#I need like a sedative lmao

[imwritesometimes]

pro tip: if you've just done 11 miles in 45 mins on a stationary bike, maybe wait a little bit before you do 40 squats

[doctorfoxtor]

HI I JUST REALISED. I KNOW THIS IS A MAID FORMULATION BUT WHAT'S WITH THOSE *ASTRONOMICAL* DOSES

at the euthanasia party everyone gets a sip of the forbidden lean

[chewablepebbles]

In the shower thinking about how I want to go back to therapy so I have someone to run over these problems with me and then trying to "make sure" I'd need a therapist so I run through the scenario with the imaginary one in my head and solve the problem which means I don't need therapy so I won't go back. Sigh.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

is it depression or is my appetite gone cause I'm preemptively preparing for when Val gives up on any progress & his relationship for real n starts givin me shit about my weight again

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning.��

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[kiss-me-cill-me]

i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭

also ps i love u and ur writing !!!

This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3

Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.

Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity

A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.

Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.

You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.

Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle. 

Broken.

You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.

A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.

You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body. 

The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…

Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.

“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”

“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”

“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself. 

His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.

“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.

Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.

“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat. 

The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other? 

Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.

“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.

Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.

“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”

Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.

You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.

Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.

So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally. 

The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.

“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.

That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you. 

He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering. 

But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.

“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”

“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”

You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.

“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”

“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”

The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.

“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.

You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.

“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.

But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.

With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.

“Remember when I used to do this for you?”

Crane stiffened slightly beside you.

“Things have changed since then,” he muttered. 

Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.

His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.

“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”

“You don’t.”

Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.

“I do. And I will. Always.”

You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.

“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”

“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“You can’t be.”

Always so stubborn.

“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”

Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror. 

“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”

“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”

“Stop.”

“Don’t you remember? We promised-”

“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.

You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.

“But they don’t have to,” you breathed. 

Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.

“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.

“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”

“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”

“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”

You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours. 

At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands. 

Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.

“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”

Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.

“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”

Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.

“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”

“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”

Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”

“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”

“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”

“Stop.”

Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.

“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.

“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”

“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”

“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”

“Jesus Christ…”

Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.

“This. You must remember this.” 

Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.

“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”

How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him. 

The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together. 

The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.

Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.

“Of course I remember.”

Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”

Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.

“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”

“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”

You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable. 

You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.

“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”

“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”

He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.

“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly. 

His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out. 

Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.

Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there. 

Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.

If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave. 

You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what. 

There would be no getting away.

This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE

[risingscorchingsuns]

hi guys!!!! MALS update since ive been putting it off since my appointment in mid july lmao. anyway cw for medical mentions and all that stuff!

i saw the specialist!!! a year of waiting, countless phone calls and a lawsuit threat for a guy to spend 15 minutes looking at my CT scan 💀 shoutout to American healthcare

anyway!! as short as the appointment was, it was actually very worth it- the doctor said it was incredibly likely that I had MALS, but a few of my symptoms are less common than others, so he referred me to a few other people. I was sent to have an ultrasound done on the arteries in my abdomen, as well as referred to one of the top vascular specialists in my state. I’m on his wait list, and I’ll see him in September.

The last thing they need to do to absolutely confirm my diagnosis is a nerve block procedure. Basically, they’re going to shut down the nerves that MALS impacts, and if my symptoms go away, then they know exactly what they need to operate on. They’ll do this by injecting me with a heavy mixture of both steroids and sedatives, and the effects will last about a week. The procedure takes about two hours, and they won’t put me under anesthesia but they are gonna give me a sedation IV or something.

So uh. That procedure is this Friday! I am!!! Highkey terrified out of my mind lmfaooo holy shit I am so scared. they’re giving me (guy who can barely get a flu shot without crying and still needs to look away from his t shots) the Two Hours Of Injections Procedure. i am terrified but hopefully it is for the best!!

i will keep you guys updated on the procedure etc!!

[puppetmaster13u]

Oh boi even more of One au in like 3 hours lol

I like to think that like how in @phoenixcatch7's Doll au there's gas versions of like cures and such in the batfam's gas masks since they don't need to breath when possessing the puppets right? I like to think there's an organic version of that with the meat puppet bodies, at least with Bruce, where the plates on his neck opens up into vents of sorts, pictured here with a few spikes removed for visibility reasons.

This gas could be some cures for like Joker venom & Fear gas and such, or it could also be sedatives, paralytics, could even vary between each member. (For example in the Cryptidverse Steph has Anesthetics on her claws, Jason has reflective powder that mimics embers/sparks, Cass has paralytics, etc). Honestly I am just brainstorming so this could definitely change lmao

I do like to think they start developing their own venom though, gotta' have those fangs & tusks for some reason lol

[queerponcho]

Vanilla and lemon | drabble

a/n: Well- I guess i am posting something for the first time🤌🏽 I have no idea how posting on Tumblr like this works so i welcome any Tips and tricks if you have any lmao.

summary: You’re a vampire and are, once again, visiting the museum. But this time you forgot your blood-packs and cant seem to be able to leave. What’ll you do? Starve?…or help yourself to a bite of your favourite tour-guide…

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AFTER THE CUT OFF PLEASE- i am not responsible for what kinda content you consume on the internet but i don’t wanna get blocked or reported so pls be warned this work is NSFW.

Vampire!female!reader x Steven Grant

Warnings: no use of your/n, smut, p in v, persuation, dubious consent, slight blood-play?, fingering, handjob, no mention of Jake or marc (sorry>_<), making out, not beta read, biting, marking, blood, scars, sub/steven?, begging, if i missed anything pls dont hesitate to tell mee<33

wordcount: a bit over 3000

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You have been in the museum for about 5 hours now. it's a place you like to be at, since it's shaded from the sun and usually quite deserted. You could go about the place comfortably without feeling watched or potentially being found out when you would drink out of your pre-packed blood packs. You even bought an opaque straw to make sure no-one saw the dark red thick liquid. unfortunately you forgot the straw and more importantly the packs. You’ve been waiting for the sun to set which you usually wouldn't need to-do because London was a generally clouded area, but this evening was especially sunny and warm despite it being october. You even forgot your umbrella at home, which you use to shield yourself from the sun.

there's a reason for your abrupt and unplanned leaving. you’ve been coming to this particular museum and touring the same exhibit for one reason only. The cute tour-guide, Steven Grant. He was intelligent and confident during his tour but every time you caught his gaze he would blush and avert his eyes fast, like a shy animal. you loved it. Always wearing those funky oversized shirts and ties under that beige jacket, on the warmer days he’d fold up the sleeves of his shirt to expose those delicious veins on his forearms. Every Time you saw those you could feel your canines prodding into your bottom lip. It was even worse now that you had forgotten your blood-pack. You were burning for a drop of blood, craving it. The only thing holding you back was your usual distaste of drinking directly from humans. Sometimes they would be all sweaty and smell dirty, you had to get so close it would ruin your appetite and sometimes the smell of them would get stuck on you for hours after you fed on them, which you just couldn’t tolerate anymore. So a few centuries ago you decided to switch entirely to bloodpacks, which had felt like a really good decision.

With hunger came an impeccable sense of smell. You knew Steven smelled good but you didn’t know he smelled like this. Like warm vanilla and zesty lemon, homey and comfortable. You’d press your fangs into his neck and never let go if that meant you could have that smell on you forever. The fact that he looked so good would be a definite bonus. Surely he’d be okay with living in your home, it was a historical mansion. It sed to be a vacation house for some rich nobles, but you renovated and refurbished it a while ago and kept it updated to current fashion, it was a bit of a hobby to you. He would have a huge Collection of books to read which you know he'd love, since you’ve caught him on more than one occasion, reading a different book every lunch. Just like he was right now, sitting by the giftshop, eating his pickle, cheese sandwich and reading up on egyptology. He looked really focused and you wouldn’t want to disturb, but before you can turn and move far away from him, your feet are leading you toward him.

Your instincts probably taking control as you sit down next to him, overwhelmed by the calming aura around him. He looks up from the book and locks eyes with you and you hear his heartbeat quickening. The blood rushing through his veins and supplying him with adrenaline as he looks at you flushed and wide-eyed.

‘h-hello miss. Can I help you with somethin?’ his pretty british accent isn't lost on you and the way he can't tear his eyes away from you has you riding a high you haven’t felt in a few decades. ‘I’ve been coming to your tours for a while and I really enjoy them. You’re really good at what you do’ the last part, you say in a slightly lower and breathier voice-range than usual. Your hunger is really affecting you in ways you had completely forgotten. Before you knew you were spilling compliance and persuasion spells onto Steven. You never liked to use them, they only ever worked on people that already had a certain affinity with you anyway. Meaning they’d either like you or needed to find you attractive for these to work. If you wanted to force someone you’d have to use the mind numbing witch magic you learned a few years after your transformation. That one you’d only used once, in a very dire situation on a very very old woman. It wasn't good blood but it was enough to survive at the time.

You’re brought back to Steven when you feel him leaning on your shoulder. ‘I know you’ve been watching me- I like it. You’re a very beautiful and captivating woman.’ Steven said lazily and fully giving into your spells, letting all his thoughts tumble out of his mouth. ‘I especially love your skirts- no matter the length they always make me flustered and nervous. Make me feel like theres this itch I can't scratch.’ he talks breathily and you hear his heartbeat pick up again and his blood most-likely rushing towards his growing arousal. You quickly take his tie in your hand and tug him with you. He follows you like a little puppy as you walk into a supply closet together. You lock the door with your magic and darken the window. Steven sees you do that and his eyes bulge a little out of his skull. ‘I-I gotta get back to w-work-’ Steven backs into the corner and you stalk toward him like a predator would towards his prey. ‘Oh darling, no need to worry- I only need to borrow something, yeah? It’ll only hurt a little, I promise.’ you say as you reach out to him and start to unbutton his shirt to reveal his neck and chest to you. You take off his Jacket and he blushes intensely. As your canines start protruding out of your mouth Steven surges forward and messily kisses you, you’re caught off guard but immediately tug him closer to you.

He grabs at the nape of your neck and desperately kisses you, slashing his tongue into your mouth and licking your canines expertly. This only amplifies your hunger and you slam him into the wall behind him with unnatural strength. He whimpers and paws at your soft body pulling your hips closer to his. You part away from him to let him breathe, and start licking down to his throat nibbling his jawline and earlobe. Finally you get to his pulsepoint and inhale his scent urgently lapping against it. He moans and whimpers, writhing under your touch. ‘please- please’ he moans quietly, not entirely sure what he is begging for.

He savours the taste and craves more kissing you again, licking into your mouth and letting his flavour spread into his mouth. He takes off your bra as you unbuckle his pants. He throws the bra towards where your blouse and his shirt are and walks you backwards to a table covered with rags and cleaning supplies. He shoves everythign to the floor and lifts you onto it. You plop down on the table and make a show of arching your back for Steven. He growls and comes closer reaching under your particularly short skirt and cupps your pussy over your sheer tights. You mirror his action by reaching into his briefs and wrapping your hand around his already leaking cock.

He stares at you awestruck and you take his hand in yours tugging him forward so he falls onto you. He catches himself so he doesn't crush you completely. You hook your legs around his hips and feel his jeans against your ass. His dick rubbing over your clit destroys your patience ‘fuck me Steven’ he mewls at that and positions his cock over your eager hole and pushes in slowly. ‘you’re so perfect, so tight for me always’ You both moan and you grab a hold of his hair and expose the other side of his throat to you. You surge forward and break his skin with your sharp canines. He slams down hard, now completely sheathed inside your tight wet cunt. ‘oh I love this- love you honey oh my gods’ you unlatch from him and bite a new spot next to the other one. Marking him as yours once more. He slams into you, pounding your pussy. The only sounds in the room, filthy and wet squelching sounds from the repeated thrusting and your collective moaning and panting. Steven whimpers and moves one hand to your clit, rubbing at it expertly. ‘m’gonna cum love- pleaseplease can I cum?’ You lick the fresh blood off his throat. Humming at the taste of him, you feel as he shudders and starts rutting into you uncontrollably, he’s about to cum and so are you. You move to his ear and suck on his lobe, before releasing a command. ‘cum for me Steven.’ He mewls and moans at your command and wantonly thrusts into you even faster than before. You move towards his mouth and kiss him hungrily, to his delight you take his tongue into your mouth and suck on it eagerly.

His hips stutter and he explodes into your tight pussy catapulting you towards your own orgasm as he circles your clit. He shoots his load, painting your tight walls and collapses on top of you. you come down from your high and make soothing motions on Stevens back. Your head resting on his shoulder, you turn to your favourite spot and lick his wounds. You feel his dick bob inside your pussy and you giggle at your insatiable husband. ‘never can get enough can you?’ ‘never of you, love’ he says lovingly into your hair. He lifts himself up to make eye-contact ‘you should forget your blood-packs more often when you visit me at work’ he remarks while kissing your shoulder. ‘You’re lucky that my love for you is stronger than my lust for blood, sweetheart’ Steven kisses you lovingly ‘i love you too darling. By the way, how did you like my innocent act, it was good wasn't it?’ you snort as he wiggles his eyebrows up and down. You turn your face into a seductive smirk and lean into his ear putting on a sultry voice ‘mmhm, you did so good~’ his grip on you tightens and his softening cock hardening again at your voice. His breath hitches and you kiss him quickly smiling up at him innocently when you part, he groans at your successful teasing. You lay there for a little longer, before Steven remembers that he has another tour starting in a few minutes. You help eachother get clean and collect your torn tights off the floor as you notice that the panties had gone missing. Steven kisses you once more before exiting the supply-room and as he slides on the jacket you spot a deep red piece of fabric hanging out of his Inner pocket inside his jacket. You narrow your eyes at him jokingly and he winks at you before making his way towards the waiting visitors.

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a/n: thanks so much for reading<33 if you like this please like and/or reblog😌🫶🏽

[diagonal-queen]

thungo thursday pt2

ep 6 (put it under a cut because this one is LONG)

fukuchi be like 'the agency couldn't possibly be smart enough to- oh wait nvm i forgot ranpo existed lol' like more than once and i think that is testament to the fact that RANPO BEST BOY

'have you forgotten? we're terrorists' ICONIC BEHAVIOUR

man and i complain about doing one 37 hour work week. after this one week the agency needs to take a NAP. AND THE MAFIA TOO. imagine there's like just no criminal activity or anything for like three days and everyone's like ?? but on day 4 atsushi and akutagawa are fighting to the death at the port and everyone is like 'ah. business as usual' lmaoooo

omg every time the hunting dogs song comes on i get so hyped lmao im like yESSS ACTION

'that man, that demon, the evillest most scawy man ever in the world....etc etc' and its just some guy doing the most coy babygirl pose a guy can possibly do

wait DAZAI WHAT DID YOU DO. HOW DID YOU DO IT

taneda btw deserved none of this he was just some nice old dude and then sigma fucking stabbed him lmao

dazai is like the personification of the perjury mechanic in drv3. 'go on lie. you gotta. lie now. cmon pussy you wont'

OH MY GOD CHUUYA

my god fyozai is so fucking babygirl. also wdym dazai?? if the two of you were the last ones on earth you should just have gay sex. its not that hard smh

oh no dazai falled down through the flore

OH MY GOD MYKOLA AND SIGMA

BESTIE??

BESTIE?????

BESTIE????????????????

BESTIE??????????????????????

B

E

S

T

I

E

?

?

?

?

?

?

?

?

dm me if you want to receive a free 2min audio file of me laughing about this (i have a headache from laughing. my throat fucking hurts so bad. i'm pretty sure it's actually bleeding. my eyes are moist with tears. BESTIE???????)

do you even needa ask why i'm here?? ⭐️❤️☺️ *voice drops 6 octaves* i'm here to murder you 👹👹👹

and then after that fyodor was just like 'teehee he's so romantic x' like bro

dazai: *turns to the camera like he's on the office* waow

i love mykola's little laugh it's so silley

omg they're actually animating him so well. bones must've seen the reception from s4 and decided to step it up 💀

dazai and fyodor are simultaneously evil grown men and bimbo highschool girls and it's such a look. 'omg ur friends are so cute <3' 'omg right???' also mykola my beloved i want to be yours forever pls

i love how bram's acting all tough like aya can't just open the casket and leave and render him thoroughly powerless lmao

omg the official anime aya and bram sillies begin. we've been waiting for this for months folks so far so good

it was already pretty funny that aya is carrying bram like a backpack but actually seeing her running with him on her back is like a billion times funnier especially since this shit is life or death. but she just got a whole entire vampire on her back no problem sjhsksjssjhj

sigma: watashi wa shiguma me: fucking superb you funky little toddler

imagine if it was a fucking prank this whole time and mykola just injected them with a slow-working sedative or something that would be so funny. like all of this for nothing sksjksjsjks and then he just stabs fyodor or something the end. boom world save

oh ok nvm the vampires can talk just fine i guess lmao. also i genuinely cant tell if im supposed to be taking this episode seriously or not. one second people are being brutally slaughtered next moment silley little guys??? such is the way of bsd i guess

'you're a failure of a woman' my dude she is literally 10 years old she is nowhere close to being a woman shut your misogynistic ass up lmao

OKAY BECAUSE ok ok listen i was wondering what music they were gonna use for bram and when i heard the ending music i was like 'ok a little anticlimactic but i understand' and then it TRANSITIONED into the ACTUAL ENDING??? 10/10

hehe. bestie

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

update on how being drugged feels: gas and air tastes weird but it makes you feel really chill, I didn’t get much sedative bc i was apparently like the best patient ever and didn’t need much (like the doctors were telling my mum how I was really good it was very weird lol) but it made me feel really chill too. it helped with pain but bc the procedure wasn’t painful I didn’t notice at first lmao. i will use this info for evil (my c!prime writing).

ill post more about the experience when I’ve actually ate shit bc I’m still extremely out of it and I do think it’s good to talk about medical stuff if possible (i had what was a really stigmatised procedure that a lot of people avoid so i do wanna talk about how it was Literally just like lying in a bed chatting to nurses for 20 minutes and wasn’t painful or anything) but I’m way too woozy to make much sense lol.

[outpost51]

🌬️⚡️🌌

WIP Weather Asks

🌬 Wind - What was the easiest part of your WIP to write?

so far? i think the dream/hallucination sequences in blinding neon and stellar parallax have been the easiest and some of my favorites. like jane was off her entire ass on so many sedatives because of her biotics and also like. ancient ai brain damage. and then frankie is literally just not getting any sleep and she is quite literally a ball of stress rn

⚡️Lightning - Have you ever spontaneously added something to your story that you wouldn't have added normally? If so, what made you do it?

answered here!

🌌 Clear Skies - How long have you been writing your current WIP?

oh man let's see.

botls: early 00s, it was started some time in middle school

irregular orbit: i think i started this in 2012? it needs to undergo major rewrites before i'm willing to share like, any of it lol

caught in the crossfire: started like juuuuuust after irregular orbit

what you will i will not name: i've been writing this one on and off in tandem with crossfire because i'm as incredibly autistic about destiny as i am about mass effect

tomorrow isn't promised: 2015, i think. started revamping it in 2020? ish.

arsonist chronicles: this was my 2021 nano project! i won with it and this sucker hasn't even hit the end of act i lmao

blinding neon: 2022!

helix: also 2022, a few months down the line from blinding neon!

xatal: either late 2022 or early 2023

[aris-ink]

Omg you're disabled! What is your disability and why does it exhaust you too much?

I'm sorry if this is coming quite brutal but I'm genuinely asking 😭

dhdhdhdh tbh I don't like using this term to describe myself, mostly because I feel like I'm not unwell enough for it? (ofc I know other people with my conditions use it and I don't bat an eyelid, like, as they should — just, you know, different rules apply to me 💀)

well, I'm not fully diagnosed yet, bc it is pretty expensive to see two specialists regularly and I can only afford therapy with one at the moment. so far I know this much: depression and anxiety are exhausting to deal with on their own, but I also have fibromyalgia. that comes with chronic pain and fatigue, stiffness, difficulties with lifting, bending, walking, and etc. I couldn't finish my course and become a carer bc my knee randomly stops working as well so there went my dream SHDHDNDND

there were signs of arthritis in my blood, and I have some symptoms too, but I wasn't able to attend the tests I needed. I am also on regular meds (including painkillers & sedatives) and these come with side effects like sleepiness as well 😭 not to mention I struggle with anemia so yes I'm always exhausted lmao 😭

I love youuu <3

[bumblebee-moreno]

TLOU characters as cats?

general warning for possible spoilers? probably won't go too into detail, but... you've been warned. Also warning: I do not personally own cats, however, I have worked in the veterinary field for over 3 years. So that's where my opinions are coming from lmao

I'm starting with only characters we've met so far in hbo's series (first 6 episodes as of this post), and definitely didn't include everyone, but I might add more later (or if others add on, even better).

--inspired by previous reblog

Pre-outbreak Joel:

You won’t see or hear from him all day… BUT. The moment you’re about to get up to do something, he will curl up in your lap and by law, once an aloof cat is in your lap, you cannot move. You’re running late for an appointment? better just cancel because he’s not moving until the MOMENT the appointment is scheduled to end. You have to pee? You better have a bladder of steel because he’s making biscuits RIGHT THERE. You were getting up to make dinner? No you’re not. 

Regularly leaves mouse/rat/bird carcasses for you to find, because clearly you cannot hunt for yourself. 

You won’t see him for a week, but then you come home late from work ONE TIME, and he WILL shit in your bed before disappearing into the void again

isn’t outright spicy at the vet, but he WILL be as uncooperative as physically possible: time to go back in the carrier? you now have a starfish cat. Need him to sit still for a blood draw? The whole world will hear about how he’s the most tortured, abused, and unloved cat in existence. Need to catch him for xrays? Better get the stool because he’s on top of the cabinets. 

If his water is not moving (like a water fountain type situation), he WILL dump it on the floor, turn on the sink for a sip, and then just. leave the sink on. 

Will follow strangers around the house, watching them from a distance. If they try to pet him, he’ll run and hide. Once you’ve gained his trust, though, he can be very affectionate when the mood strikes him. There’s even occasional moments of playfulness

Post-outbreak Joel:

Post-outbreak Joel: absolute scrapper. one of those feral cats that look like they’ve been chewed up and spat back out at least 3 times.

He's very unlikely to approach people, but he will not hesitate to steal their stuff if they leave their garage open.

It’s almost impossible to gain his trust, but once you do, he’s a sweetheart… but only when he’s alone with you—if someone else walks into the room he WILL bite you and run away as if he weren’t just purring and making biscuits on your lap

Will sit on your chest and watch you sleep. If you catch him dosing off… no you didn’t. 

Will only ever sleep inside if it’s offered by someone he really trusts, and only on incredibly cold/wet nights. If anyone tried to make him a house cat, he’d be miserable

Don’t even try to take him to the vet. But if you do, be ready to pay for a pharmacy-worth of sedatives, and let the staff know to have the cat gloves ready if they value their limbs.

You will not see him for at least a week afterwards, but you will know he’s nearby because there will be a fresh dead thing on your doormat every morning (hey, he’s mad at you, but he can’t let you starve!)

Ellie Williams:

Will stampede through the house at 3am for no reason.

If you set anything remotely breakable on the counter, she will look you straight in the eye and knock it onto the floor. 

I’ve been my old boss’ house sitter for years now. One of her cats LOVES cuddles… unfortunately, in her kitty brain, ‘cuddles’ means sleeping directly on your face. If you try to move her or roll over in your sleep, you WILL get bit. Not hard enough to do any real damage, but just enough to kinda hurt, y’know? I feel like that’d be Ellie.

Loves hunting, but rarely actually catches anything. If she does, it’s a toss-up whether she’ll kill it or just rip a few limbs off and get bored. (I obviously don’t see human Ellie as doing anything like this, but I can definitely see a cat version of her doing it)

Will stick her paws as far under the bathroom door the whole time you’re in there, but as soon as you finish and open the door, she’s nowhere to be found.

There’s no doubt that she’s very much a feral cat, but unlike Joel and Tess who are the overly cautious type, Ellie is the cat that will act friendly for a meal and warm spot to sleep, but if you try to contain her beyond her own terms, she will go apeshit and destroy everything in her attempt to get out.

If she’s in the house, any window that has a screen must be left either FULLY closed, or FULLY open. If it’s not 100% in either direction, she will climb between the screen and the window, get stuck, and promptly SCREAM like a ravenous banshee until someone helps her out… She will claw the arms of whoever dares help her until she is fully free, before hissing and disappearing into the void to sulk.

If you're doing something important, she WILL sit directly on top of it and refuse to move. But only if the thing is important. If she's not interrupting something that you actually have to get done, she's not interested.

Sarah Miller:

If zoom were a thing at the time, she’d be one of those cats that interrupts the entire meeting by sitting directly on top of her person’s keyboard.

Will sit on the other side of your bedroom door and scream until you let her in, only to turn around and scream until you let her back out again. it’s an endless cycle. 

Has a million and one toys. Will dump them all on the floor and sit inside the box. If she’s feeling extra fancy, she might take a break from the box to unravel every single toilet paper roll she can reach, before promptly returning to her box

Has a hoard of stolen socks under the couch. Some of the socks clearly do not belong to anyone in the house. It’s extra strange because she’s an indoor cat.

Is the reason her family can never bring food to potlucks… there is nothing that can keep her off the counters, and she thinks she is VERY helpful in the kitchen. The pantry has a baby lock because she figured out how to open doors.

It doesn't matter how much trouble she gets into, because the second she looks at you with that face, it's impossible to stay upset.

Tess Servopoulos:

Much like post-outbreak Joel, she’s a bit of a scrapper, and doesn’t trust easy. If you sit still long enough, she might settle in your lap, but if you acknowledge her in any way (including trying to pet her), she will get up and leave. 

She’s pretty friendly, but very skittish. 

If she's tried escaping and her boundaries continue to be pushed, she's not afraid to get her claws or teeth involved. Unlike Joel, they're just not her go-to.

She’s been known to take refuge in the occasional garage, but unless hell has frozen over, she will not be coming inside anyone’s house. 

I feel like pre-outbreak Tess would be one of those cats that brings home random kittens of unknown origins, despite being spayed. I have no evidence for this, it’s a vibe she gives off.

Tommy Miller:

y’know those cats that convince like. 4 different people that they’re the owners/families of said cat in order to get fed and loved on by 4 different families? that’s Tommy

If his dish is empty, he will act as if he’s being starved to death. As soon as you fill it, he loses interest and ignores the dish entirely. He wasn’t actually hungry, he just likes knowing the food is there. 

He’s one of those cats that everyone adores. 

Despite being one of the friendliest cats you could ever meet, it takes a LONG time for him to find a family he’ll actually allow to take him in. Until then, he’s very much a street cat, and will allow as many families to THINK he belongs to them as will feed him, but if they tried to limit his freedom in any way, he’d be miserable. Once he’s found the right home to settle down in, though, he doesn’t go too far past the yard, or occasionally the neighbour’s yard. 

When he’s on the streets, he’ll never pick a fight, but he’ll sure as hell win if someone else starts anything.

[gay-art-vibes]

Do you have any plans to continue the vampire Leah fic?

Love everything you write!!

I do I’m just juggling so many fics rn I’m kinda like in zombie mode so I’m slowing down for a few weeks. I’ve been doing like 8 chapters a week and I need a sedative lmao. A bish is not sleeping but once I am ima update this at some point because it’s one of my faves.

[meeludrawz]

It's not your baby - Part 1

My TMNT au doesn't have an actual name ANYWHO *Ahem* I was bored so I'm writing this little thing hereuh (I'm also writing it the way I imagined it in my head so don't u dare say I have bad grammar or shit like that, I know, I did it on purpose lmao) ------------------------------------------------------------

"I have good news but also bad news" Donnie walked out of his lab/room. "Which one do you want?" His brothers were all standing in the middle of the lair. Leo took some steps forward before Mikey could even open his mouth. "Bad news first" He answered Donnie while putting a hand on Mikey's shoulder to reassure him. "Elina needs a c-section as soon as possible-" "WHAT?!" Mikey interrupted Donnie by running to him and grabbing his shoulders. "IS SHE OKAY?! IS THE BABY OKAY?!" He shook his older purple brother before turning around. "What's a c-section?" "You've gotta be fucking stupid" Raph sighed in annoyance. "It's another way to get the baby out of the stomach, it's some kind of surgery" Leo explained as much as he could so Mikey could understand. "Not exactly that but yeah, I guess" Nodded Donnie as he thanked Leo, with a nod. "Anyways, as I was saying, Elina needs a c-section as soon as possible or else that will put both her and the baby in danger" "Then what are you waiting for? Save 'em" Raph added, raising a brow. The purple-masked turtle hesitated. "What's wrong?" Asked Leo after seeing the look on his brother's face.

"I can't just open her stomach like that! There are multiple procedures and I'm not an obstetrician!" "A what" Raph and Mikey asked simultaneously, confused. Donnie looked at their leader and even Leo looked confused so he facepalmed "It's the guy who does the surgery" he groaned.

"But- But dude you know lots!" Mikey started, trying to find some examples. "You saved Leo's life!" He couldn't find anything else. "You saved us so many times!" Facing Donatello, he looked down. "Can't you save them? For me?" "Mikey, it's dangerous! I could kill them both, I never did this before! I'm sorry Mikey but I just can't do anything to save them both"

Some tears started to form in Mikey's eyes. His older brothers instantly saw them. "Mike.." The orange-masked turtle raised his face towards Donnie. "Save both of them!!" He begged as he cried. "We're NINJAS Don!! We SAVE LIVES" "Ninjas are heroes Mikey!! Not doctors!!" The two of them got a little bit too close to each other. Luckily, Elina was under a sedative, their voices wouldn't wake her up.

"Doctors are heroes too!! They save lives too!! Why can't you do it?! Why can't you see that there is no difference?!" Mikey, out of rage, pushed Donnie. Raph and Leo gasped in worry. Donnie was also shocked but flames were burning in his eyes, he was pissed. "Okay that's enough" The leader tried to separate them before it was too late. But they didn't listen, Donnie pushed back his younger brother. "I said enough!" Once again, the younger brothers didn't listen and they started fighting each other. Leo threw a glance at Raph and they both immediately separated the younger two. "HOW CAN YOU BE SO HEARTLESS?! THAT'S MY BABY IN THERE!!" Mikey screamed as the tears were flooding his face. "THAT'S NOT YOUR BABY!!" The room immediately fell silent. Mikey, Raph and Leo's eyes widened in shock. Raph and Leo let go of the younger ones and the orange-masked turtle stormed out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------- Who wants part 2? I want part 2, you'll get part 2 Also, it's not cuz Donnie doesn't wanna but because he's scared. He never "opened" someone's belly before, ya know? He knows that if he fucks up, he knows it'll affect Mikey. (Mostly if it kills Elina and her baby)

Elina Watson belongs to me and can be first seen >here&lt;

Also Leo, Raph and Donnie still don't get how the frick Mikey has a girlfriend AND a kid before any of them Raph didn't step in at first because damn, Mikey and Donnie fighting? 👁️👄👁️🍿  And Leo.. Well, he was shocked to even see his younger brother acting like an adult so he just kinda froze

@ackalice Might interest u? Idk sorry for the ping ^^''