#and i want him alive and conscious the entire time

[loving-delusions]

been reading some p.ai.nter x reader fics on ao3 and ouhhhhh i think im seeing the appeal

[arolesbianism]

What if instead of posting abt the random card au characters that are actually from the medias I made the au for I just post more abt the ocs that don't matter at all and that no one cares abt. Anyways currently thinking abt the magic user that started the bond that An is a part of. Little autism creature that goes ehehehehheheeheeheeheeeeheheheheeehee

[cultven]

hii i love reading yor fics sososo much T_T<333

I'd like to request a fic where Logan dreams that he hurts the reader, almost killing them. The reader notices that he's having a nightmare and wakes him up, he's disoriented and in panic, but when he realized what just happened he is incredibly relieved to see that reader is ok and alive. Maybe he even breaks down and cries, which really shocks the reader cuz they arent used to seeing Logan like this 🥺 Then the reader comforts him and takes care of him until he's back asleep.

As It Should Be

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Comfort, crying, poor Logan cannot catch a break, but you're there to dig him out of his sadness hole, he loves you a lot, lots of fluff while comforting him

Word Count: 1.39k

Warnings: Some graphic violence during the nightmare segment

a/n: Thank you for the kind words! This one honestly got a little graphic in terms of gore, but nothing too bad, so hopefully that’s ok! This was fun to write, enjoy!

No. What had he done? 

Logan stood in a pile of debris and rubble, his white tank top and jeans now caked in blood that wasn’t his. Claws refusing to retract, Logan felt utterly hopeless against his own body. His actions weren’t his own as he trudged towards the only person left alive; you. You were scared, that much was clear by your facial expression and hasty movements to crawl backward away from the mutant. 

“Logan… this isn’t you, please.” You plead, eyes darting around the scene to find help, anyone that is still alive or conscious. All you could take in was the decimated mansion and the mauled corpses of your loved ones. What had taken over Logan? Why did he destroy the very things he risked his life for countless times? 

As Logan looked into your frightened eyes his heart clenched, knowing what was coming next. He just wishes he could stop it. Watching himself tear through his other family hurt like hell, but having to watch you die he didn’t think he could bear it. You were his entire world, the only thing that could ground him when he fell down the pits of self-destruction. He would forever kill himself before harming you. But this version of himself had other plans. 

He trudged over, claws glistening in the light of fire around them. “No, no no no…” You chant, still trying to escape the man but your legs are rendered useless due to your paralyzing fear. With one swift movement, Logan begins to tear through flesh and muscle, watching in horror as his hands mutilate his love against his will. You could do nothing but lay there, screaming in pain, your mutant ability keeping you alive for longer than you wanted to be. Logan wished he was the one being gutted. In a way, he was. Anyone else, anyone but you deserved his wrath. 

Tears clung tightly to his eyes as his hand retracted from your body, lining up for the final shot to the head. As the blade commences its soar towards your skull, Logan jolts up from a lying position and hastily takes in his surroundings. It was dark, he was under a blanket of sorts, and oh, he was in your bedroom. Had it only been a nightmare? No, it was far too cruel and realistic to have been. Even Logan’s mind wasn’t so callous to make him live through such a horror. So then, it must have been real? Logan begins to hyperventilate, raising his hands to eye level. His claws were away, and his rough skin was clean of blood. But, as he blinked, grotesque images flashed through his mind. Sick crimson blood, your blood, begins to stain his hands, drying in a disgusting reddish-brown. He immediately jumped out of bed, went into the ensuite bathroom, and scrubbed his hands raw. 

“No, no no no.” He chanted under his breath as he tried to scrape off the non-existent material. The cold water was not enough to ground him back to reality, Logan eventually gave up and put him back to the skin, sliding down towards the floor to cradle his head in his hands. Thanks to the sound of the water running in the bathroom and Logan’s hard footsteps, you eventually stir awake. At first, nothing seemed wrong, maybe he just had to use the bathroom. But after the sound of continuous water for five minutes you grew increasingly concerned. Deciding to confront the man you carefully walk up to the bathroom door and gently knock three times, not to startle him during whatever he’s doing. 

“Lo?” It was only one syllable, but your sweet voice saying his nickname out loud was enough to send Logan scrambling. The door eagerly burst open, and when it did the sight you were met with shocked your heart. There was Logan on the ground, clearly disheveled, eyes bloodshot and teary. “Oh baby, what happened?” You coo, going to take a step forward but immediately retreating seeing Logan flinch. 

“You’re- you’re real, right?” Logan tentatively asks, sounding scared. Of course, you were real, why wouldn’t you be?” 

“Yes, love.” You stay put in your place. You didn’t want to upset him further.

“No… I ripped you apart. You died by my hands.” You resist the urge to outwardly exclaim how ridiculous he sounded before realizing he more than likely had a nightmare. Logan was prone to bad dreams, but none ever shook him quite as much as this. The only good thing that came out of the consistent night terrors was that you now knew how to soothe him in times like these. 

“I’m right here my love. I’m not hurt. See? I’m perfectly okay.” Your voice stays calm and soothing, not wanting to startle him further. “Touch my hand. Feel my skin. I am right here.” Usually, the sensation of touch grounded him from this distressed state, but this time he seemed hesitant to even look in your direction. 

“I can’t. I might hurt you again.” Logan looked so small and it broke you. He was huddled into himself, still looking at you untrusting. The thought of himself harming you any further plagued his mind, twisting his stomach and making him want to vomit. You were his world, his everything. He curses his body for the immortality that was bestowed upon him because if anything happens to you he wants to follow right behind. 

Realizing you may seem intimidating due to the fact you’re standing tall over his curled-up body you lower yourself and sit criss-cross applesauce across from him. Putting your hand out in between your two bodies you silently sit there, waiting for Logan to take this at his own pace. After a few minutes, Logan seems calm enough to touch your hand. Fingertips only brush at first, then a loose handhold, then a firm grasp on each other. Before either of you knew it you were fully embracing, Logan nuzzling his head into your neck. He needed to take you in every sense, to prove this was real. His nose took in your intoxicating perfume, his hands gripped your curves, his ears heard your soft breaths release from your mouth, and when he pulled back his eyes took in the sight of you. You were as stunning as always even with your messy hair and tired eyes. You were real, you were here, and you were his. 

Seeing as your boyfriend has calmed down you decided to relocate to a more comfortable area. “Let’s get off this gross floor, okay love? Let’s go to bed.” You whisper, carefully tugging him along to your shared bed. Once you two got settled down you were instantly back in his strong arms, protecting you from the rest of the world. You thought all was said and done for the night until Logan spoke up. 

“You were so scared. I made you scared.” He hated seeing you that way. It hurt him. What hurt worse was that he was the cause of it. He now understands it wasn’t real, but your expression was so gut-wrenching he couldn’t shake it off. 

“Logan I know you would never hurt me on purpose.” You reassured him. “Except maybe when you squeeze me to death with your bear hugs.” Logan chuckled a little bit, your humor always lightens the mood. You lay in silence for a bit, almost dozing off until you hear a voice next to you. 

“Thank you for dealing with me.” You smile, leaning over and kissing the man gingerly on the cheek. 

“It’s what I signed up for my love. Besides, you could never be a bother to me.” He smiles back, a rare sight to anyone but yourself. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too.” With that resignation you two cuddle, arms and legs entangled with one another’s. Eventually, Logan is lulled back to sleep while listening to the steady beat of your heart. Instead of another nightmare, he is met with a blissful dream of the two of you living together on a mountain, away from all the violence and harm the world holds. Just as it should be. 

[beckyninja]

Relief

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemReader

Warnings: talk of periods, sexual content, MDNI

Description: Titus "helps" his serf lover through a particularly painful time of the month.

Forget whatever I said about my last fic. This one is definitely the spiciest thing I've ever written! I had planned on something entirely different, but then "that time of the month" reared its ugly head. And suddenly all I could think about was having a strong, handsome Astartes to help me through it.

Titus didn’t sprint, though he wanted to. 

After enduring the ominous warnings of the Chaplain, the disdain of Captain Acheran, and the incessant prying of his new squad (not to mention the small matter of a tyranid invasion), he longed for the solace of your presence.

Your touch.

Rage still burned like promethium within him when he remembered entering his quarters to find you half-starved. 

“You’re alive.” You’d whispered upon seeing him. “You’re alive.”

When I find the one responsible for her suffering….

His growl sent several serfs darting out of his path. He walked faster and, at last, the door to his quarters came into view. Soon, he would have you in his arms.

Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought. 

The first time he lay with you, before Kadaku and his remaking, had been beyond his imaginings. Baseline anatomy lessons from his neophyte days supplied the rudiments. But he had the Space Wolves and a solitary Salamander he’d met in the Death Watch to thank for the rest.

He’d encountered the former boasting of their conquests one evening in the dining hall after one of them had smuggled in a few barrels of foul-smelling mjod. As they grew more intoxicated, they delighted in shocking the more puritanical Astartes in the Watch with detailed descriptions of “fraternization”. 

Titus remembered being repulsed at first. Though, against his better instincts, that repulsion soon turned to wary curiosity. 

While the Wolves howled about conquering and claiming, a Salamander Apothecary had taken a seat next to Titus and shaken his head.

“Not all baseline females are the wild she-wolves of Fenris.” The old drake had rumbled quietly. “If an Astartes is blessed with the affections of a woman, he should cherish her with gentleness, for she is rare and precious.”

Titus remembered a sorrowful look in the veteran’s red eyes as he spoke, and the way he stroked a bone reliquary tied at his waist. 

He had tried to incorporate all he’d overheard into your union. You’d been so fragile in his hands, so vulnerable. And when your body welcomed him inside. When, amidst the white heat of his own ecstasy, he saw you gaze up at him….

Throne of Terra, I would slaughter every tyranid in the Hive Fleet to have you look at me like that always.

He punched his code into the access panel. He only had a few hours of leisure to spare, and a third of that had already been taken up in removing his armor. But he needed to feel your skin upon his again.

The door hissed open and-

Blood.

Every enhanced sense he possessed sharpened to a razor’s edge as the metallic scent filled his nostrils. Unlike before, when his mind had been clouded by sleep, he knew with absolute certainty this blood came from your body. 

The room was empty. Half the candles lit. One smoking tapir on its side by the cot. Indents on the mattress the size of small baseline hands. Drops of red on the floor. The sharp taste of stress and pain chemicals. Soft whimpers from the lavatory.

All this came to him in the time between heartbeats. Another heartbeat and he stood before the closed lavatory door.

“Little Healer?”

The medicae had said you would be fine. An injection of nutrients, a high calorie meal, and rest. You already looked better when he left you in the infirmary. They said you would be fine.

He’d had to leave. He had no choice. They said you would be fine!

“Demetrian?”

Conscious and able to speak. He leaned his forehead against the cold metal of the door.

“I am coming in.”

A sharp gasp. “No! Just, just give me a moment, please.”

He heard pain in your voice. His instincts screamed at him to tear through the metal to reach you.

The door slid open.

Pale skin. Sweat beads on your forehead. Hunched shoulders. You smiled up at him, but reeked of misery.

He scooped you into his arms. “We are returning to the infirmary.”

“Demetrian-”

“You are still unwell.”

“Demetrian, please-”

He strode toward the door of his quarters. “Or did you injure yourself?”

“No, Demetrian! Listen-”

“I should not have left you alone.”

A tiny fist bounced off his jaw. He stopped mid-stride and looked down at you in shock. You looked back at him, then down at your clenched fist, seemingly stunned by your own actions.

“I…I…,” you closed your eyes and breathed deeply, “I’m sorry, my lord. I don’t know what came over me.”

“My lord?” He muttered. 

“Please put me down. I’m not unwell. And I’m not injured.”

He scowled. “You reek of blood, woman.”

Throne, has whatever hurt she suffered affected her mind as well?

“I know, but it’s…it’s natural, Demetrian.”

The Warp it is. “Explain.”

She sighed. “Can you put me down first? Please?”

“No.” 

He tightened his grip. If her mind was unbalanced, who knows what she might do if he released her.

Another sigh. “Fine. Once a month, a woman’s body undergoes a certain process….”

He remained silent during her entire explanation. When she finished, he carefully set her upon his cot.

“And this…cycle…causes pain?”

“Every woman experiences it differently. Some only ever feel mild discomfort, for others it’s little short of agony.”

You bit your lip. The pain smell spiked and, with it, his concern. 

“Why have I not noticed before?”

You breathed slowly now, in through your nose, out through your mouth. “You’ve always been on mission during this time. And…agh…in the Watch Fortress, Lord Apothecary Nev’ran made sure to set pain suppressants aside for us female serfs.”

The old Salamander always had a soft spot for the baselines, Titus remembered.

A low moan drew his attention back to you. You folded on his cot, arms wrapped around your midsection. 

His fingers twitched, automatically seeking a weapon. The instinct to destroy whatever caused you pain surged. He needed to fix this.

“Did you request pain suppressants from the medica?”

You started rocking slightly. “I…tried. He said they were unnecessary and dismissed me. I didn’t dare argue. In the Fortress, there were serfs I could go to for help during this time.” You looked up at him with a tight smile. “But I’m beginning to think I’m the only woman on this ship.”

Titus thought back over the last few days, and all the baseline crew he’d encountered.

She may be right.

“Oh Emperor….” 

Your whimper felt like another Carnifex talon through his chest.

“There must be something I can do.” He knelt before you, cupping your face in his hand. “Anything.”

You pressed against him. “Heat. Heat sometimes helps.” 

He let you move his hand to your lower stomach. You opened your robes and pressed it against your skin. 

“And, on my back, please?” 

Before you’d even finished asking, he slipped his other hand in and around. You gripped his arms and whined.

“Oh, oh yes.” 

He shouldn’t be aroused by this. You were still in pain. But your soft sounds of helplessness, the feel of your skin beneath his hands, the way you trembled. All of it called to a primal part of him only recently awakened.

And when you looked up at him in wonder and said, “You’re…you’re so much bigger now.”

Throne damn it.

Titus yanked you to him and took your mouth. You yelped, but did not struggle, instead throwing your hands around his neck and digging your fingers into the hair at his nape. He snarled at the sensation, pushing his tongue past your lips like you’d shown him that first night.

This time your moan sounded of pleasure.

He pressed his body against you, lowering you to your back on the cot. Your hands left his neck and fluttered against his chest. You pulled away from his kiss.

“Demetrian….”

He pressed his mouth to your throat, laving it with his tongue and tasting your sweat. He searched for a spot he could bite without leaving a visible mark. 

“Demetrian, stop!”

The magnitude of his selfishness crashed upon him.

“Throne. Forgive me, Little Healer.” Reeling back, he searched your face for any sign of pain. “I…I did not think, I…,” he raked a hand over his face, desperately trying to rein in his baser instincts.

“It’s all right. It’s just, now might not be the best time.”

“Would it cause you more pain?”

A blush spread across your cheeks. “Um…no, that’s not it. In fact, some women say…this…actually helps.”

“Truly?” 

Desire welled within him once more, washing away any lingering guilt. He bracketed your small body with his hands and loomed over you. 

“Then why should I stop?” You turned your face away, but he gently grasped your chin. “Look at me, and tell me why.”

“It, it,” he heard your heart beating wildly, “it could get a bit…messy.”

He blinked, then allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. “Woman, when has an Astartes ever shied away from the sight of blood?”

A new smell met his nose, one he had only recently become familiar with. He lowered his face close to yours and inhaled deeply. 

“You want this as much as I.”

You nodded frantically, hands suddenly pawing at his collar. “Yes! I want this. Please, Demetrian. Please, please, please!”

He tore his robe open and flung it to the floor. Your clothing swiftly followed. The scent of blood and arousal maddened him. He tried to pull your thighs around him, but you winced at the stretch.

For the first time he cursed the Primaris surgery. Grasping your hips, he turned you on to your front and settled behind you. He ran his hands down your back and sides, loving the way you trembled.

“Are you ready for me, my love?”

You pushed back against him. “Please, Demetrian.”

He thrust and your wet heat welcomed him in. His eyes rolled at the sensation, still so unlike anything he ever thought he’d experience. You cried out far louder than you had the first time. 

“Demetrian! S-so big…!”

Again. Again. Again, he thrust. In this position he felt powerful, primal. Like a beast claiming its mate.

The Wolves were right, damn them!

All at once, you tightened and screamed. With a growl he followed you over the edge. 

You collapsed onto your front. “Please…more….”

The first time, he’d only taken you once, denying his satisfaction for the sake of your overwhelmed little body. But now you begged him to continue. Who was he to refuse?

Three more times he released deep within. He pressed himself to your back, hand fondling your breasts as he pounded relentlessly. He lost count of how many times you shook apart around him. His own blinding pleasure paled in comparison to the knowledge that his actions relieved your pain. 

A tool designed to inflict suffering on others, but he brought you ecstasy.

“D-Demetrian…,” you whimpered. 

His fingers dug into the bruised flesh of your hips. “One more.”

You wailed as he filled you one last time, arching his spine to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Then he collapsed on his side.

He caressed your sweat-streaked back, allowing himself a brief moment to revel in the haze of pleasure. You lay still and panting next to him. 

“Are you well, my love?”

“Mmmm.”

By now, he recognized the sound of bone-deep satisfaction. He smiled down at you, already feeling his own body recovering. 

“You were right about one thing.”

“Mmm?”

“That was rather messy.”

You turned your head and attempted to glare at him. He chuckled, rose, and fetched a wet cloth from the lavatory. Ignoring your reaching hands, he cleaned the both of you. Then he sat on the edge of the cot and lifted you into his arms.

“Better?”

Your dreamy smile answered him. An entirely different kind of heat warmed his hearts as he cradled you. He ran a thumb over the imprint of teeth on your shoulder.

“I was not too rough?”

“You were perfect.” Your hands traced his new scars. “Throne of Terra, I came so close to losing you, didn’t I?”

He heard tears in your voice and held you closer.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled. “Another side effect of this time. I tend to turn into something of a weepy, clingy mess.”

“I enjoy your clinging.”

“But you need to go.”

“Yes.” As always, your respite, brief as it was, left him better prepared to handle the weight of his duty. “Will you be alright?”

“You have enough trouble without worrying about me, Demetrian. Human women have endured since our species began. I’ll be fine.” Your smile flickered. “Please, be safe. I love you.”

“And I you.” He pulled his robe back on and leaned down to kiss you once more. “I will return.”

And, I swear, I will find another way to ease your pain. 

***

An hour passed. You rested for a bit, then dressed and cleaned yourself more thoroughly. You stripped the sheets from the mattress and prepared for the trek to the laundry and then the serf’s dining hall. Not only had Titus's attentions eased your cramps, but you thought you might actually have an appetite again.

Just as you were about to leave, a few sharp raps sounded at the door.

“Who…?” 

You opened it to find a slight young woman with a face full of freckles and a satchel over one shoulder. Her robes marked her as a serf and a medica.

“Thank the Emperor!” She gushed. “I was afraid I’d gotten the wrong room!”

“Um. Hello?”

“My name is Vesta. I was just transferred here alongside my Lord Callistus. He’s supplementing the Apothecaries already in residence, you know. I was afraid I’d be the only woman! There are so few of us serving on the battle barges.”

You blinked, head-spinning from the rapid-fire chatter. “I see?”

She continued, stepping straight past you into the room. “I was just on my way back to the infirmary, when this massive Primaris Lord Angel barreled down on me. How fearsome he was! I don’t need to tell you I was terrified I’d done something wrong, and on my first day on a new ship, too! But he said you were experiencing some difficulties and needed assistance.”

Oh, Demetrian…. You fought a smile.

Vesta plopped the satchel on the cot. “I have pain suppressants, cleansing cloths, sanitary napkins. I do hope I brought enough.”

“This is incredibly kind of you.”

“Us women have to stick together, right?” She smiled cheerfully. “I hope we’ll be great friends!”

You found yourself warming to her effervescence. “I would like that.”

“You’re so fortunate to have a Lord Angel who’s attentive to your needs!”

You turned away, suddenly all too aware of the pleasant ache between your thighs. “Yes. I am.”

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss @vyzz-undercover

@missmannequin @rivalriotrenegade @iloveoutlinesiswear @jaghatai-khock

If you enjoy my writing, check out the rest of the stuff on my Masterlist.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Tags: Title From A Fall Out Boy, Fame < Infamy by Fall Out Boy, Takes Place Before The Destruction of NCR, Jealousy, Someone Else Flirts With You, Derogatory Language Towards Women, Bisexual The Ghoul, Because Walton Goggins Said So, Arguments, Confessions, First Kiss, Sub Ghoul, Poor Man Is Desperate, Teasing, Edging, Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cowgirl Position, You Wear His Hat, Light Dom/Sub, Cuddles Synopsis: After two weeks out on the job, you and The Ghoul are spending the night at a bar in Shady Shands relaxing. The Ghoul has always flirted with you, but he never meant anything by it, never did anything more, leaving you frustrated and desperately wanting the man. So when you meet someone who acts on his words, you nearly agree to spend the night with him, hoping to fill your lonely nights with another person instead of thoughts of The Ghoul. But any prospect of enjoying his company is destroyed when The Ghoul beats the man for even looking in your direction. Rightfully angry, an argument between the two of you ensues, leading to things that you only imagined would happen in your thoughts during your lonely nights.  Author’s Note: alright so normally i’m like meh about my own smut writing but i will admit i am a bit proud of this one :D Taglist: @ancientbeing10 @alex-does-art-things

The bar you were currently sitting in was dingy, seedy, and smelled like old food and piss. You didn’t even remember the name of it, too excited for the prospect of a cold drink to care, and you let The Ghoul drag you in. You were sourly disappointed when the Mr. Handy behind the counter handed you a lukewarm beer, not even a single drop of condensation on the brown bottle. 

So here you were, leaning back against a moth-eaten and weathered couch tucked in the corner, nursing a drink that just made you thirstier. He sat next to you, his legs lounged up on the low table in front of you two like he hadn’t a care in the world. You supposed that being alive for over two hundred years would do that to someone. 

The Ghoul had his own drink, a glass of whiskey, more specifically. It used to have ice in it, about ten minutes ago, but it had quickly melted, no doubt watering down the drink. Still, he continued to sip at it, his eyes roaming the crowds in the bar. Your eyes were shut, head resting against the back of the couch, catching up on some much-needed rest.

The Ghoul and you had just come back from a two-week-long excursion of the Wasteland, hunting down a group of escaped convicts from the jail in Shady Sands. Most of the time had been spent walking, searching for clues in the ending sea of sand. It had almost been impossible, but you were able to pick up a trail. It had led you to a long-since abandoned town near the shoreline of California, and after an intense firefight the two of you managed to slay them all; there was no way in hell you were escorting alive prisoners all the way back to Filly. Carrying the heads would be easier. 

And it was, except for the plethora of animals and insects it attracted, but you’d take that over the prisoners fighting you the entire time. Eventually, you and The Ghoul had made it back to Shady Sands, sweaty and covered in blood and exhausted, and dumped the heads onto the desk of the deputy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a man pale so fast. 

After The Ghoul received the cap reward, he paid for two rooms for the both of you and some sleazy hotel, and after getting washed up he had dragged you to the bar further down the street. You hadn’t had the energy to fight him, but you almost wish you had now. You were barely staying awake, head bobbing as you forced yourself to concentrate on the chatter of patrons to keep you conscious. 

Bringing the drink up to your lips, your muscles cried out in protest, but you just ignored them. The drink itself wasn’t terrible, the flavor was almost citrusy, but it felt like sandpaper as it went down your throat. Wincing, you cleared your throat, garnering the attention of the man beside you. “Surly it ain’t that bad,” he chuckled, and you cracked an eye open at him. 

You didn’t respond, just holding out the drink for him to grab. You were sure to hold it by the neck so he had plenty of space to grab it below, but you felt him grab it in a way that made his gloved finger bush over yours. You kept your face neutral, but you certainly felt your heart react, ticking up in rhythm.

After taking a sip, a similar grimace crossed his face. If he had brows, you’re sure they would be furrowed, his lips curled up in disgust. “Even I can tell that tastes like shit,” he shook his head, forcing the drink back into your hands. There was only an inch of liquid left at the bottom, and so choosing to ignore the fact that his lips had just been on the bottle, you finished it off. 

Setting it on the table, you wiped the back of your mouth with your hand. “It’s not good, sure, but it’s better than anythin’ else I’ve had in the past weeks. “So, I,” you stood with a slight groan, “am gonna get another one.”

You didn’t get too far attempting to step around the table, his legs blocking the easiest way out. A hand grabbed your wrist, tugging you back down on the couch, very nearly toppling into him. You tried to break free, but his grip was unyielding. Not enough to hurt, no, but you were stuck. “Now, what kinda man would I be if I made a pretty thing like you get their own drink?” His words made you still, and you were grateful for the shitty lighting that hid your blush. 

Little did you know that he could see you clearly, an amused smile now on his lips. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, and you were now able to yank your hand away, glaring harshly at him. “Now,” he lightly patted your thigh, making you jump, “stay here, sweetheart. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You were unable to resist the urge to flip him off as he walked towards the bar, before flopping against the couch with a huff. It wasn’t that you hated that he flirted with you. No, it was quite the opposite. You loved the comments and light touches, making your heart race and less-than-decent thoughts pour into your brain. But from the time the two of you had started working together, so roughly a year ago, that’s all it had been. Soft touches, empty promises, saccharine words and petnames that made you melt, but nothing more. He would always stop before it became more, his touch receding like you’d burned him, a witty remark that quelled the fire he stoked, an I’m just teasin’ ya, sweetheart. God, you hated those words specifically. 

 You wanted more, but it terrified you because you couldn’t tell if he actually meant something by his flirtations, or if he just enjoyed tormenting you. Friends were a rarity in the Wastleland, and you were screwed if you somehow managed to ruin things between you two. You’d be out of income, protection, and a genuine friend who (sometimes) had your best interest in mind.

So you bit your tongue, pretending like his words weren’t making you dizzy, that you wanted nothing more than to feel his body beneath you, to be able to feel his lips against yours. So many late-night fantasies that left you even more lonely in the morning, your knuckles bruised from where you had to bite them to keep quiet. Even though it hurt, you kept your desires close to your heart, treasuring the small things he did give you. Which, you’d come to realize, made it worse, but he had made you addicted to it. 

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even detect someone approaching. You expected to see the familiar face of The Ghoul beside you, but you were startled to find someone else. He was a ghoul, and even though it was hard to tell you could see that he was younger, late twenties, or early thirties if you had to guess. He wore a simple blue shirt and some jeans, way too neat and hole-less than what you were used to. 

He had a beer in hand, and he used it to gesture to the spot beside you. “This spot taken?” He was the usual rasp of a ghoul, albeit a bit higher pitched than The Ghoul’s. God, you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing him to the other man. 

Speaking of him, you were able to subtly glance behind him to the bar, and you found the other man in conversation with some others. It didn’t look to be a confrontation, luckily, and you heard laughter from the group. You focused your attention on the stranger in front of you, smiling warmly at him. “Not at all,” you patted the space beside you, only barely warm still. 

As he sat beside you, setting his drink on the table, you let yourself take him in. He wasn’t unattractive, far from it. There was almost a playfulness to his features, his fully black eyes glimmering with mirth. His arm went around the couch, and you could feel the heat from it. Even though he wasn’t the man that had plagued your thoughts, you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to the stranger, breathing growing short, your cheeks darkening slightly. You were only human after all. 

“Can’t say I’ve seen you around here before, gorgeous.” He flashed his teeth, and you were pleasantly surprised to find pretty much all of them intact, and still in good condition. Another rarity of the Wastleland. 

“I’m just passing through. Just finished up some… work.” You turned yourself to face him more.

“Work, you say? Whattya do?”

“Oh, just some odd jobs here and there. Whatever makes me money.”

He chucked at that. “Can’t blame you for that. I’m Daniel, by the way.” He held a hand out for you, ungloved and bare. You shook it, giving him your name, and he repeated it back to you. It wasn’t the drawl of The Ghoul’s voice, but it was pleasant enough. 

You expect him to drop your hand, but something about them must’ve intrigued him, and you watched, quite confused, as he filled it over. His eyes ran over your fingers, especially your forefinger and thumb, before flicking back up to yours. He still didn’t drop your hand. “You use a gun a lot?” He smirked when you nodded, bewildered. “I can tell by the callouses here,” he dragged a finger along them, tickling you slightly. 

“Well, look at you,” you laughed. “What’re you, a detective?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that. Just… observant.” He flashed you another smile, completely confident in his actions. “So, you’re a bounty hunter then?”

You didn’t bother to deny his claim, knowing the expression on your face just gave you away. Thank goodness you weren’t a con artist. “Is it gonna be a problem if I say yes?” You asked cautiously, slowly retracting your hand, ready for this interaction to go bad. You let your eyes flick to The Ghoul, locating him in case you need help. He was still at the bar, talking with someone new this time, and you felt a pang of something as the man he was talking to brushed his shoulder, nothing innocent in the touch. 

“Not a problem at all,” he answered completely honestly. “Nasty business, though.”

You glanced back at Daniel, relief flooding you. You did not have the energy for a barfight tonight. “You don’t know the half of it,” you groaned. “It’s ruthless, but I enjoy it, weirdly enough. And I’m pretty good at it.”

The hand resting on the back of the couch shifted, and you felt his fingers brush over your shoulders, making you shiver slightly. I like a girl that can handle herself,” he admitted. “Strong,”  he gently squeezed the muscles in your biceps. “Confident. Powerful.” His voice turned into a whisper at the end, mouth pressed close to your ear. 

You were quite flustered now. “Well, you’re in luck then.”

“It seems I am. So, what say you, bounty hunter? Do you wanna get out of here in a bit, have some fun tonight before you head off?”

It had been a long time since you’d had someone in your bed. Since about when you started working with The Ghoul, to be exact. You’re not sure why you hadn’t in so long; it wasn’t for a lack of options. You just… couldn’t bring yourself to take someone to bed that wasn’t The Ghoul. Still, you hated waking up alone each morning, loneliness clawing at your heart. And when you’d see men and women stumble from his room, it felt like someone shot you, making you irritable with him for days to come. Maybe for once you’d have someone leaving your room, your heart content, if for a moment. Maybe you could imagine that it wasn’t Daniel, picture the other man’s features instead.

Maybe he would feel the same way you felt as he watched Daniel sneak from your room. That idea made you grin, and any hesitance about taking him to bed vanished. 

You didn’t get a chance to respond, though, before two familiar gloved hands rested on Daniel’s shoulders, making the man tense. He was forcibly pulled back from you, the force of the pull nearly making him fall off the couch. He caught himself, and you watched as he stood and faced The Ghoul. 

The shade from his hat hid most of his face, but even then you could see the hatred in his eyes as he stared down Daniel. The Ghoul was a formidable opponent, but you have to give some credit to Daniel as he squared up against him. “The hell’s your problem, man?” If the way The Ghoul had yanked Daniel hadn’t gotten the attention of the crowd, Daniel’s words surely did. Behind them, you watched a small crowd begin to form, and you wished to just let the shadows consume you. 

“She’s… off-limits,” he titled his head to the side. The action would make any sane person falter, and you watched as Daniel’s posture went rigid, fear hitting him. 

Still, Daniel didn’t let up, male pride and all that. “Maybe you should let her know, then,” he gestured angrily to you, and you shrank lower into the seat. “By the way she was lettin’ me talk to her, I can imagine the whole town’s probably had their way-”

His words, which had been so sweet moments ago, were cut off when The Ghoul grabbed him by the throat, slamming him onto the table in front of you. You jumped off the couch as splinters of wood and glass sprayed everywhere, narrowly avoiding you. Mortified, you could do nothing but watch as The Ghoul began to beat the man, blood joining in with the debris. If Daniel had a nose left, you were sure it would be pulverized. 

The Ghoul’s lips had curled up into a snarl, his eyes blazing as he leered down at the man, stopping his assault. Daniel tried to pry the other man’s hand from his throat, a choked gasp leaving him, yet that seemed to just make his grip tighter. “Gimme one reason why I shouldn’t just kill ya?” He growled, shoving Daniel’s head into the ground. He could barely garble out a reply, the words indistinguishable. 

Glass shattered on the floor as The Ghoul tossed the man into another table, another piece of furniture destroyed. As he stalked towards the downed man, he rolled over onto his hands and knees, rubbing at his throat. He was coughing and sputtering, genuine fear in his eyes as he looked up at the bounty hunter. Crouching before him, The Ghoul regarded him slowly, nothing but disgust on his features. 

“Fuck… she all yours,” Daniel managed to pant out between coughs. “Just… God, don’t kill me!”

Satisfied with his answer, The Ghoul kicked him one last time for good measure, sending him sprawling back. It was dead silent in the bar, and patrons gawked and shuffled away as The Ghoul walked to where you had been standing, only to find you gone. 

You had slipped out when he had thrown him, unable to continue watching. The streets were busy, and you kept your head down as you wove between people, heading to the hotel as quickly as you could. Too many emotions overwhelmed you, and you took a deep breath and began to collect your thoughts. 

First, you were embarrassed. 

You were embarrassed that they had been fighting over you. When you weren’t on a job, you hated creating conflict, not wanting to be the center of attention. You had plenty of that doing bounty hunting. This was supposed to be a night where you relaxed, to forget all about the horrors of the world you lived in, with or without The Ghoul, but that plan was tossed aside. 

Secondly, you were angry. 

Fuming would be a better word for it, and if you looked hard enough you could probably see the steam pouring from your ears. You were pissed that he had ruined a possibly enjoyable night with another person, ending your celibate streak. You were pissed that he felt like he could just take control of your choices like that. And you were pissed that you never got that next drink, although that was the least of your concerns at this point. 

Finally, you were confused.

Why had he reacted the way he did? It wasn’t like there was anything between you two, as much as it pained you to come to terms with it. Why did he care who you took to bed? He had taken plenty of people to bed during the time you’d worked together, and you’d never made a complaint about it. Why were you weirdly attracted to his display of… jealousy? Was it jealousy? You couldn’t even imagine what that could mean if it was. 

The sound of your name being shouted behind you forcefully tore you from your thoughts. You immediately recognized it, and you refrained from looking over at him. Ducking your head, you hoped that you blended in well with the others on the street, and you continued to briskly walk towards the hotel. 

You heard your name being called again, this time closer, and so you picked up the pace, nearly jogging at this point. You heard the sound of people crying out in alarm, and you knew that he was getting closer to you, barreling through the crowds without any thought. 

You could see the neon sign of the hotel, now lit, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. That feeling was short-lived, panic making your stomach drop when you heard The Ghoul right behind you. “Don’t make me fuckin’ tackle ya,” you heard him threaten. For a moment, you debated just ignoring him, but you knew that he didn’t make empty threats. Besides, the ground was dusty, and you’d rather not spend the rest of the night covered in sand.

Groaning, you finally halted, turning to face him with a scowl. You didn’t respond, just raising a brow and gesturing for him to ‘get on with it’. Your jaw was clenched so hard, and you could feel the headache that threatened to torment you later because of it. 

“The fuck was that about?” 

God, was he joking with you? “I should be the one asking you that! In what world was that a rational response?”

People stared as they passed, but you both just ignored them. “He was touchin’ ya.”

“And did I look even remotely disinterested? Was there any part of my body language that read that I was even the tiniest bit uncomfortable?” You laughed bitterly at the lack of response from him; you both knew what the answer was. “Why the hell do you even care if he was touching me or not?”

He was silent again, and you just scoffed, taking a few steps back. “Whatever,” you sighed in defeat, before turning and walking the remaining way to the hotel. You were almost disappointed when you didn’t hear him following behind you. 

The person behind the desk recognized you, and you were able to quickly make your way up to the second floor where your room was. You made sure to not let your eyes wander to the door where he was staying that night, a few feet down from yours on the other side of the hallway. 

When you were finally alone in your room, you resisted the urge to just scream angrily. Instead, you kicked off your shoes, which hit the walls with a loud noise, and you flopped onto your bed. Laying on your back with your arms spread, you stared at the surprisingly intact ceiling, frustrated tears stinging your eyes. Disagreements always upset you, but there was something about this one that made you feel ill, a sense of dread that you’d never felt before filled your body. 

You’re not sure how long you just lay there, calming your racing heart and your heightened emotions. It must’ve been a while, because you dozed off, the exhaustion in your body now taking control.

A light knock at the door woke you, and for a second you thought you had just imagined it. When it came again, more forceful, you sighed, knowing exactly who was on the other side of the door. Like before, you debated just ignoring him, but you didn’t want to be charged for the destruction of more property. “What?” You snapped out, still not in the mood to talk to him yet. 

“We need to talk.” The Ghoul responded, sounding less irritated than you. 

“Yeah, no shit.” I gave you plenty of time to explain yourself downstairs. 

You could hear him sigh through the thin wood door. “Sweetheart.” You hated that he knew how to get you to do whatever you wanted. You couldn’t even stop yourself as you sat up and made your way to the door. With no hesitation you opened it, his endearment almost putting you under a spell.

It was dissipated when you saw him, those emotions flooding your mind instead. The door was only open a crack, your body filling it as you glared at the other man. “Yes?

“Let me talk to ya,” he sighed in frustration. 

“You are.” You couldn’t care less that you were being stubborn and difficult. He deserved it.

His jaw clenched. “Inside.”

You didn’t respond, mulling over his words as you stared at him, fire never once leaving your eyes. Finally, you relented, against your better judgment. Stepping back, you left the door open, leaning up against one of the dressers with your arms crossed. You watched as he entered, the door clicking shut in finality, looking like he expected to be attacked by you at any second. You were almost proud to instill that level of fear in him.

He kept a respectful distance away from you, loitering near the foot of the bed. “Look, I’m… sorry.” He said the words like they were brand new. 

He left it at that, and you scoffed. You knew that you should just accept his apology and move on. You knew that you shouldn’t instigate something, to purposely start an argument with your traveling partner. But you were still too damn angry to care. You needed him to know what you felt.

“‘Sorry��? I get nothing more than that?”

“What’dya want from me then, sweetheart?” He growled, your anger rubbing off on him. “You want me to get down on my fuckin’ knees, plead for your forgiveness? You want me to promise I ain’t ever gonna do it again, even though it’ll be a damn lie? What the fuck do you want from me?” He spat the last sentence out, emphasizing each word.

The image of him on his knees before you flashed in your mind, and you had to admit it did seem appealing. But not now. 

He was getting closer to you now. Slow, methodical steps, but he was closer, and continuing. “I want an explanation.”

You might’ve as well just slapped him, the way he halted in his tracks, stunned. Words seemed to evade him, and the anger that had just been rolling off him in waves subsided, still there yet not as strong. It should’ve had the opposite effect, but your rage was growing, threatening to burst. “Oh, so now you can’t talk? It’s a simple request!”

“It’s really fuckin’ not.”

“Why?” Silence. “You’ve got two options here. You either suck it up and tell me, or you get the hell out of here. It’s your choice.”

You could tell that he hated the choice you gave him, but you didn’t care. You expected to watch him turn and storm out the door, leaving your relationship in tatters on the dirty hotel floor. So you were surprised when he took a deep breath and remained where he was. “I hated that he was touchin’ you."

“So you were jealous?” You ignored the way you were elated when he nodded, albeit with some hesitancy. The anger subsided, and you felt pure want take its place. “You wanted to be him,” you whispered, taking a step towards him. Your confidence grew at how hungrily he watched you. 

“You wanted to be the one whispering those words, to be running their fingers on my body.” Another step. “You wanted to be the one to take me to bed, to feel me, to fuck me.” You were finally close enough to him that you could touch him if you wish, but you kept your hands by your sides.

The Ghoul groaned at your words, and you couldn’t help the small smirk on your face at his reaction. “Do you want that?” You asked, needed to hear confirmation. 

It came almost immediately. “Fuck, yes.” His own hands reached out to touch you, but you swatted them away. That snapped him out of his semi-trance, his eyes flashing with confusion.

“You don’t get to touch me yet.”

 Something new flashed in his eyes instead, something you couldn’t quite name. “Sweetheart-”

“Sit down.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you just shot him a look, silencing him instantly. The bed groaned as he sat on the edge of it, eyes never leaving yours. It made him stand a head lower than you now, and he had to look up to continue holding your gaze. “How does it feel? To watch someone else get the things you want?”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. “It hurts, doesn’t it? It feels like someone’s stabbed you in the heart, no? So,” you moved between his legs, “how do you think I felt? After you flirt with me, then take someone else to bed. After you touch me, toy with me, but then act like my body disgusts you, and you recoil away. After you say those things that leave me shaking and wanting, but then never act of them.” 

Your hands grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and you brought your face close to his. “I’ve seen you take countless lovers to bed during the time we’ve worked together, and I never said a peep. Even though it fucking killed me to see. That man in the bar, the one you beat senseless? That was gonna be the first person that’d occupied my bed in almost a year. And no, I didn’t really want him that badly, but maybe I could finally go to bed for one night and not have my thoughts be entirely of you.”

Shoving his back lightly, you stumbled back a few steps, the confession that had just spilled from your lips making you breathless. “I have to know; did you mean it? All the flirting, the touches, everything. Did you mean it?”

For once, The Ghoul kept any remarks to himself, and sheer honesty was written across his face. There before you, you saw a vulnerable man, gazing up at you like you hung the stars. “I did. I do.”

“Do you want me?” Cautiously, you began to move back towards him.

“Every fuckin’ minute.”

When you were back between his legs, you let your hands rest on the lapels, no longer strangling the poor material. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

A hopeful smile graced his lips, his eyes flicking down to your lips which hovered above him. After nodding lightly, you let yourself move closer until your lips just brushed over his, barely making contact. “A shame, then.” You pulled away before they could fully connect, a victorious smile on your face as you looked down at the confused man.

“Oh, you thought you’d be getting what you wanted tonight? You ran your hands up, resting on the sides of his neck now. You could feel his heart hammering. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not. No, tonight you’re gonna feel as desperate as I’ve felt for the past year. And,” you made sure that he was especially paying attention to your words now, “if you think that at any point tonight you’re gonna have control, you’re wrong. Any objections?”

His eyes had blown out during your little speech, small pants leaving his lips as he stared up at you. He was already so eager, and you’d barely done anything yet. Even still, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, and you realized he’d probably never given up control in the bedroom. You let the facade drop for a moment. “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. Not ever. You just gotta let me know, and we’ll stop immediately.”

Any uncertainty left him, and something warmed in your chest at the fact that he trusted you enough to do something like this. “You ready?”

He nodded, and you shook your head. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, not expecting the name from you. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” You rewarded him with a soft kiss on the cheek before grabbing his hat off his head. “Go get comfortable on the bed.” 

Stepping away from him, you set his hat on the nightstand as he got situated, his now bare head resting on the pillows. Making sure he had returned his attention to you, you heard his gasp when you grabbed the hem of your shirt, turning into an appreciative groan when you tore it off your head. You wore a simple black bra beneath, but you might as well have been wearing the most beautiful piece of lingerie with the way his eyes widened, a smile on his face again. You made quick work of your jeans, and you refrained from shivering as the air hit your now-exposed skin, clad in only your undergarments. But how could you be cold when he was looking at you with such heat in his eyes?

The bed creaked again when you got on it, and you adjusted until you straddled his abdomen. His clothing dug into your skin, but you could hardly feel it. Planting your hands on his chest, you leaned forward until your face was only an inch from his. He watched you with hooded eyes, which fluttered close when your lips pressed against his jaw, moving up until you stopped right below his ear. 

Gloved hands rested on your bare waist, and as much as you enjoyed feeling his hands on your body, you couldn’t let up that easily. “Did I say you could touch me yet?” You whispered, and you felt him slowly rescind his touch, now resting on the bedsheets beside him. “Good job,” you praised, and you felt him shudder slightly. Interesting. “If you behave, I might just let you touch me,” you offered, like dangling a piece of food in front of a starving animal. 

“Yeah?” 

You just smiled against his skin. 

Continuing your exploration, you moved inward, barely feeling the ridges of the indents of his skin. Moving up his cheek, to across where his nose would be, then to the other cheek, you littered his face with kisses, purposely avoiding his lips. His eyes continued to flutter open and close, and at this proximity, you were able to see short, brown eyelashes. How… peculiar. And cute. 

You didn’t make any comment on them, choosing to move back down again. But you went past his jaw this time, down to his neck, and you felt his head roll back to allow you more room. You felt him jump when you sunk your teeth into the skin before moaning beautifully, and you ran over the hurt with your tongue. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his hands instinctively went up to touch you, then resting back down on the bed, grabbing at the bedsheets instead. 

There wasn’t much exposed skin left when you reached where his neck and shoulders met, his shirt now covering it. Leaning back, you gestured for him to sit up, helping ease the jacket off his shoulders when he did. He pulled his arms out, and it pooled around his waist, still sitting on most of it. You didn’t care, as long as you could get his get his shirt off.

You hesitated a second before beginning to fiddle with the buttons, glancing up into his eyes. “Alright?” 

“You don’t gotta keep askin’, sweetheart,” he responded breathlessly. “I’ll let you know if I don’t want somethin’.”

You grinned at him, before quickly getting to work and taking off his button-up shirt. With every inch of his body that was revealed to you, you felt your heart accelerate, excitement bubbling in you. He had just gotten his arms out of the garment and had tossed it to the floor before you were forcing him back down on the bed with hands on his chest, loving how easily he complied. 

You let your fingers drag down the front of his chest, nails scratching lightly. Even with the thick scarring covering his body, he was still able to feel it, and he shivered. Your breath caught when you finally looked for yourself, instead of letting your touch see for you. To say he was gorgeous would be an understatement. All lean muscle, you could feel them flex and jump when you touched him, and for a moment you remembered how strong this man was. And here he was, submitting to your every request. You really did try to not let it go to your head. 

“You’re so beautiful, Cooper.” You hadn’t even realized you’d let his real name slip until he went deathly still beneath you. Glancing up at him, you couldn’t read the expression on his face, and you thought you went too far. Still, he had yet to say anything, and so you kept your mouth shut. You trusted that he would stop you.

Continuing to touch him, you barely heard the soft plea that he uttered. “Say it again.” 

The expression clicked now, and you smiled gently at him. You felt truly happy, knowing there was another thing he trusted you with. “Cooper,” you sighed, and you were startled when you felt his hands grasp at you, desperately trying to pull you towards him. You braced on his chest, stopping him, and you glanced at where his hands now rested until he tore them away. You made a disapproving noise as you leaned back down, teasing him by brushing your lips against his. But with the way you were sitting and the way you pressed down on his chest, he couldn’t meet you, and you heard him make a frustrated noise.

“Do I gotta tie your hands up, Cooper?” You semi-joked, gauging his reaction. When his eyes somehow darkened even more, you knew he was down. 

You both knew that he could easily “break free” from the restraints you’d placed on him; he had ghoul strength, and you were just a human. But he continued to play into your game, and you were grateful for it. You were having too much fun. 

“If ya keep sayin’ my name like that, then ya might have to.” 

“Oh, you’re too good to me, baby,” you praised, hands retracting so you could reach behind you. You smirked at his reaction when you tugged at his belt, being sure to purposely graze over the evident strain in his pants. You gave him the most innocent look you could when he glared at you, returning your touch to his belt. It took a bit of maneuvering, and with some help from him raising his hips, you were able to free it.

The headboard was made from metal bars, so you were easily able to secure his wrists to it. The restraint wasn’t tight, tight enough to keep him in place, but if he severely needed to leave then he could easily escape. When you sat back, you admired the sight before you. Your wildest dreams were playing out right in front of you, and you couldn’t be more excited.t

Starting at the base of his throat, you began to move down his body, pressing your lips against the skin as you descended. When you reached his nipples, you let your tongue flick over it, eliciting a whine from him. Your fingers toyed with the other one, making him squirm. You couldn’t deny that the noises he was making were making you dizzy, a familiar tension building in you. But you kept an amused and unaffected expression on your face, not wanting to break yet. 

You didn’t stay there for long, continuing your descent downwards. You scratched lightly over his abs when you reached them, and you figured goosebumps would be covering his body by now.

 “I could just leave you like this, you know,” you commented as you moved backward. “Hands bound, aching, wanting.” Your hands trailed down his thighs. 

“You wouldn’t,” he groaned, and you just flashed a smile at him.

“Oh, but I could.” You now rested just below his thighs, your own straddling them. “I could just sit here and make you watch as I touch myself, make myself cum, screaming your name.” You heard the belt rattle against the bedframe when you let one of your hands trail down your stomach, a gasp leaving you when you reached the band of your underwear. “Then leave you alone with just your thoughts, imagining all the things you could’ve done to me. Just how I spent every night this past year. Revenge is a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Sweetheart, please.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so wonderful, arousal spiking in your body. His eyes bore into you as you reached behind you, unclasping your bra. You let it slide off your body before setting it gently on the floor. Squeezing your breasts in your hands, you let your head roll back, his name tumbling from you. You debated moaning the other man’s name, the one in the bar, but you couldn’t remember it. Besides, you were torturing the man enough, and you assumed that he would tear through his bindings if you did. 

Eventually, you took pity on him, and your desire was starting to get in the way of your need to draw this out. He jumped when you rested your hands on his thighs, expecting you to do what you said, and you could feel the relief it brought him.

It didn’t take long for you to unbutton his pants, even less to unzip them. You tugged both them and his boxers down enough to free him. He was already rock hard, almost painfully so, and a strangled groan left him. The noise shot straight to your core, and you sighed in appreciation at him. He was long, not overwhelmingly so, but you knew you’d be feeling him for days to come. 

Keeping your eyes on him, you leaned forward and lapped at the tip, licking the bead of moisture there. You watched as he tried to move to touch you, and you grinned at him when the restraint stopped him. You could see the plea in his eyes, and you just shook your head at him. Not yet. 

Another run of your tongue made him curse, and you cooed at him. “Want me to take care of this, baby?”

“Please,” he gasped out.

“Well, when you ask that nicely.”

He didn’t get a chance to prepare before you were running your tongue along his entire length, base to tip, before taking as much of him as you could in your mouth. You took what you couldn’t fit in your hand, moving in tandem with your mouth as you sucked him. It was nearly unintelligible, but you heard your name being moaned by him. 

Bobbing your head up and down, you were unrelenting in the pleasure you were giving him, and you could feel his hips begin to buck and twist, and you moved your mouth off him before he could hit the back of your throat. 

Glancing up at him, he looked absolutely wrecked, and the fact made you smile cruelly. You could tell that he was close, by the way he pulsed and throbbed in your hand as you continued to stroke him. Your name was just streaming from him freely, straining and pressing against the belt. The bedpost made an awful noise, but it was covered by his noises. “You close, Cooper?”

His head had been thrown back against the pillows as pleasure coursed through him, but you watched as he flicked his gaze down to you. “Fuck, sweetheart, yes.” You hadn’t meant to, but you let it slip through in your expression what you were planning, and dread washed over his face. He groaned you name, almost in warning, but you ignored him. 

To his very evident displeasure, you let go of him, his incoming release ebbing away as you sat up. A string of curses left him, and a drop of sweat rolled down his face. His eyes were blazing with lust and anger, but they melted a bit when regarding you. At least the anger did. The lust seemed to just flare up, especially when he as you stood to slip off your underwear. “You only get to cum when I do, got it?”

He was able to see the evidence of your arousal on them as you discarded them, and even in the position he was in a cocky smile grew on his face. “Perfectly.” That cocky smile was wiped off when he saw you reach for his hat, putting it on your head as you climbed back onto the bed. As you straddled his lap, realization flashed on his features. “Are you tryin’ to fuckin’ kill me?” He wheezed, a mix of laughter and a groan. 

“I’m surprised I haven’t already,” you teased back, your hands bracing on his chest. Just like you thought, his heart pounded against your fingertips. Rocking your hips slowly, you began to rut against him, coating him in your arousal. 

You heard the tell-tale clink of his belt rattling against the bedframe. “Can I touch ya now, sweetheart?” He gasped out.

You seriously considered it for a moment, but you decided against it. “When you make me cum, you can. But if you finish before me…” You let the words trail off, the threat evident enough.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue, knowing that it would get him further away from what he wanted. You grinned at his compliance, rewarding him by getting on your knees and lining him up with your entrance. Sinking onto him, a gasp tore from you as he pressed into you. It had been so long since you’d been stretched like this, and it felt even better than you remembered. Or maybe it was because it was with him. 

His grip was vice-like against the metal bars as you slowly sank down on his cock, almost painful-sounding grunts and moans leaving him. It was a slow process, but eventually, you felt your hips go flush with his. “Oh, Cooper, baby,” you groaned, and you felt him twitch inside of you.

“You… you can’t say shit like that and then expect me to last,” he whined, and you laughed gently. 

“You need a moment?” You refrained from adding ‘baby’ to the end, knowing he was about to snap. 

A shaky exhale left him. “Just… just a moment.”

You hummed in response, letting yourself sit there for a moment. It felt like torture, wanting nothing more than to ride him, but you held back. You tried to not move too much, either, and you eventually felt his breathing calm some. It was still sporadic, but not as much as before. 

“Go ‘head now.” You didn’t have to be told twice. 

Starting with a slow roll of your hips, you began to move up and down. One hand was planted on his chest, the other on his hat to keep in on your head as it rolled back. It only took a few moments for you to fall into a rhythm, the slow movements gradually building to something faster. 

“Cooper, fuck, you feel so good,” you moaned, and you heard him make some noise in agreeance. Another roll of your hips made you see stars, and you could feel that familiar tension begin to build, slowly but surely. 

“What a sight you are,” he murmured between breaths, and you looked down to see him staring at you, almost mesmerized. “Wearin’ my hat while ya fuck yourself on my cock. Fuck, a man could die happy like this.”

You tried to grin down at him, but the pleasure became too much as you continued to rock, and you felt yourself falter. Instead, you just moaned out fragments of his name. He was all you could feel, pressing into spots that made you cry out, hitting them with each roll. “Baby.”

God, you loved the way he reacted whenever you uttered that name. His hips jumped, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The hand planted on his chest dug into the toughened skin, nails no doubt leaving indents, but he didn’t seem to mind. Even though your legs were beginning to shake, you didn’t let up, moving up and down, your breathing becoming labored. You could feel yourself getting closer; you just needed a little more.

After angling your body to keep it steady, you let go of his hat, moving your hands to between your legs. It made you groan, feeling the way his cock moved in and out of you as you began to rub at your clit. The extra stimulation made you cry his name out loudly, and you knew there would be complaints from the other patrons of the hotel.

Your walls tightened around him, making him bite down harshly on his bottom lip to keep from cumming right there. His eyes flicked downward, his mouth going slack as he watched you touch yourself. He forced himself to look away, blown-out eyes staring into yours. You could see the tendons in his neck strain as he concentrated on controlling his release. 

The extra pleasure was what you needed, and you could feel your impending release inch closer. “You close, sweetheart?” His voice was hoarse, and you nodded furiously. “You gonna cum on my cock? Fuck, yeah you are.”

“Cooper, you can…” Your words were cut off with a whine. 

He seemed to get what you were saying, and he groaned in relief. “Can I finish in ya, sweetheart? Fill up that perfect cunt?”

“Please.” For the first time during the night, you pleaded for something. You were on the verge of release, your movements growing frantic as you chased your release.

“C’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel ya.” 

As you cried out his name again, you came, your body going slack as pleasure made you boneless. It wasn’t your first orgasm in a year, far from it, but it felt so much better when it came from another person. Your nerves hummed and you felt weightless, soft whines and pants leaving you. 

You barely managed to catch yourself before you fell on top of him, and the clench of you around him was all he needed for his own release, having staved it off for a long time now. He was even louder than you were, your name coming out like a sharp bark as he came, and you could feel his release seep into you, coating you. 

The room felt awfully quiet now, even though it was filled with the sound of both of you catching your breaths. With unstable legs, you lifted yourself up and off of him, and you watched as his spend dripped out of you and onto his abdomen. Groans both left you at this sight. 

You had been so caught up in the sight that it nearly startled you when you heard the clinking noise again. Glancing up at him, he gave you an expectant look, an almost teasing smirk on his face as he rattled the belt again. “You gonna release me? I’ve been good.” You scoffed at the way he pouted at you.

“You have been,” you agreed. “My good boy,” you added as you reached for the belt. His eyes widened, sucking in a gasp, and if could, he would be blushing. 

You just smirked down at him as you released him, but that victory was short-lived when you felt his hands immediately shoot to your body. He practically yanked you down to his mouth, desperately claiming your lips in a messy kiss. His hands roamed over every part of your body, the rough skin making you whine in pleasure, and you could feel his responding smile. 

As much as you were loving his attention, you had to admit you were incredibly exhausted, especially now. A yawn tore through you, interrupting the kiss, and you pulled back. “Am I borin’ you, sweetheart?” He asked, amused.

“You could never. But I don’t think I can do all that again,” you laughed breathlessly. 

“There’s always tomorrow,” he smirked. “And the next day. And the next.”

You slapped lightly at his chest, chuckling. “Eager, are we?”

“Desperately,” he growled lightly before pulling you back to his lips. This kiss was gentler, although no less passionate. He laughed boisterously when you pulled away to yawn again, fingers halting their exploration. 

When you tried to pull away, though, he didn’t let go, keeping your body close. “Baby, I need to get us cleaned up,” you laughed, trying and failing to escape his hold. “I’m not going to bed covered in…” You trailed off, too embarrassed to finish the sentence. You tried to wiggle free, and you sighed in defeat when he didn’t let go. 

“You’re blushin’,” he teased, making your ears burn more. “You were spewin’ those filthy things earlier without a second thought, but now you’re actin’ all shy?”

“I hate you,” you grumbled.

“Sure ya do, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “How ‘bout this? You finish what you were ‘bout to say, and I’ll let ya go. For a minute or two, that is.”

You sighed again. “I was saying that I’m not going to bed covered in your cum,” you said with major hesitancy, your ears on fire. 

“Why not?”

You slapped his chest again. “I did what you asked. Let me go, Cooper.”

He debated it for a moment. “Fine,” you felt his hand let up its hold, “but if you ain’t back in a minute, I’m draggin’ ya back to the bed.”

Now on a timer, you quickly got off his lap, not before pressing one last kiss to his cheek. On shaky legs, you made your way to the bathroom, flipping him off when he laughed at your inability to walk in a straight line. After using the bathroom, you used one of the provided washrags, dampening it before running it between your legs, and cleaning you up. Grabbing a new one, you dampened it as well before heading back to the bathroom.

He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, the rest of his clothing discarded on the floor, and he looked up when he saw you enter. “Thought I was ‘bout to drag you back,” he commented as you approached him, grinning when he saw your unabashed staring. “Like what ya see?”

You wiped that proud expression off when the cold washcloth made contact with his skin, and you quickly wiped him down. He hissed when it ran over his cock, and you muttered a small apology. You tried to move back to the bathroom to discard the cloth, but you felt him wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him. You felt him kiss the back of your neck, and you felt him yank the cloth from your hand, tossing it vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. 

He pulled you back onto the bed, adjusting the covers so that they covered you both, the one arm never leaving your waist, his face burrowed into your neck. Out of all the things you expected him to be, a cuddler was not one of them. But you certainly weren’t complaining.

Because of the heat of him behind you, and the exertion of the day's activities, you felt exhaustion take over you again, and your eyes fluttered close. “You still owe me anther drink,” you heard yourself mutter. 

The rumble of his chest from his laughter was the last thing you remembered before you fell asleep. 

Author’s Note: i stole the hat thing from one of my other fics, but i love it so much that i needed to use it again. also might write a continuation/pt.2 to this, idk yet.

also thank you @kinatanhi yet again for the comment that helped inspire all this <3

[tayraedoll]

Chivalry Is Alive and Well in Hell

Welcome to part 3 of Old Man!

Part 1 Part 2

TW: Swearing, fluff, mature themes

Word Count: 1,675

You feel your mind start to reach consciousness before your physical body. You feel like you are floating, time and space mean nothing in this zone. Slowly, the outside world begins to register to you, and it is less than fucking pleasant.

Your entire body hurt like hell- your skin feels like it is on fire, your joints feel like they were stretched in a medieval torture device, your throat was raw and dry, and it felt like you have not had any food for weeks. With an undignified groan you stretch out, wincing as your nerves shoot lighting bolts through your sore muscles. What the fuck happened to you? Were you hit by a train?

Suddenly, your memories wash over you and your eyes shoot open. Oh yea, Conductor Alastor was at the controls, and you rode that crazy train for 72.FUCKING.HOURS.

You look around, you were alone in bed; Alastor's side was cold letting you know he has been up for awhile. The bed itself was a disaster. The sheets were ripped and torn, the pieces chaotically strewn around the mattress. Both yourself and the bed were covered in sweat, blood, slick, and cum- the mixture dry and clinging to your skin uncomfortably. You bring an arm up to your face and take a whiff, recoiling immediately at the atrocious way you smelled and wrinkling your nose. Disgusting, a shower was definitely first on the agenda. But before that, where was the man responsible for this mess?

As if answering your unspoken question, Alastor suddenly appeared next to the bed. "Ah Darling, there you are! I was wondering how long you would sleep for", he gives you a wide grin. "How are you feeling Ma Biche?"

You take a moment to look him over, he was as pristine and put-together as ever. He was freshly showered, no bodily fluids covering him at all, his hair neatly styled, and his perfect, red suit pressed neatly over his form. Not a single trace of evidence of the last 3 days was anywhere to be found on him. Worse yet, his movements were as lithe and graceful as a panther's, no hint of any bodily soreness in his gait. It all left you feeling extremely self-conscious and rather inferior. You grab a scrap of a blanket and bring it up to your chest in an attempt to hide yourself and throw a glare at his perfect form. "Everything hurts, and I'm pretty sure I am dying." He wouldn't get the reference but you did not care, it fit your mood too well. "How long was I out for? You look...well.", you narrow your eyes at him.

He chuckles, his microphone playing an upbeat jazz tune, his whole demeanor was light-hearted. "You have been asleep for about 24 hours." Your jaw drops, "24 hours?! Why the fuck didn't you wake me up Al?!"

He reaches down and wraps his hand around your wrist, bringing it up to his lips to plant a tender kiss on the back of your hand. "You needed your rest Sha. Your first mating session took a lot out of you."

You look down, there was a tenderness in his eyes that tugged at your heart and you were not ready to not be annoyed with him. "And what about you?", you ask, subtly accusing him of leaving and making you wake up alone after all you two did together.

"I do not require the same amount of rest as you do. Additionally, I had to reassure our companions that we did not run off after our inexplicable absences the past few days. I do believe our resident fallen angel still thinks I have consumed you", he laughs at the last sentence. "Well, I suppose I have, just not in the way she is thinking", his eyes trail over your arms and throat, cataloging every scratch, hickey, and bite. Without warning, he swoops down and scoops you up into his arms.

"What are you doing?! Put me down!", you screech. Not only were you still a little annoyed with him, but you did not want him to smell you at the moment!

He just laughs, still in a good mood, and begins whistling as he enters his bathroom. He sets you down on the counter and gives you a curt "stay" command that you roll your eyes at- you are not a dog!- but you stay there anyways, fearing that your legs would buckle under you again if you tried to stand.

You watch as he collects things from various cupboards and drawers before turning to his huge bathtub. He turns the water on and dips various liquids into the tub as it filled. The warm steam felt amazing, the scents of lavender and eucalyptus reached your nose and you sighed. He finishes the bath off with a bright pink bath bomb, the fizzing sound it made so satisfying to your ears. Alastor then turns back to you, scooping you into his arms again before gently lowering you into the hot water. You wince and let out a hiss as the water makes every mark on your body sing momentarily. But you are soon able to relax and lean back, enjoying the sense of calm that envelops you. You close your eyes and let out a contented sigh.

You hear the rustle of fabric beside the tub and peep one eye open, seeing Alastor place his jacket neatly on the countertop you were just perched on. He rolls up the sleeves of his crimson dress shirt to his elbows and grabs a small pitcher before settling on the floor next to the tub. He places a hand on your shoulder and directs you to sit up slightly before placing a finger under your chin and tipping your head back. He dipped the pitcher into the water and poured it over your hair, using his free hand to run his fingers through it to make sure he wet every strand.

"What are you doing?", you asked as he lathered shampoo between his hands.

"Upholding my end of our deal My Doe," he explained as he scrubbed the shampoo over your head, carefully using his claws to scratch the base of your skull. Gentle jazz filled the room at a low volume, just barely loud enough to hear, furthering the relaxing ambiance.

When he began combing the conditioner through your hair you side-eyed him. "I do not remember bathing me being a part of our deal. I assure you I am perfectly capable of doing this myself Al."

"If I remember correctly, I said I would protect and love you with all I am. I am simply looking after your well-being, it is not an attack on your independence. I feel better when I can take care of you the way a man should take care of his lady. I believe we have had this conversation about men no longer being chivalrous before." He picked up a fresh sponge and began rubbing it in small circles down each arm, careful not to hurt your healing flesh. Then he gently turned you by your shoulders to face away from him as he ran the sponge down your back.

"I really think you are a rare breed. I doubt all the men from your time did this. They may have been chivalrous in public- but how many of them turned into completely different people behind closed doors alone with their wives? You are probably one of only a handful of men in history to act as servant to their partner." He turned you back around to face him, moving the sponge down you chest and abdomen, working his way down to your legs.

"Isn't that the foundation of love Darling? To provide for another's needs? To serve them?" When he was satisfied that you were clean he reached for a towel, beckoned you to step out of the tub as he pulled the drain, and wrapped you up burrito-style. It felt as if he had just taken the towel out of the dryer it was so warm. "I promise to treat you the way my mother would want me to treat you." Alastor said that last part so softly, you were sure you were not meant to hear it, the only reason you heard it was because of your ultra sensitive doe ears. He hardly ever spoke of his life, he would really only talk about his mother when he would cook you a dish she had taught him how to make. You hoped that this small admission would open the door to more intimate discussions about his past. For now, you would not press him.

You leaned up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Well, I am glad my old geezer has held onto his old-fashioned chivalry", you smirked up at him devilishly.

"Oh, we are reverting back to our ageist feud now are we Fawn?"

You gave him a shrug. "So, that was mating season huh? So what do we do the rest of the year until your refractory period ends?" you wink and laugh at your own joke.

Alastor's eyes flash menacingly, his smile turning more Cheshire before responding "Oh it's not over yet Little Doe."

Your own smile fell, "Er..what? But we did it, for the entire 72 hours!"

The demon buck stalked towards you, backing you up into the bathroom vanity, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you to cage you in against him. "You are but sated for now Darling. But does are polyestrous creatures. I suspect you will have at least one, if not two more heat cycles before the mating season is up."

Your eyes grew wide and you let out an incredulous laugh, whispering under your breath "Oh fuck me!"

Alastor let out a sinister laugh of his own, eyes turning to radio dials and antlers sprouting out from his head,"Trust me my doe, you will be. THOROUGHLY."

The end! Hope you enjoyed it!

@stattikdemon

@vxllys

@sirens-and-moonflowers

@lady-intellectual

@shealizxx

@cryssyd

[wolfofcelestia]

When he asks you if you're attracted to him

Because even the most aloof of men get self-conscious in front of the love of their lives

There's a small hint to this headcanon for Sylus

I was thinking about making Sylus's insecurity something internal but he turned out to be the most insecure about how he looks

MC is slightly tsundere for Sylus here because I still can't let go of my tsun for him so she's just gonna be that way ajdkssgak

Zayne

Z: ...MC, do you think I'm handsome?

MC: Zayne, are you feeling okay? What's with the sudden question?

Z: I just want to know... Nevermind..

MC: Zayne, of course you're handsome. Don't you have an entire fanclub dedicated to you?

Z: I don't care about what they think. I care about what you think.

MC: Of course I think you're handsome, dummy. Even more now that you've opened up to me and showed me your smiles and your tears.

MC: If our nightly dose of intimacy hasn't convinced you that I think you're the hottest man alive, maybe we should increase the dosage. What do you think, doctor?

Z: For such an ill patient, I agree with your assessment. The patient is severely lacking in kisses and cuddles. It looks critical. He will need around the clock care tonight. Are you available to take the shift?

MC: Why wait for tonight? Like you said, the patient is critical. I can't keep him waiting.

Sylus

S: MC... Do you like how I look?

MC: What do you mean? You're not wearing those pineapple glasses again, are you?

S: No, I mean, my face. My hair. My eyes. My nose. My lips. And everything else.

MC: Your face? Didn't you say your face could get you in anywhere? And you keep showing off your abs like you're trying to challenge me to a fight, it makes me so mad.

S: Do you like how my face and my body look? Do they make you happy?

MC: Sylus, where is all this coming from? You may as well be a model. I'm surprised you don't have modelling agents hounding you every time you step foot in Linkon.

S: Answer my questions, MC.

MC: ......

S: ......

MC: Yeah, of course I like how you look.

S: That's it?

MC: What more is there to say? You're hot. You should know that.

S: Say it again.

MC: You're hot, Sylus. You're an extremely attractive man. Your face is conventionally attractive and your body is perfect. Can we stop now? It's embarrassing...

S: Mm... Your blush makes you even cuter, kitten. But you said that I'm "conventionally" attractive. What do you think about me? Am I attractive to you?

MC: Are you just trying to make me blush by making me say these things now?

S: Of course not. I just want to hear you say it. It would put me at ease.

MC: Alright, alright... You're attractive to me. Of course you are.

S: That's it?

MC: You're going to make me say these things all night, aren't you?

S: Oh, you caught on already? I'll make it worth your while. Every time you say something you like about me, I'll make you cry out a little louder. Deal?

[celaenaeiln]

What are some of your favorite Dick Grayson moments?

Please and Thank You 😃

My favorites will always be Dick being the canonical center of the DC universe 😌

Dark Crisis Issue #1

The greatest hope and the leader of the ages

Nightwing (2016) Issue #49

The Brave and Bold (2007) Issue #15

"And no one doubts that you're the best one to strategize a counterattack."

"Next to Superman, Dick Grayson is the one guy alive that every other crimefighter trusts."

JLA/Titans Issue #2

"--Founders of the original Teen Titans--"

Titans (2003) Issue #23

"It's a natural thing when Nightwing shows up. None of us are conscious of it, really--but we all look to him for orders."

Nightwing (2016) Issue #9

"You vouching for someone is worth its weight in gold. It was true in my world, and it's true in this one. In fact, of everyone I've met here, you're the least changed from the version I knew. Always confident, always kind, always cool. Dick Grayson--the multiuniversal constant."

JLA (1997) Issue #73

"It was sad at first. We were discussing the work--this work...and I asked him if he ever felt pride." "He didn't....then he stopped for a second and said...'The only time I ever feel pride is when I look at Nightwing. Sometimes I think he's the only thing I ever did right.'"

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #22

"We have a shorthand I don't share with any of the others, save for maybe Alfred. He's always been the one keeping me centered. Grounded."

"Dick's the beating heart of this family we've created, whether he realizes it or not."

Titans (2003) Issue #6

JLA (1997) Issue #71

Nemesis - The Impostors Issue #3

Batman!Dick - he's so freaking cool!!!

He's so amazing and cool and extraordinary and over competent. He's what everyone looks up to. He's collectively placed on a pedal so high by every hero and anti-hero in that everyone wants to be him or be acknowledged by him. People have died in his footsteps. Even the Titans, his own friends, hero-worship, look up to him as the peak of excellence and goodness.

Justice League of America (2006) Issue #50

Roy

World's Finest: Teen Titans Issue #5

Titans (2016) Annual 1

The paragon of rightness and justice of the world - Superman - thinks dick is the best thing to ever come into existence.

Whenever you read a comic, there's always some character that goes "Nightwing!" when something happens and another responds "Dude, he's Nightwing. He'll be fine. He always is." That's the amount of confidence heroes have in him to always succeed and excel.

Like Kon said - when he shows up, people automatically fall in line. It's like second-nature to just follow him.

Dick has that Charisma, the leadership, and the strength to hold the entire community together and as a result the world. He's proven it, he's done it. Whenever the Justice League evaporates in any situation - because this isn't the first time the JL have died/gone missing - everyone turns to Nightwing for order and direction.

Truly, he's the greatest.

[mikanotes]

COMEBACK/APOCALYPSE

eunhyuk x gn!reader — 577 words.

genre: angst/comfort, (probably) established relationship

warnings: mentions of death, grief, and swearing. nothing else i think!

synopsis: Eunhyuk returns. You don’t know how to deal with it.

author’s note: i miss him so have this. also me when you’re coming back and it’s the end of the world and we’re starting over and i love you darling and i am done

“You’re dead.” you say, “I’ve finally made peace with that. You should not be here.”

Steady as your voice may be, you’re unsure how much of your carefully crafted detached exterior manages to hold up in the face of Lee Eunhyuk’s apparent return to life. He looks as calm as usual. The way he stares at you feels somewhat unnerving— A gaze that refuses to let go, one that pierces right through you.

You feel the walls around you crumbling before you can do anything about it. You never stood a chance. “Eunhyuk.” you sigh, tone almost pleading. Please tell me you’re real. Please tell me you’re alive. Even if it makes no sense, say it, please. You hold his gaze as he takes a few short steps towards you.

“I’m sorry.” he says. Your throat feels tight and your eyes sting. “That you grieved for something that wasn’t gone.”

This is so much worse. But there isn’t a good way this situation could’ve gone.

This is one year and some months of sinking into a void of growing despair, with nothing to grab onto to stop it. It’s one year and some months that really feel like a decade of your very heart withering away. It’s one year and some months of surviving a monster apocalypse, and somehow having the sight of the person you craved to see the most be the thing that truly breaks you. The floor feels like it’s disappearing under your feet. You’re falling again, and it feels ten times worse and more instant. Like death. You’re dying and he’s saying sorry for not ever truly leaving.

“No, I,” you pause, forcing yourself to actually breathe, “I grieved over someone that was gone. You were gone. This was over a whole year without a single sign from you. An entire year of forcing myself to believe everyone’s words. ‘He’s dead’, ‘He’s gone and under the crumbled building’, ‘You’ll never see him again’, that was real.”

Eunhyuk doesn’t say a word.

“I didn’t want to believe it. I was so sure of it— That you weren’t really gone. You wouldn’t leave so easily. I didn’t believe it at all.” you shake your head, gaze moving aimlessly, “I eventually had to stop believing, and I’m sorry that I did. But you can’t just come back this way.”

“Should I leave?”

He’s dead serious, the fool. Polite and conscious of the boundaries he might’ve pushed by simply making himself known to you again.

“No. Are you kidding me?” you take a step forward, but it’s awfully hesitant. Like if you get too close you’ll see his skin is translucent and he was never really there and you’d been yelling at the wall. “You can’t leave. Not again.”

What are you supposed to do with all these feelings? It’s terrifying. He really is here.

“What can I do?” he asks, tone as steady as you’d hoped yours would come out. Every moment you practiced that false image of calm, your reference had subconsciously been Eunhyuk. Calm and level-headed, mature, the perfect leading figure. You’d never see Lee Eunhyuk slip up over his own emotions. That’s what you strived for.

But as it turns out, it’s not easy to be like this.

So out of touch. You need to make sure.

“Take my hand.” you say, ask, “Please.”

He looks down at your hand, then back up at you when he shortens the distance between the two of you. His hand is careful when it takes yours, slowly bringing it up between both of your chests. His skin is just as cold as it was, as cold as you remembered. Rough, contrasting how gentle his movements are. You stare at him and he stares at your hand.

“Now?”

“Now you promise not to die without me.”

That’s not something he can promise, you know it already. His expression tenses for a moment, like he’s in pain, but it’s gone just as fast. “I can’t promise you that.” he says, looking up at you, “You know that.”

“You’re the worst person I know.” you say, lying through your teeth. Eunhyuk carefully reaches his free hand towards your face, pressing his palm to your jaw.

“I am, aren’t I?” he says quietly, expression unchanging. “I’d usually call bullshit, but I admit I sort of believe you, all things considered.”

You scoff but it’s hard for it not to turn into a laugh. It’s light and not the definition of happy but it feels somewhat comforting. Your heart feels painfully tight. There’s something inordinately scary about allowing yourself to hope again.

“You know, once it actually clicks in my head that you’re really here, I’m going to cry like I never have before?”

“Don’t waste your energy on that.” he hums, “Still, I’ll be here through all of it, if it happens. I’ll be there. I won’t leave again. Not like last time.”

You lean down until your forehead hits his shoulder. He moves his hand to the back of your head, and the other just tightens around your own. There’s no need for more than that to say I love you, silently, in your own way.

“You will?”

“I can promise you that much.”

[ramonathinks]

who’s your god? — geto suguru (oneshot; no part two)

summary: suguru geto is the reincarnation of a powerful god or so he claims, using his abilities to prey on as many weak minded housewives as he can.

warnings: (18+, minors/ageless/blank blogs will be blocked) mention of church/religion, sex, adultery, cult like themes, sacrilege(?), begging, pet names (good girl, slut), corruption, finger sucking, public sex, people are watching, geto refers to himself as god, spanking, manipulation, race isn’t mentioned but i envision all my y/n’s as black so yeah. yes, repostttt

A-are you sure?” You swallow and gulp, staring at the man in front of you. His dark hooded eyes staring back at you.

“I have no reason to lie to you.” He says in a hushed tone as your husband walks up the stairs. With every painful creek of the staircase you can’t help but to wince. “Your purity… is in danger, has been for a long time… many of those in higher powers have spoke to me, they do want to help you to remain pure… to be in a good standing of course. That’s why I’m here.”

“Is there anything I can do?” With pleading eyes and shaky hands you scoot closer to him. You children deserved a pure mother, one to help them cross over when the time approached. You longed to be reunited with your husband when time was right.

“Why, of course.” He did a sly slimy smile. “We’ll sit some time aside and pray on this together at the temple.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much sir– eh, master geto.” You could see his lip curl at the name change and seen his nails dig into him palms. Pulling out a simple cross necklace from the insides of his black robe, he handed it to you, placing it into the center of your palm and closing your hand to form a fist.

“Keep this. Wear it. Don’t take it off until we next meet. It’s vital for the ritual we’ll have to preform.”

So you did. You wore it everywhere and didn’t take it off. Anything to keep your purity safe. You showed with it on, wore it underneath all your shirts and dresses.

“The gods spoke to me,” A phone call on the early morning after three weeks had passed. “It’s time.” It wasn’t even dawn yet, just a little past 3am and you were drowsy. “Wear something light. Very thin.”

You swallowed and looked over yourself, all of the sudden nervous and self conscious. Your body a bit more full and plum since the birth of two babies, everything thin you owned was tight against your body.

But you slipped into a long sleeved dark old dress you owned, that covered your entire body and hugged your figure.

You couldn’t help but feel so out of place and so weird when you walked into the sacred temple. Masked and cloaked individuals stood still, you could barely tell that they were breathing yet alone alive.

Swallowing, you made your way to the center of the temple, where you knew Geto would be waiting.

He stood with great posture and a small cross between his fingers, pressing his lips against it before rubbing his fingers against it, up and down. Your core tingled and you gripped the sides of your dress, feeling too hot to keep walking. Your knees buckled and your hands clutched at the wall by your side.

“Master Geto, he—lp!” You slipped and fell to the floor, landing with a small oof that left your mouth. A buzzing sensation on your clit and even feeling a rough hand on your folds. Massaging and pulling them apart.

“Just let it over take you. Just be glad, I didn’t do this while your husband was around. I’m being mighty merciful to you, my dear.” His voice is a shiver up your spine and his presence overtakes you, you feel him all over and he hasn’t even walked over to you yet.

“Tell me, my dear…” His voice cures your ails, making every moment more breathable again. “If I told you that the only way to keep your purity intact would be the touch of a god, would you still be willing?” His voice is sly and cocky.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, a light relief of touch making you moan heavily before it’s quickly snatched away. “That was just a taste, a small taste of purity that could welcomed back into your little soul.”

Something stirred up inside of your chest and a heavy weight made you groan, making you painfully uncomfortable and aware of just what you were missing.

“I need it.” You voice hoarse and detached, you weren’t sounding like yourself. “I’d do anything for it—!” You voice faded.

You felt several hands on you all at once but nobody was there. Solar bright hotness scarred your chest while the cross marked itself into your skin, the smell of burnt flesh all around you.

As if hours had passed, Geto finally approached you. Putting your head in his lap. He crouched and whispered in your ear, “I’m going to fuck the purity back into you.” Licking the insides of your ear before biting and sucking on the lobe. “You’ll be clean again.” He promised.

Slipping your dress up and removing your dainty underwear. “Already so soaked. You’re already ready for me.” His finger caressed your lips and he kissed you. His tongue licking throughout your mouth and sucking on every inch of your tongue.

Cloaked and masked individuals circled around you both and you clang into his grasp, shivering.

“They have to watch. They have to be here.” He explained calmly. “They’re praying over us, praying for you and your purity… shall I ask again, if you really want this? Remember the feeling that you felt…” That feeling was all you could think about, his touch and his voice amplifying everything.

He knew you wanted it. Hanging it over your head. Watching you pant and groan, your thighs sticky and your head spinning. “Please… you know I need it.”

“What would you husband think of you now…” he twists his fingers in your mouth, drawing them in and out. “Watching you beg like a little slut for me to fuck you… would he like it?”

You couldn’t bare to answer. “Please just fuck me already…” you pleaded with him, your eyes clouded with lust, his filled with sin and all he could do was drink it up.

The dizziness continued as the people watching stepped closer, you gulped and trembled, feeling like you can’t breathe.

“I’m going to give you exactly what you need to be pure again.” He pulls his robe off quickly and your eyes follow. His body sculpted to perfection, lean and a perfect built. Your eyes trailed down to his cock and you tried not to moan aloud.

Long and girthy with a dark pink tip, standing curved and full at your attention. You swallowed hard.

Leaning over you, he rubs himself between your cool wet gooey folds, lining his cock against your entrance. “Ready?” He murmurs and your eyes look between his then to his cock before you look to the lingering eyes around you.

“Yes. I’m ready.” Your voice strong and steady as your hands grab at his shoulders.

He slipped between your thighs and all of the heat and sweat around your body disappeared when a small moan left your lips. His cock completely splitting you open and his fingers digging into your thighs. Your legs spread wide as his hips thrust forward, hard.

Burying his nose into your neck he does a deep laugh. His hips wild with ever thrust, the splashy wetness from your pussy echoing around the temple. Moans bounce around with each time he plunges in and out of you.

Clenching around him, he groans, pulling himself out before quickly tapping his cock against your wet folds that open wide for him. He feeds your deprived insides his merciful cock with a sinister smile before he says:

“Tell me, who’s your fucking god now? Huh? Who do you belong to? Who is fucking you, hm? Who’s fucking this pussy pure?”

Gripping his shoulders harder and meeting his thrust you finally whisper, “You… you are, master Geto.”

His hips stutter when you tighten up on him, “Oh, so tight… so fucking tight.” He squeezed your thighs and ram inside of you, both of your moans loud. “Gonna fucking cum inside this pretty pussy.” He promises, jerking his hips and fucking deeper inside of your core.

Feeling every twitch from you, he uses two fingers to rub at your needy swollen clit. “Oh you like that? You like when I fuck this flower open?”

He plants kisses up and down your throat. “Please just…” you lock your legs around his waist, tightly. Wetness sliding down your thighs.

He shutters and sighs, rocking his hips and thrusting harder inside. His eyes intense as they glare down at you. “Such a good girl,” He says, his voice guff and his cock throbbing hard.

Your nails dig into his skin and your pussy squirts as he works his way in and out of you.“Take it.” He tip kissing your womb ever so gently before he’s pounding inside again, watching your thighs jiggle with every moment.

“Take my cum.” He growls, stilling over you. His body shakes and so goes yours, once his cum is planted inside of you, your body feels cool again.

Panting, you look into his dark eyes. “Am I pure?” Your eyes shining with hope and pleasure.

“Far from it.” He says and your face falls. “Turn around.”

Embarrassed and confused, you turn on your stomach.

You feel his rough hands touching on your ass and squeezing the plushness of it before he does the unexpected. A loud slap rings throughout the temple and you grown in pain. “Count.” He does another one to the opposite cheek.

“O-one…” Your soaked folds growing even wetness. “Two…”

Rubbing his cock between your ass he does another slap. “Three—!”

“I’m going to have my way with you for the rest of the day… until you physically can’t anymore.” He says with a deep chuckle. “Ready?”

[peachy-skies-writings]

Bachelors Being Jealous Headcanon

For @erinksss

Thanks for the request, sorry it took so long! it's been a super busy week. Hope you like it :)

💚🏈 Alex 🏈💚

Alex gets super jealous. Stereotypical jock jealous. He wouldn’t be horrible about it though. It’s just in his nature, you’re his partner and he just kinda wants to keep you to himself. 

He knows it’s not feasible but whenever you’re off doing tasks for the townsfolk, he wishes you were next to him. Especially if the townsfolk was male. Would be a grumpy old man about it.

If you were out and about with him, he’d place an arm around your waist or shoulder. Otherwise he’d go on a run to clear his head and then give you the biggest hug when you get back in. 

🧡📖 Elliott 📖🧡

Elliott wouldn’t get jealous too often. He’s not really the jealous type. Not in the relationship anyway.

What would make him a teeny bit jealous would be if you were swooning over a new writer that happened to be super hot. Like he’s all down for you reading and liking novels and then you turn up to a book signing with Elliott and he’s like OH NO THEY’RE HOT! Just a teensy bit jealous.

He’d probably not admit it to you because he’d be embarrassed he even felt that way but you’d definitely catch him pouting.

🤍🩺 Harvey 🩺🤍

This man does not get jealous at all in your relationship. 

The only time he’d feel a pang of jealousy would be when you went to Evelyn for old-timey herbal remedies and teas. It’d be a tiny little pang and then he’d move on. He just wants to bring you tea!!

Harvey would start bringing you teas or buying different ones so you didn’t have to go over. Once he found out that you were still going over, he realised it was for companionship for Evelyn and he felt a bit silly as he looked at the full cupboard of tea.

💙🎸Sam 🎸💙

I kinda headcanon Sam as a lil clingy boi tbh. He’d get jealous often but not in a toxic way at all. It’d not be jealousy in a way where he’s mad or anything. More like whiny lmao. Never gets actually the angry type of jealous. He’s pretty chill.

If you were taking too long by talking to someone, he’d start kinda tugging on your sleeve or grumbling that he was bored.

You’d definitely know if he was jealous, mainly because he’s vocalise it.

💜🎮Sebastian 🎮💜

Lil grumpy jealous baby. He has really low self-esteem in general and that leads him to be jealous quite a bit.

He’d probably get the most jealous during festivals when everybody is wanting your attention. He’s quite a loner so losing ‘his person’ would be a bit of a bummer for him. He’s not entirely sure if he’s envious that you have so many people who want to talk to you or if he’s jealous of the people who get to speak to you all day.

Sebastian would be quiet about it and try not to let it bother him, even if it’s eating him alive. You’d definitely notice and would, depending on how insecure you thought he was about it, talk to him or give him a super tight hug and remind him you’re his.

🖤🐓Shane 🐓🖤

Shane would get jealous quite frequently. He would try not to be toxic about it (sometimes is though) and he’d bottle it up, thinking it was his problem.

The most jealous he’d be is when you’re in the saloon and laughing a little too hard at one of the other bachelor’s jokes. He knew you were a bit tipsy but he still felt self-conscious about it.

Shane would bottle it up until it kinda explodes. He’d be a ball of emotions. He’d try not to take it out on you (but might be a bit snappy) and would eventually tell you (after coaxing, he’d be embarrassed for sure).

[f1nalboys]

Reunion - Frank (Adam Barrett)

Frank x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hiiiii guys >:)) i promise ill get to requests soon!!!!! i just was mentally being attacked by this freak and Needed to write something super quick for him!!!! lmk if anything is ooc for him, i did my darndest writing for him!!!! i hope u all enjoy and lmk if youre interested in me writing more for him!!!! ALSO!! i know his real name is adam but to make it easier for myself i just called him frank in the fic, lmk if u guys prefer that or using his actual name 😝 <3

WORD COUNT: 3190

WARNINGS: nsfw, vampire!frank, human!reader, oral (afab + amab recieving,) choking (to the point of nearly passing out), biting, slight blood play, slightest bit of scent play??, degradation and praise, handcuffs, restraints, face fucking, multiple orgasms (afab,) creampie, this was meant to be short and then i was attacked...., pain play, mating press, implication of more sex, brief mentions/threats of being fucked until you pass out but you are fully concious the entire time, proofread but u guys know me by now

Frank tilts his head, tongue gliding across razor sharp teeth, a sinister grin gracing his normally soft features. You watch him from your spot on the bed, handcuffs tight around both your wrists and the bedframe. Tugging at the restraints, you wince as the cool metal digs into your warm flesh, squirming when you feel Frank's gaze finally land on you. 

“Keep struggling and you’re gonna make yourself bleed.” Frank grins, the bed shifting with his weight as he sits down beside you. He’s still fully clothed, a far cry from your bare skin still covered in healed-over bite marks and a layer of sweat. He leans in, hand trailing up your stomach lightly, too lightly to feel good, his nose brushing against your wrist. Frank breathes in deeply and you watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck. Y’know what? Keep doing it. I want you to bleed.”

You whine, shaking your head. “Frank, c’mon, please!” 

“C’mon, please,” Frank mimics, fake pouting. You stay silent. When he was like this, all sharp teeth and sharp tongue, it was better to take whatever he was going to give you. A fight wouldn’t stop that. His hand trails up your chest, fingers calloused and rough, before landing on the base of your throat. His grip is loose, for now. “You always been this damn whiney or did this vampire shit give me better hearing?”

You swallow heavily. “I’m sorry.” You squeak and he grins, shaking his head. His hand grips your throat a bit tighter, feeling your pulse pumping heavily under his fingers. You watch his face as his eyes close. His breathing, which you learned he had to pretend to do after getting turned, matches your own. He stays like this a while, feeling your heart beat and the air fill and leave your lungs, feeling the humanity and life pump through your body on instinct. 

Frank didn’t miss many things about being human. He was stronger, faster, more agile, smarter, more ruthless, and so fucking powerful it could make your head spin. The things he didn't have anymore he could, for the most part, recreate it well enough. Breathing was now a conscious decision, one he only did when around other people. The sunlight thing didn’t bother him, only resulted in him moving to a city where the nightlife was more important than the daytime. The bloodlust was easy to satiate with his job. 

The one thing that he couldn't ignore or replicate, however, was a heartbeat. 

His chest felt empty, a dead thing lying there doing nothing but rotting away, maggots and fungi eating away at the carcass that was his humanity. On occasion, he’d find himself laying down, eyes closed, hand over his heart, imagining the thump of it, vibrating his chest, telling him and anyone who touched him that he was something, that he was alive. Your heartbeat was the closest thing to his own he could get to anymore. Frank loved to hear it quicken, skip a beat, change in its normal soothing rhythm, all due to him. Him and his hands, his tongue, his teeth, his words. 

Him.

Frank’s eyes open again, blue eyes dark, and he sighs, letting go of your throat. “Spread your legs.” His voice leaves no room for argument and you listen, your face growing hot from embarrassment at the wolf whistle he lets out. “So fuckin’ sexy, you know that? S’why I keep comin’ back.” He murmurs, leaning over and kissing you roughly. 

It’s too much, but everything Frank did was too much; he sprayed cologne until you felt like you were suffocating, he kissed you until your lips were bruised, he went down on you until you couldn't remember your name, he killed until he was covered in blood, he betrayed anyone and everyone who was dumb enough to trust him. Everyone but you. The only person he had stayed (mostly) gentle with, loyal too, was you.

Sure, he wouldn’t ever call himself your boyfriend, but he’d kill any guy you talked to and leave their decapitated head on your doorstep, fucking you into your mattress till you couldn't walk, and tell you that you were his. For now, that was enough.

Frank kisses down your neck, sharp teeth nicking at the thin flesh, a low moan being pulled from your lips. He loved the noises you made, could get drunk off them, could pull them from you for hours, and he has. “I need you,” you whimper as his mouth latches onto your nipple, his warm tongue flicking over the hardening nub. He hums around it but doesn’t stop. You can feel him relax over top of you, his free hand squeezing at your other tit, the days stress melting away. “Please?” 

“I’m takin’ my time.” Frank says, narrowed eyes flicking up to meet your own, but he lets go of your nipple, sliding down the length of the bed. “Bet you’re fuckin’ soaked though, aren’t you? That’s why you’re begging me.” You can’t deny it even if you wanted to because his hand is cupping your cunt, thick finger prodding at your slick opening to see, and you’re moaning so loud you know your throat is going to be sore tomorrow. “Fuck, you are. Guess it has been a bit, hasn’t it? Missed me or something, sweetheart?”

“Missed your cock.”

“Just my cock?” He asks, rubbing your wetness on your clit, a shiver going down your spine. “Not my fingers? The ones on your sloppy fuckin’ pussy right now, you didn’t miss them?” He asks, a smug fucking grin on his face, his fingers moving expertly against you. “Not my mouth? Bet your pussy misses my mouth. Shit, last time we fucked you didn’t seem very happy when I stopped tongue fucking you, so what changed, huh?”

His voice is sharp, working himself up the more he talks, his eyes focused on yours. He loves the microexpressions you make when you’re trying to hold back; the furrow of your eyebrows, the twitch of your lips, the flare of your nostrils. It's so incredibly human, so incredibly sexy, he wants nothing more than to bite into your neck and drain you, keep you inside him forever. But, he can’t. He’d miss you. Instead, he slips two fingers inside your hole, the stretch making you gasp, eyes widening, heartbeat picking up. “O-okay, okay…missed you.” 

“Yeah, you fuckin’ did.” He says, sliding down the rest of the bed, strong hands on your thighs, tongue swiping across your clit. Your legs try to close, your back arching off the soft mattress, the clang of the handcuffs bringing a smile to his face. Frank moans against your cunt, his fingers massaging your thighs as he enjoys himself. 

You want to touch him, to run your fingers through his hair and tug, bringing him closer, but these damn handcuffs keep digging into your wrists and it hurts and his fingers won’t stop pumping and scissoring inside your cunt and his lips are wrapping around your clit and he’s sucking and suddenly you can’t think of anything as you cum. Your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head and all Frank can do is laugh against you as he draws it out. 

“S-stop, hang on,” you stutter after what felt like hours, your body going limp. Frank listens for once, moving his face off of your cunt but he leaves his fingers inside you, curling them just to pull a whine from your throat. You watch as he runs his tongue over his teeth and lips, tasting you, cracking his neck to stop himself from bending you in half and shoving his cock inside you. It’s been a while, almost two weeks, and he wants to savor this. Or, he wants to try. Self control has never been his strong suit. “Can you take the handcuffs off?” 

“They hurt?”

“A little.”

“Not yet.” Frank crawls over top of you, pressing his lips to yours. He’s gentle now, but you know he’s holding back. Despite how rough he gets with you, he’s always holding back from the primal urge to rip you to shreds. When he pulls away, he moves forwards even more, his knees just under your armpits. You stare up at him and he knows you’re nervous. His smile is gone, his eyes dark as he works on undoing his belt. “I’ll take ‘em off you real soon baby. I just need you to earn it first.” 

You swallow heavily, your heartbeat spiking as you watch him take his belt off. He tosses it to the side, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down to his thighs. His pants rub against your bare chest, scratching you, but you can’t be bothered to care, not with the way your mouth was filling with saliva at the sight of his bulge. Frank laughs as you try to sit back onto your elbows, an annoyed whine stuck in your throat, and he pulls his underwear down, sighing as his cock springs free.

His cock is hard and he strokes it slowly, just out of reach. “Fuckin’ look at you… you ain’t embarrassed acting like this?” He asks, clenching his jaw to keep from moaning at the sight of you. You didn’t know it, or, at least, he hoped you didn’t, but he was addicted to every fucking thing you did. Your voice, your facial expressions, your movements, your back talk, your anger, your sadness; he was obsessed with it all. It was all for him, even when you were alone. 

Smiling slightly, you shake your head no. “Were you embarrassed eating me out?” You counter and he smirks, rolling his eyes slightly before leaning his hips forward, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. Your mouth opens, your eyes laser focused on his dick. Frank teases you, rubbing his cock across your wet tongue.

“Mmm, fuck, I wasn’t,” he answers, tilting his head as he watches you strain your head forwards in an attempt to take him into your mouth. “But I wasn’t doing that.” You roll your eyes and look up at him, doing your best to look doe-eyed. His eyes narrow; he knew what you were doing, and he knew it would work. “So slutty, aren’t you, sweetheart? All for my cock.” As he talks, his voice low, he uses his hand to press his cock against your cheek, thrusting shallowly. His precum smears across your cheeks and you moan softly, your tongue rolling out of your mouth to slide against his shaft as he does so.

Finally, Frank pushes his cock down your throat. He does so slowly, hissing as he savors the heat of your mouth as your lips wrap around him. Your eyes close and you hum, enjoying the weight of his cock on your tongue. His cock was perfect for you; long, thick, and curved upwards, it always filled you to the brim, hitting that spot inside you to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull. 

“There you go, Y/N,” he grunts, his hips flexing. The rhythm he sets is slow and deep, making you gag each time and giving you enough time to recover before he repeats it. “Fuck, your mouth is so good, you know that? Just wanna, fuck,” his hand comes to rest on the headboard behind you, leaning over your head, plunging his cock deeper into your mouth. You hear the metal headboard creak and you know the grip he has on it is nearly enough to break it. “Just wanna fucking shove it down your throat till you pass out.” 

You gurgle around his cock, heart jumping at the thought, and he grins. “You want that, slut? Huh? Missed me so fuckin’ bad you want me to fuck your tight little throat? Make you take it even after you’re fuckin’ knocked out, using you like my own little fuck toy, my little puppet to do whatever I want with?” His thrusts get harder, deeper, and now you really are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t want him to stop. Not yet. You have no way to stop him even if you did, and the realization is almost enough to send you into a panic. But you know Frank. He knew your body better than you did, knew what you could handle and what you couldn’t, knew what would make you cry in pain or pleasure; you were safe with him, even if he was bruising your throat. 

The edge of your vision begins to blur, the lack of oxygen making your head spin, and right when you swear you’re about to pass out, your tugging at the handcuffs finally stopping, he pulls out. You suck in a harsh breath, sputtering and coughing, not registering as Frank gets off the bed and kicks his pants the rest of the way off. It’s only when you feel his hands pressing your knees to your chest that you realize what he’s about to do. “Wait!”

“What?” He grumbles, swiping his cock through your folds, focused on the way you coat the tip. “Don’t tell me you don’t wanna fuck… that’ll be cruel...” You respond by tugging at the handcuffs again, clanging them against the bed frame, and he nods, tsking, a grin on his face. “Ah, right, right. Forgot about that. My bad, baby.” 

He grabs the key from his pants pocket, wetting his bottom lip as he unlocks them, tossing the handcuffs and keys to the side. Your wrists are raw, a few droplets of blood bubbling up along the skin. “You made me bleed.” You say softly, no venom in your voice. He grabs your hand gently, bringing it to his mouth before he licks the cut. It tickles.

“Fuck, your blood…” Frank says, giving you a look you can’t quite place before he’s back at the task at hand. Your knees are pushed to your chest, your hands positioned to hold them back as far as you could, and before you know it his cock is bullying its way into your hole. “So fucking tight.” He grunts as he sets a brutal pace, each noise of pain you make only fueling him onward. 

He doesn’t ever want to hurt you, but it’s hard not to when you sound and feel and taste so fucking good when he does.

“My cock too much?” He leans over your body as he fucks you, using his weight to keep your legs trapped above his shoulders. Frank's face hovers above yours, his eyes locked onto every twist of your face. “Too fuckin’ big, too fuckin’ thick, it hurts, Frank.” He mocks, emphasizing each word with a sharp thrust. Your arms, now free from the restraints, wrap around his shoulders tightly. “Too fuckin; much but you don’t want me to stop, fuck, ain’t that right?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck, don’t stop, please!” You cry out, the pain of being stretched out finally beginning to melt away into toe curling pleasure. The fire in your stomach is burning white hot, his stomach bumping against your clit with each thrust, his grunts replacing your own thoughts. Every word he said, every name he called you, it all blended together perfectly.

He begins to kiss at your neck, sucking marks onto your flesh only to soothe them with his tongue. “Missed you too, y’know?” He whispers against you. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy, the way you get so god damn tight. Couldn’t, shit, couldn’t even play with my cock ‘cause it didn’t feel as good as when you do it.” He laughs at this, shaking his head at himself for admitting it. He missed the other stuff too, like your smile and your laugh and the way you smelled when you were curled up in his bed asleep. He’d never tell you that, though. 

Franks thrusts grow sloppy, his patience finally snapping. “You better fuckin’ cum on my dick, Y/N.” He grunts, lifting his head for a brief moment to look you in the eyes. When he sees them squeezed shut he growls, one hand wrapping tight around your throat. “Fuckin’ look at me.” Your eyes pop open, your gasp of shock stuck in your throat. “Your greedy little cunts gonna milk me dry, you understand, bitch?” 

“F-fuck,” you gurgle, your hand grabbing onto his as he tightens his grip again. You do your best to nod, feeling spit collect at the corner of your mouth, your heart beating so quick you think it’s going to burst. You can’t breath but he’s fucking you so well you don’t give a shit; you just hope if you pass out he’ll hold off on cumming inside you until you were awake again so you can feel it. 

“There you go, baby, fuck, cum for me.” Frank grunts, feeling your orgasm just before you do. His hand lets go of your throat as you cum, shoving your head to the side to sink his teeth into your flesh. Somehow, someway, he’s able to hold off for a few moments longer, savoring the feeling of your cunt spasming around him before he cums, the sweet taste of your blood pooling into his mouth tipping him over the edge. He doesn’t let go, groaning into your shoulder as he spills inside you.

Your gasps come out shaky as he feeds. He swallows a few times before finally letting go, your blood covering his mouth. He kisses you roughly, his hips flexing, making sure your cunt gets every drop. “Gross,” you tease when he pulls away, your tongue swiping over the blood he had left behind on your tongue. Your face screws up at the metallic taste but Franks changes to be softer. He runs a finger down the side of your cheek, taking the sight of you in. “What?” You murmur, feeling your face grow hot. 

“I did miss you. For real.” He admits, corner of his lip twitching upwards at both the look of shock that crosses your face and the way your heart skips. He never admitted that to you before; it was always about how much he missed your cunt or your mouth or your hands, how he missed fucking you and making you his, and you always accepted that this was the way it would be. Sure, you dreamed about this moment time and time again, but you never actually thought it would happen. “Being away, you know, made me think some things through.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well…” He tilts his head slightly, surveying your face. “I’m thinking maybe it’s time you joined me.” His hips flex again, pushing his cum deeper inside you, and you gasp, back arching off the bed slightly. Frank moves your legs down off his shoulders and you wrap them around his waist. “Hm? How’s that sound, sweetheart?” Frank purrs, kissing you gently, his cock plunging in and out of you slowly. He pulls back, lips hovering just above yours, a smirk on his face. “You want me to turn you?

[starshipsofstarlord]

Prisoner

Summary-> (Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Warnings-> 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, established relationship, mentions of arrest and imprisonment, swearing

daryl dixon // norman reedus works masterlist

It was an adjustment, that much was clear. After having been locked up in a prison for a few years, the last place you had wanted to be was in one, but here you and your group were, in a cell block after having cleared it out.

Your knee bounced as you sat upon the steps, gnawing upon lip, staring at the familiar grey walls that brought bad memories back into your mind. It wasn’t something you wanted to voice as a problem, you’d spent all winter out on the road, enduring the cold nights, you should have been grateful like everyone else was.

“Y’ okay?” Daryl asked as he took a seat beside you, brushing his shoulders with your own with a comforting manner, reading with no doubt that something was bothering you. Most of the day you preferred to be outside, killing the walkers that clawed at the fences, and you jumped at the chance to go out on a run for supplies just to get out of this pit of misery.

“I’m fine. Just need a distraction from all of this.” You gestured around you, sending him a small smile, feeling far too conscious to even think about falling asleep. “I know it should be good that we’ve found somewhere, and it is, don’t get me wrong, but-“

“I know.” He told you, nodding in understanding, before he put his large hand over your smaller one, clasping it in his grip and bringing it up to his lips. “Don’t have to like it, none of us do, but we woulda died if we hadn’t found this place. And that’s the last thing that I wan’ to happen to ya. I’m grateful for everything you did, ya know.”

“I know Dare.” You decided to look at him rather than the tin you were sat in, meeting his softened blue eyes. “Think if I saw Merle again I’d kick his ass for abandoning me on that night which cost me months in the normal world with you.” He grunted in agreement, smiling when remembering that you had found their camp, and you’d done just that to his older brother.

“Ya got out, that’s all that matters. Especially before all this and the world goin to shit.” The thought of you trapped in somewhere like this and most likely being turned into walker chow or one of them had his heart bursting at the seams. It was a vulgar thought, and the last thing that he ever wanted to happen to you. He wanted to protect you, and he should have done that before, but he was petrified, and you were too stubborn and claimed that you had to pay for your mistakes.

He’d come to see you a few times when you were locked away, he hated that a panel of glass separated the both of you, all he had wanted to do was run his fingers through your hair and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t, so instead he counted the days and hours until your release, he had this whole idea of collecting you from that place and driving you far away.

But your release day had been the same day that the entire planet was engulfed with the spreading news of a disease that turned people into monsters, and Merle wouldn’t let him go to see if you had made your sanctioned escape. He had no idea whether you were still alive until he saw Shane carrying you into the camp, exhausted from the lack of both food and fluids and running god knows how many miles just to survive.

“Guess you’re right.” He always was, even if he was too selfless to admit it. “Do you maybe want to try sleeping in a cell? I know we’ve got this whole thing of liking the floor, but I guess it’s worth a try.” Daryl surprising agreed, pulling you to your feet after he had stood, the two of you walking to an empty cell, passing by the other members of your group that were either asleep or lying down in isolation.

It was a big step for you to enter a cell after the months you had been holed up in one by the law, but Daryl kept his hand on your elbow, reminding you that he was there. And always would be. And so unsurely, despite it being your idea, you stepped within the cell, it was devoid of any personality, just a bunk and the normal silver basin and toilet, which all reminded you that this wasn’t home. You hoped that one day you’d find somewhere that felt less suffocating, there had to be a place out there, beyond the chain fence, where it was safe to breathe without the risk of walkers eating you in your sleep.

As you entered the room, you were strangely comforted by the sound of Glenn’s snoring from the cell over, he was no doubt laying beside Maggie, then both lulling in the chance to rest. “It’s not so bad.” You muttered, kicking off your mud accented boots, as Daryl remained close to the door, blocking the view from anyone that could pass as you shrugged out of your jeans, and lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. It was something that you hadn’t been able to do in prison without the harassment of officers or other people fulfilling their sentences.

Daryl said nothing as you stood still for a moment, closing your eyes, before you reached back, unclipping your bra, his eyes danced over the expanse of your back, every scar traced by his pupils and every mole a target that he planned to pelt with gentle kisses. You turned around to face him, like a vixen testing his limits, tilting your head as you padded along the floor towards him, your fingers brushing against his sleeve butchered flannel. “I want your shirt.”

There was no resistance on his part as he helped you unbutton each button on it, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders as he handed it to you, watching you slip it on. You inhaled his scent as you did only a couple of the buttons on it, before testing the mattress with your hand on the bottom bunk, before sliding upon it and closing your eyes. “Aren’t you going to join me?” He said nothing as he silently kicked off his own boots, tossing the knives he carried out from his pockets onto the floor, them deliciously clattering upon the cement, as he readied himself to lay beside you.

“It’s been a long time since we had a bed.” Daryl spoke in hushed volume, not counting the time on Herschel’s farm after he had been scathed by a bullet in the left side of his head, no thanks to Andrea. He shuffled as he tried to get comfortable, deciding on laying on his side and facing you, trapping you in his arms as his nose brushed against your own. “At least it’s better than that one you had in your shitty old trailer.” He smirked, watching as you tapped his shoulder with your screwed up fist, rolling your eyes when you remembered why it hadn’t been so comfortable.

“It was perfect, we broke it in. Not my fault that the springs couldn’t hold up.” He shook his head at your words, clearly that sale you had got it from had been a scam, but you had insisted that it was better than sleeping on the floor. Truth be told, Daryl didn’t care where he slept, as long as he had you securely beside him, he never wanted you to be taken away from him again, and he was insistent that he wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“I think you’re the one tha’ couldn’t hold up. Or be quiet.” He remarked, causing a scoff to pass from your lips, as you attempted to turn away from him but he wouldn’t allow you. Instead his grip on you got tighter, as he raised a brow at your actions. “But if yar blamin’ it on the damn mattress, we migh’ as well see if this one is any better.” It wasn’t very often that Daryl would smirk, but when he did, you practically melted in a puddle in front of him and forgot where you were, which in this instance, was a blessing. His hand trailed down your sternum that was exposed by your lousy buttoning of his shirt that you wore, descending dangerously lower, so that his fingertip hit the top band of your panties.

Your breath hitched, as your body became almost immobile, frozen from his more that welcomed touch. He teased you, running his hand hand back to your stomach only to trail it back down to where his destination had been. “Damn it Daryl, do something.” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. “I swear to- oh.” His hand had slipped into your underwear, rubbing against the outside of your cunt, causing your hips to jut up into his touch. He always knew how to make you sufficiently aggravated, you’d have cursed out from the bubbling annoyance in your chest if you had no worries that anybody could hear the two of you.

With that he slipped a finger into your walls, it felt like it had been a long time since the two of you had an opportunity to be physical. All through winter, after losing the farm to the mass of endless walkers, you’d had sex once out in the woods, when you were supposed to be hunting, and because of your lack of action you felt touch starved. Even despite Daryl proceeding to hold your hand when the pair of you rarely walked at the back of the group, and sleeping side by side with him. It just hadn’t been enough, but for now these taunting walls allowed you some release, ironically enough.

“Yer so fuckin’ tight.” Daryl muttered, kissing up your stomach all the way up to your lips, ushering and drinking your whimpers that threatened to escape. “Woulda fucked ya more if I’d had the chance baby, now I’m really gonna have to stretch ya out before I can put my cock in ya.” You could only moan into his mouth, hands clasping around his wrist as you ground yourself down on his hand, you let out a squeal as he unexpectedly entered another finger, alarmed by the welcomed intrusion, however Daryl stopped all movements. He spoke quietly to himself, eyes dancing around with a scheming glimmer in his eyes, as an idea revelled in his mind.

He yanked a pillow out from beneath your head, causing you to pant as you clenched desperately around his fingers, trying to allure him into continuing. Daryl raised your hips, fingers still in you, as he placed the pillow beneath them, your mouth making an O shape as he hit a new angle inside of you. If you hadn’t been in a prison, knowing that it was your worst nightmare, he would have calmed your sounds by placing the pillow over your head, but he knew where the line was drawn and he was never one to cross it if he was aware of your discomfort. “Good girl.” He drawled out, deciding to fasten the pace of his fingers as a wet spot began to leak onto your panties, he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched you. You were close, and it had come faster than expected, given how many months it had been.

“More.” You pleaded, wanting his cock, no matter how much it hurt when he stretched you out, but instead you were given another finger, and Daryl grunted as he rutted into the bed. “Dare, need you.” You huffed, feeling empty when he removed his fingers. The time dragged as he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans, and finally he clambered on top of you, his naked form teasing every nerve in your entire body. “If you need me so bad, why don’ ya ride me?” He whispered, rolling the both of you over so that you were atop of him. You leant down, your hair falling in a cascade around both of your faces as you pressed your lips against his, sliding your cunt over his cock.

He was frighteningly hard, it had been months since the both of you had gotten this far, and there were no interceptions that could stop you this time, or so you hoped. Your slick coated his length as you ground yourself on him to fulfil your own insatiable drive of hunger, his hands bruising your hips as he attempted to keep you still so he could slip inside of you from beneath your trembling form. His tip grazed your clit, sending you into a frenzy, you couldn’t wait a second longer you mindlessly decided, grasping his erect cock in your hand to hold it still, as you slid him inside of you. It was an ethereal feeling, the two of you relished in the sensation of being so close, and not just emotionally.

Daryl’s head reached up, pulling you down flush on top of him, as he spread an array of butterfly kisses over your collarbones and the middle of your throat. “I love ya girl, you drive me absolutely crazy, but yar my kinda crazy.” He stroked your hair lovingly out of your face, distracting you from how he raised both of the weights of the lower halves of your bodies up, and before you could respond with your own spoken words of love to him, he began to thrust up into you, making the world around you drown into nothing more than a distant memory. Your breathing was messy as it mixed with your partner’s, you sturdied one hand on the pillow beneath his head, the other long discarded to the floor, as your opposite braced itself on the wall, clawing at the impenetrable surface.

“Fuck Dare.” Tears were glazing your eyes as you felt each vein of his cock within your cunt, and you began to move with his own thrusts, finding a rhythm that suited the position that you were in. You were careful not to raise your head too high so that you didn’t hit it on the bottom of the bunk above you, Daryl’s right hand left your hip and rested forcefully on your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried and failed to hold in his grunts. Surely by morning, there was no doubt that someone would make a commotion about hearing you through the screen-less doors, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not after how long it had been since you had evoked such passion with the man below you.

Sweat began to bead upon his forehead, slicking the growing locks onto his face, as you brushed them away. A heavy creak rattled from the bed as Daryl once again turned you over, and pounded in you from above, without allowing his cock to slip out from your sweet and wet pussy. From the red tint that had appeared on his face, and how he frowned as though he was on a mission, it was clear that he was getting close, which wasn’t a surprise considering the amount of time that had passed since your bodies had moulded together in such a way. You grasped him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to entrap him in a fiery kiss, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you approached your own high.

And there it was, the destination that you had been caving for, your own release. After all of those months that you had served as a resident in a prison, you’d missed his touch, and as soon as the two of you had reunited in Atlanta, you’d made the most of the time you could get together. Daryl’s thrusts began to get sloppy as he struggled to keep up his pace after feeling you clench around his cock and cum all over it, sending him into a delirium to chase his own high. He could feel his balls straining to be emptied, and when he was almost there, he pulled out, not wanting to further the risk anymore of getting you pregnant given the state of the world, and began thrusting himself in the apex of your thighs, until finally he allowed his seed to spill over your flesh.

He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning down to press a kiss against your sweaty hairline, before reaching down and grabbing your discarded shirt, wiping your upper legs clean. He wasted no more time to curl up next to you and bring you into his large arms, staring at your face, letting you know without words that you were the most important thing to him. He’d do anything for you and to keep you safe, nobody was going to separate the two of you again, he was stern on that. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” You muttered lovingly into his chest, brushing your nose against where his heart lay, and Daryl releases a small but real smile as he tugged the blanket out from tour forms, awkward as his manner was, and wrapped it around the two of you, so that you could drift off to sleep in his arms and pretend for a moment in your dreams that the world wasn’t as it was.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Dreams

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, angst

A/N: just a little angsty type short blurb I had in my head.

--‐------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Since when did Simon Riley get so romantic?” You jeered, booping him on the nose playfully. “I won’t complain, though, this is nice.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Simon whispered to you, as he stroked your hair lightly. “You are my everything, Y/n.”

The two of you were lying in bed together, wrapped up in each other's arms. Neither of you had moved for hours.

“I’ve always been this romantic, don’t know what you’re on about.” 

You chuckled as you shoved your face into Simon's chest, inhaling his scent. “ I love you.”

“I love you too, kid. Always.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed deeply into the kiss, and moved so you were sitting on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away, you smirked down at him with a devious look in your eyes.

“What are you up to?” He asked, matching your smirk.

*RING*

“Nothin.”

"Nah, I know that look."

"Don't know what you're talking about, just showing my man how much I appreciate him is all." You bit back a giggle, an elated smile forming on your face.

Simon was jolted awake by his phone going off. He sat up in his bed and sighed. That’s right, that was all just a dream. You’ve been dead for over a year. He grabbed his phone off the bedside table and saw Price’s caller ID flashing on the screen.

“Simon, meet me in my office. We’ve got to discuss something. Urgently.” 

“Hello?” Simon grumbled, answering the call.

Price hung up the call immediately after. 

Simon tossed the phone to the side and threw his head into his hands. He'd been having more and more dreams about you lately. It seems his mind wouldn't give him a break from you. Even when he wasn't conscious, you'd still find your way into his head.

He looked at his nightstand and saw the watch you'd given to him as a birthday present, just a few weeks before you died. It was the only thing from you he had left. He never went anywhere without the watch. Grabbing it and slipping it on, he went to get ready to meet Price.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the way to Price’s office, Simon let his thoughts drift to you once more. He missed you terribly. You were his everything before you died. Though the two of you weren’t in a relationship, it was clear the two of you had feelings for one another. You were his shadow, and he was yours. He’d have done anything to save you.

He took exhaled deeply and composed himself before entering Price’s office. He slowed as he was met with a rather solemn look on his captain's face. 

“Simon. We’ve got news. Why don’t you have a seat.” Price nodded at Simon and pointed to the chair across from him.

“‘M fine standing, what’s this about?”

“We need to talk about Verdansk.”

Simon's blood chilled at the mention of the mission. The mission in which he’d lost you. Ever since that day, he refused to ever go into detail about the mission. It hurt too much for him to replay it. He watched as you’d gotten shot right in front of him, taking the bullet that was meant for him. Your eyes had found his before your body hit the ground. Everything happened so fast, and he wasn't able to get to you in time. He had to watch on helplessly as the enemy dragged your dead body away from him.

“No, no. I’m not talking about that. We’ve agreed to never speak about that again.”

“Lieutenant, listen to -.”

“NO! I am not going to stand here and rehash this shit again. I can’t and won’t do it. You promised.”

“Simon, we found her. She’s alive.”

Simon’s entire world came screeching to a halt as he took in Price's words. “What did you say?”

“I said we found her, Simon. Y/N is alive.”

----------------------------------------------------

A/N: Not sure if I want to turn this into a mini series??

[nekropsii]

People in the Cronus v. Vriska debate will also completely ignore that Cronus. Really wants to kill people. He just says that. No obfuscation included.

He doesn’t even have any excuse for it. Vriska killing people makes sense because she grew up on Alternia and had to feed her Lusus. Cronus just wants to kill people because he wants to do murder-eugenics and is really fucking mad murder-eugenics isn’t legal and does in fact have social consequences. Cronus just wants to kill disabled people for being disabled and not get in trouble for it. He explicitly says he wishes culling “meant what it should have” on Beforus.

Vriska was born and raised on Alternia, and that’s not her fault. It is, in fact, an entirely new level of fucking deranged to want Alternian laws to be real. Growing up in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay is different from wishing you lived in a system where killing people deemed below you is okay, because growing up there inherently means that that is already normal to you, while wishing that was the case inherently means it is not normal to you, you just want more harm to befall specific out groups (the lower class, the disabled, etc.) and to hurt more people in more violent ways.

People also love to casually ignore that Cronus is a grown adult. Like, sure, he’s 19, and 19 years old is pretty young in the grand scheme of things, but he is still a grown ass man who knows better. Him knowing better and simply not caring is literally a major part of his character. He is a grown ass man who can make his own legal decisions and live on his own. He can pay taxes. He could buy a house. He could invest in the stock market. In some countries, he can legally drink. He can drive. He can drink and drive. He can go die in the military. He’s grown. He’s a grown ass man. Vriska is 13. That is a child. Like, a CHILD child. Vriska is a middle school child. This is the difference between a middle schooler and a college student. Think of how mentally developed you were at 13. You weren’t even done with puberty yet. You’re not even done growing at that age. Cronus can fucking vote. He can go to adult prison. If you spotted a kid Vriska’s age out roaming the street with no guardian in sight, you’d probably be worried.

A major part of Cronus’s character is that he is a terrible person by choice, willingly, knowingly, and does not care. He is making a decision. Him being shitty and awful is a conscious choice he is making. He knows he is hurting people, and he knows what he is doing is terrible, and he does not care. Cronus knows that trying to bang children 6 years his junior is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows he is abusing Mituna, he calls it abuse, and he knows abuse is bad. He doesn’t care. He knows sex crimes are bad. He doesn’t care. He’s too entitled to care about anyone but himself and his own gratification.

Vriska is a 13 year old anti-hero who literally gets groomed and is shown to only be Like That because she is extremely traumatized and her experience of living on Alternia has made it so her guard is up 24/7. She literally cannot put the metaphorical swords down. She thinks it’s the only thing keeping her alive.

Cronus does not have an excuse.

That is, like… The Point.

The point is that he sucks and is irredeemable. He doesn’t have a single quality that makes standing around him worthwhile. He’s a relentless, unapologetic abuser. He just doesn’t care. He’s the most entitled man to ever live. He sees people as punching bags and sex toys, and any time this notion is rejected or faces even the slightest pushback, he freaks the fuck out about it.

And the point with Vriska is that she is complicated, and a child. A really, really traumatized, really, really scared child.

I don’t know, I think there’s a party here that is objectively worse.

… And - hear me out! - I think… I think it’s the adult sex predator… And not the child.

[syrupfog]

Need to read some fic where Law is the one who falls HARD and instantly, while Luffy takes a while. 

Law full on pining from day 1 while Luffy’s like “haha you’re so weird but your bear’s cool”

Law convincing himself that just being close to Luffy during their alliance is enough, treasuring every moment bc he knows Luffy doesn’t feel the same. All the straw hats pitying him and/or outright hostile towards him bc he’s transparent as fuck

Luffy being like “I’m busy becoming the pirate king traffy’s cool I like him but he’s not my crew” and law accepting that and thinking it’s for the best, he doesn’t have a good track record keeping loved ones alive anyway.

Law devoting himself mind body and soul to luffy after Dressrosa, knowing even then that Luffy’s going to be pirate king and law will do anything to make that happen because he wants luffy to have the freedom law’s never felt

And luffy, despite what everyone seems to think, he’s not dumb. He knows how law feels. He doesn’t GET it, just like he doesn’t get why Boa Hancock feels that way, or why he has a fan club, but he does know how law feels about him.

And maybe it’s not until after egghead that something changes. Maybe it’s when Luffy realises that Teach HAS Law, and he gets more upset than people expect. When he goes after Black beard with a fury even he doesn’t understand

And I dunno, maybe Luffy’s never felt love this way before, can recognise it in others but not in himself because it’s all new, but when he gets law back, beaten and tortured in the name of the eternal life surgery, Luffy can’t let him out of his sight.

Almost maniacally, carries law all around the sunny like a soother, law barely conscious as chopper is desperately trying to tend to his injuries but luffy just feels WEIRD without law in his arms. He’s being petulant and stubborn about it because he’s not processing WHY he feels this way. 

And law comes back to himself slowly and is equally confused. Feels undeserving for this weird questionable kindness of being dragged all over like a favourite stuffed animal while, again, chopper is BEGGING luffy to leave law in the infirmary

It goes on for days, until law finally tells luffy to for the love of god put him down, and luffy says “I WON’T I CAN’T something BAD will happen again” and Law has to stiltedly assure him that no, it really won’t. He goes on a tangent about compulsions that luffy clearly ignores

And to law this is a special sort of hell because he LOVES this. Knows this is the luffy version of being doted on,and feels entirely undeserving. He’s knocked luffy off course of becoming the pirate king, his one dream. Law can’t be the reason that doesn’t happen

But Luffy keeps not letting him go, until Law has to FORCE the issue “STRAW HAT YA PUT ME DOWN” only for luffy to say “NO I FEEL WEIRD YOU’RE MAKING ME FEEL WEIRD AND I DON’T GET IT, YOU’RE MAKING ME NERVOUS”

he’s throwing a whole mini tantrum on the middle of the deck on the Sunny where everyone is pointedly looking away as if they can’t hear. And Law, equally unable to understand the situation, says, “WELL HOW DO YOU THINK *i* FEEL”

And maybe that’s when it clicks for Luffy. Ohhhhhh this is how law felt all that time? Like uncomfy bad nervous and upset tummy? THAT’S what this is? 

“Traffy is this LOVE?”he asks, VERY loudly. 

And law, turning beet red, says “no!! It’s not!! Put me down!!”

Because law has known luffy in some form or another for three years at this point and law has loved him for all of it and therefore he is WELL AWARE that luffy doesn’t love him back, so this is clearly something else. PTSD, probably. OCD, definitely.

But then , because all of the straw hats ARE there, Franky yells, “don’t listen to him, little bro! That’s definitely love!” 

And law chokes, starts struggling to be put down, ears BURNING and face in flames. “No it’s NOT” he yells.

“Traffy,” Luffy says, a deep frown on his face as his arms wind again and again around law’s middle. “I think franky’s right.” 

“He’s not,” law seethes, struggling against the rubber boa constrictor arms. “ You CAN’T like me, you’re going to be PIRATE KING.”

Luffy looks up at him. “So what?” He asks, genuinely confused 

“You can’t TIE YOURSELF DOWN to THIS,” law says, furtively motioning to himself. “You’re the freest man in the world, you can’t be tied down to someone who couldn’t even beat black beard.”

Luffy studies him. He thinks REALLY hard, tilting his head and observing law’s expressions go through the five phases of grief. Then he says “that’s dumb, Traffy. Being free means I can choose whatever I want, and I want you.”

Which is, like, something law never let himself think about. So he doesn’t know how to respond. It doesn’t make SENSE. Luffy is everything, is freedom and joy, and law is a man who’s failed every important person in his life.

But luffy IS free to choose, is the thing. And law long ago vowed to do whatever he could to make him pirate king, so. 

“…fine, straw hat-ya. I think you will change your mind, but I won’t stand in your way.”

Luffy laughs. “That’s a weird way to say you’ll be my boyfriend, traffy,” he says. 

And then he gives law the worst, most wet kiss in history. All the straw hats in the vicinity cover their ears in embarrassment.