feline and you hear a loud thud behind you. Hot breath tickles your back which causes you to quickly turn around to see the purple cat staring at you with beady white eyes.
You hold out an apple pie to him, which the cat takes and devours with a wide open mouth.
"I want....more"
"Huh?"
"More....sweets..."
It was the first time you heard Catnap speak, his voice was deep and distorted.
You now have learned that Catnap likes sweets. Which gives you quite an advantage over him.
"Yes, you can have more sweets.....If you do your job"
You told the cat which he grunts roughly in return.
"You can request any kind of sweets you want in return, I promise. Just as long you do your job as a play care attendant"
Catnap seemingly thinking about the deal that you had offered to him. The sweets seems to get to him since he never gets to eat such food....
It was tempting and he finally agrees with you.
"Okay..."
With that simple okay, Catnap begins to do his job in the play care to Dogday's delight.
After the shift is over, you give Catnap his sweet treats as you promised.
"Haha! See, it wasn't that hard, right! You did a great job there, Catnap! If you keep doing that, I might bake you a cake!"
You praised the feline mascot with a bright smile. Which causes the feline to look away slightly.
The feeling of praise makes his heart flutter with warmth.....
It was a very long day at work and you bid the smiling critters a good night before you leave the playcare.
Unknown to you, some of the higher ups have noticed how well you do with the Smiling Critters.
You are safe....
For now....
A/n : There will be more interaction with Catnap in the next chapter! I am aware that Catnap is Theo which is a child!
I am not sure who resides in Dogday and he might be one of the employees of the playcare since he knows so much.
Relationship between the three would be fluff. If romance, it could be focused on Dogday maybe...?
Well, it's up to you guys.
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snapscube · 10 months
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so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.
my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.
obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.
of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.
and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!
sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.
this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.
also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.
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clan-ackerman · 1 month
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-----mdni-----
------18+-----
🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸
Human!Alastor x f!reader
blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot
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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.
"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.
"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.
"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:
"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."
"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.
"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.
"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.
"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."
"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.
"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:
"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."
You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.
"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:
"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.
"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.
"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.
"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.
"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.
"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.
With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.
"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"
Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.
Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.
When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.
You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.
"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.
"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.
"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.
"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.
"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.
"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.
Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.
"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:
"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.
With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.
"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.
"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.
"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."
"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.
"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,
"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.
"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.
"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.
"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.
You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.
It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.
His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.
"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.
"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.
"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.
He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.
"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.
"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.
"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.
It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.
His fingers deftly slid through your slit.
"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.
"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.
"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.
"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.
"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.
"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:
"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.
Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:
"I want you and you alone."
His smile against your neck was almost infectious.
"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:
"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:
"A-Alastor..."
When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.
"Tell me."
"One."
"How far?"
You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.
"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.
"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.
"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.
"Understood?"
You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.
"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.
"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.
"That will hurt." He looked up at you.
"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.
"...where...?" He quietly inquired.
God, please, everywhere.
"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.
"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.
"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.
"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.
"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.
"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.
"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.
"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.
"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.
"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.
"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.
"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.
Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.
Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.
When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.
"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.
"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.
Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?
In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.
"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.
"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.
"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.
"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.
You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.
"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.
With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.
"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.
Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.
Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.
"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.
Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.
The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.
You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:
"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.
"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.
"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.
"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.
"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.
With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.
"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.
He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.
Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.
Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.
"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.
Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.
For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.
Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.
"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.
"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.
Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.
"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.
"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.
You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.
"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.
"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.
"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.
"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.
As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.
Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.
You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....
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Part 2?
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