#but i had to condense it because it would have been too long

[scrawlingwithstyle]

I just feel like info-dumping about my D&D character. If you're interested, strap in.

Ash, a half-elf trickery cleric, had a best friend and partner-in-crime, a tiefling who took the name Serendipity (Sera for short) for the goddess of good fortune, Tymora.

They played pranks together and partnered up for Ash's sham magic trinket shop.

Some time in the future, Ash got teased for being a trickery cleric who doesn't know how to pick locks, and I just realized: she never learned because that was what Sera did. Sera was the rogue!

Anyway, they were close friends for a few years before Sera was kidnapped and killed. Another conman killed Sera as part of a greater tiefling-genocide scheme to try to gain power, but he also had a personal grudge against Ash, so Sera was more than just collateral damage.

Ash took it extra hard because she was working up the courage to tell Sera she was in love with her.

About 8 years later, Ash is still on the hunt for the conman, whose real name she doesn't know. She is also part of a party who are in training to become deities.

She meets Dave, a life cleric who values honesty so greatly that it leaves a great impression on her. She's immediately intrigued and thinks she'll just keep tabs on him from a distance--until he finds out her party is supposed to make a new creature and he can't allow them to meddle with the power to create life.... Not without supervision, anyway.

In a moment alone together, Ash reveals her past and real name to him, and he helps her figure out what kind of a deity she wants to be.

Not long after that, the party finds the bastard who killed Sera, put him on trial, and at sentencing, turn him over to the party's death cleric (who specializes in vivisection) and her necromancer boyfriend. (Dave requests to be blissfully ignorant of his fate.)

In a very brief period of time (like 2 weeks), Ash and Dave kiss, her party saves him from an evil goddess who kidnapped him, and a few other events lead to them getting married. Since Sune (goddess of love) officiated the ceremony, they were telepathically bonded (they share thoughts back and forth) and each knows exactly where the other is.

(This is relevant: Dave's dad has many wives and partners.)

It has been around 3.5 months in-game since then, and the party is still working on their creature. Their travels take them back to the Astral Plane, where Ash had been invited to seek out Sera's spirit (they had met thrice in the last year, and each time Ash figured it would be best not to share her feelings).

When Sera pulls her aside for a private conversation about everything she's missed (the wedding, Ash getting pregnant), it gets harder and harder to not tell her how she feels. In her mind, Dave encourages her to do so. She confesses, Sera cries, Ash cries, and then Dave interrupts with, "I love you. And I'm not the only one."

Ash has already made up her mind to bring her friend back from the dead, but she is confused at what he implies. "I thought... when I said I didn't want to share you, you felt the same way. Did I miss something?"

"I don't intend to share you with another man. I would not wish for you to share me with another woman. But she is not another man, and she is not for me. I have no such reservations in this case. Besides... she had you first."

Shocked and delighted, she tells Sera what Dave said, and asks if this is an arrangement she would be happy with.

Sera agrees and joins their party as a spirit.

~~~

This is where we left off, but now we have a new side quest to resurrect Ash's dead girlfriend. I also made this:

[parfaitblogs]

false god ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer (literally) cannot wait to show you how pretty he thinks you are tonight. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: established relationship. public stuff. fingering. the team is there. readers wearing a skirt. he looooves you. they're at a bar. kinda soft dom!spence but like only if you squint. i have never posted smut before if im missing tags tell meee word count: 1.9k a/n: biting the bullet. posting smut (shudders). i have a singular roman empire and it is spencer reid plus fingering. i think about it sooo often. i do not think he would be the type to actually do this in public so yes it is self indulgent yes u can all call me crazy!! idgaf!!! i feel like the pacing in this is kinda weird pls forgive i never write smut :< if it's bad don't tell me let me be blissfully ignorant thank YEW!!

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with him (Spencer Reid). Something fundamentally broken in his brain, because he had not said a word to you that made sense from the second he picked you up from your apartment that evening. 

A lot of 'mhm's' and 'yeah's', which from maybe any other man would be normal, was not from him. He didn't speak incredibly eloquently, per se. But he did always respond to you in sentences. He liked to talk, so this lack of it was concerning you. 

He was seated next to you, in the booth Penelope Garcia had scouted out the second she stepped foot into the bar you were all meeting at. It was supposed to be a simple evening. Some drinks, some talking, winding down after the awful case you had just come back from. Spencer's lack of talking had you feeling anything but (simple). 

"Are you okay?" you had asked him when half the team stood up to go purchase the second round of drinks for everyone, and he wordlessly nodded his head, staring at the glass of water on the table in front of him, condensation sweating down to the wood. 

He wasn't. But there was only so much you could do for him when he was shutting down, especially in a public setting, so you nodded your own head, and settled into conversation with JJ instead. 

His hand found your thigh at some point during the conversation, and while you had flinched at its first contact, you didn't think much of it — he was never one for huge displays of affection, but he loved having his hands on you. An act as simple as a hand on your back had you swooning now, because you knew in his mind, he was thinking everything there was to possibly think about you. 

What you did think much of, was the way it crept higher as the team returned with drinks, and the noise from your booth got louder as conversations clashed with each other. 

Your head turned to the side, eyebrows furrowing, but he was still staring at his half-drank glass of water, with no real expression on his face. Frustratingly so.

He was never cruel, you learned. It was why his next action didn't occur until you had finished your sentence to JJ, as if to prevent what would've been your vocal chords tightening and lifting the octave of your voice as you spoke. 

It was such a featherlike touch it was hardly there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't do it again. And again. And again. One of his fingers brushing delicately over the centre of your underwear in a quick swiping motion, that had your head snapping to the side, meeting his jawline and his unwavering gaze with his glass of water. 

"Spencer," you muttered, and it was only then did he tilt his head down to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

His hand wrapped around the side of your inner thigh and tugged you across the seat, closer to him, his head ducking down to speak. 

"You're really pretty," he murmured, and your eyebrows only furrowed further at that.

"Thank you," you decided to say. "But what are you doing?"

"I just wanna touch you. Is that okay?"

You were silent for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because he was already pulling his hand off your thigh, nodding his head.

"I mean, yes," you quickly say, catching his wrist before it could stray too far. "I was just confused where this was coming from."

"I really like the skirt," he explained, and your lips parted and an amused huff of air left them. Of course.

"Me too."

"Need you to wear it more often," he then said, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. "Please?"

"Maybe," you said, because it was all you could say, considering he was moving things along a little bit faster now that you had consented (not that you think you would've denied it). 

His ministrations were small enough that you could keep your voice steady as you kept conversation going with JJ, but firm enough that you squirmed every thirty seconds. He, on the other hand, was acting as though he was doing nothing to you, engaged in a conversation about the origins of pasta, with David Rossi. 

"I mean, in Greek mythology, it suggests that the Greek god Vulcan invented a device that made strings of dough. Which could be classified as the first spaghetti," he said, and at the same time, his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, brushing over your embarrassingly wet folds. 

You watched him stiffen, only because you had killed your conversation with JJ with one too many 'uh-huh's', and his jaw locked.

You were merely observant as he circled your clit a few times, until you were picking up your drink and forcing yourself to sip on it in order to keep your mouth busy — instead of releasing a moan that you really didn't want the team to hear. 

His gaze flicked to you for only half a second, and you met his eyes with an embarrassingly desperate look, and he laughed, oh so quietly, before a finger slipped into you. 

It was so gentle you thought you would go insane, and he rested the finger there for a few seconds as he responded to an argument Rossi had made about the Italian's inventing bolognese or whatever. You weren't really listening. 

The internal war you were dealing with; a pool of fiery butterflies in your stomach and the constant screaming to stay quiet in your brain was a stark contrast to Spencer's relaxed state. Because he had lazily began to move his finger like it was Sunday morning and he was easing you awake, and not in the middle of a Virginia bar with conversations amongst the team happening around you. 

You hated him for that.

Your hips squirmed when he crooked his finger, and your free hand bolted to his wrist, holding his hand still just before he could do it again, and elicit a sound from you.

The second Rossi had become immersed in something Morgan had said, Spencer's gaze was returning to you, an amused smile stretched across his lips. 

"You okay, honey?" he murmured, ducking his face down to kiss your cheek, heat blossoming on the spot. 

"I am trying so hard not to make a noise," you said, and he smiled, and you could feel it against your skin, wonderfully so.

"And you're doing an excellent job of it."

"You know, if you just took me to the bathroom..." you trailed off, eyes flickering up to him. 

"Not happening. Do you know how many germs are in public bathrooms?"

"Probably as many as the seat you're currently fingering me on," you hissed, voice hushed. 

At that, he pushed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you choked out a mewl. 

"I can stop," he said, though it didn't come out as a warning. You knew he only offered it because he would get the reaction of you violently shaking your head. "Right. No bathroom."

"No bathroom," you agreed with a flip of your stomach. 

His attention was captured by a conversation again, and with it, his finger began moving again. He was moving it with such an expertise that if this was any other situation you'd be impressed. Unfortunately, you were a little preoccupied with trying not to make a sound to appreciate how well he knew your body. 

Lazy pumps of his finger had you reeling and he was hardly doing anything, which was definitely going to be embarrassing to think about later on when he brings this up. Like you knew he would. 

Your A+ streak of making no noise was interrupted — quite rudely — by him slipping another finger in, the uncomfortable stretch that only lasted a second eliciting a whimper you couldn't keep to yourself. His eyebrows shot up and you were thankful Rossi had not been looking at him when his gaze rested on you again, and that the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out the sound to anyone who wasn't listening for it. 

"Too much?" he asked, but the second you felt him slowly pulling that second finger back, you were shaking your head, nails digging into the wrist that you still had captured. 

"No. It's not. Promise."

He smiled, and wordlessly nodded his head as he allowed the finger to straighten inside of you. Then, he moved them in and out of you a few times, achingly slowly. 

"Spencer," you breathed out, frustrated. 

"Yes, angel?"

"Can you please... just... go faster," you bit out, heat flushing your cheeks. Again.

"That would make it obvious," he answered, and you let out a huff of air. You knew he was right. "But," he added, upon detecting your annoyance. "I can do this."

He was once again proving how well he knew your body, because his thumb so easily found your clit, and circled it in a way that shot sparks up through your body.

"Yes you can," you agreed, nodding your head eagerly, and he breathed out a chuckle.

It seemed to be a lot easier to do that fast enough and hide what he was doing to you at the same time, because his fingers bent upwards at the same time he flicked his thumb over your clit, and whatever self-control you thought you had was swindled.

Your teeth bit down on the disintegrating paper straw, just to stop the moan that caught in the base of your throat from leaving it, and at that, he did it again. 

Spencer Reid was good at a lot of things. Making you come from the lightest of touches seemed to be joining that long list. Your head buried itself into the forearm of the hand that was touching you, at the same time he used it to push your hips back into the seat when they had begun to lift upwards. 

"You're making it obvious," he said to you, and what you're sure would've been a wonderfully eloquent argument died in your throat when he flicked your clit again. 

"I can't," you managed to get out, shaking your head as your fingers dug perhaps a little too hard into his wrist. 

"No?" he mused, though didn't stop his movements. You shook your head. He smiled. "So you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Mm, you're conflicting yourself, angel," he said, and you groaned for more than just how he was making you feel because you knew that. 

You bit down on his arm through his shirt to silence another moan when he pushed his fingers in a little harder than before, and if it hurt, he didn't say anything. You decided it must not have, because he repeated that movement. 

You were fighting against the need to squirm as your stomach tightened. And he must've figured out what was happening, because he masked your incandescent need to moan by using his opposite hand to entangle within your hair, bringing your face into his chest, acting as a hug to anyone who could see you. 

"There you go," he murmured, awfully gently, in your ear, as your walls fluttered around his fingers. 

You weren't sure if you were imagining your hips jerking until he was slipping his fingers out of you and pushing them down into the seat again.

He wiped his fingers against his pants, and your lips parted, eyes staring at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?" 

You shook your head, regaining a little self control as you settled down. "Nothing. I'm wearing this skirt again, though."

"Good."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[jymwahuwu]

Wrote some pointless thirst. I know this is OOC because nothing official has been released😚 He's so hot... I can't control myself...

cw: dub-con, yandere

Capitano is super cool!!! He has his face covered 24/7. I would hazard a guess that there is a long and deep scar from the war on Capitano's face, or that there are many healed scars on his tightly wrapped chest and abdominal muscles. He held his chin as he relaxed, his long hair hanging down his back. Wrapped in dark fabric were thick muscles and thin nipples.

Capitano has the concept of "absolute righteousness". He requires you to comply with HIS norms, and he requires himself to comply with the ethics of the strong. "No, this is wrong." You murmured. And he argued with you in a commanding tone. He respects your right to express your opinion, but he doesn't want to see you siding with the enemy. In fact, he did not appreciate some of Fatui's actions in various countries. He'll appreciate it if you stop fighting him. While fighting for the Queen and Gnosis, he hopes he can protect you at the same time. He felt a crack in his stoic heart once he thought that you were too weak for the entire jungle and might be destroyed in the unconscious night.

Capitano's palms have some calluses over the years, and he is used to grabbing weapons and condensing ice and snow. He faced many enemies without even using weapons. His palms cupped the soft flesh of your buttocks, and his fingers dug slightly between your thighs through the fabric. Lift your whole body up and place it on his arms. (No matter what size you are,) it's as easy for him as picking up a piece of paper or lifting a kitten. Your eyes widened and you had to put your hands on his neck for balance. This is his way of moving you anywhere quickly. As your hands caressed his chest and applied ointment, he looked at you through the mask, then closed his eyes. He felt sorry for his thoughts that gave rise to indulgence and immorality.

Once Capitano returns from a fight, he lays you on the bed. gently. He pulled the soft fabric of your lower body and spread your legs, staring at the private part between your thighs. No matter how much you try to close your legs and change the subject, it doesn't work until you say a frustrated "…yes." His body will cover you, the long night will cover you, and that monster cock rubs you for a long time until you are so wet that it becomes a puddle and mud. He drove forward, controlling the lightest intensity.

"Too-too big…!! This is impossible!!" As he gradually advances and expands, the panic chases the pleasure and entangles your heart. Capitano doesn't understand. He felt that he was of normal size and nothing "impossible" would happen. Are you making too much of a fuss? He gritted his teeth and explored the deepest area more slowly but surely. Your eyes reflected "❤", and the sound of water responded to his desire, followed by a slow and deep push in and out. Gradually increase the speed until your waist bounces and your toes curl, forming an orgasm.

After you were too tired and fell asleep on the pillow, Capitano took off his gloves and caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. The sound of your sleeping breath and chest rising and falling. With his other hand, he tried to remove the mask, but stopped. The kiss was too soft and intimate for him now. He needs to complete his mission of taking away Gnosis from the gods and protecting the world from Heavenly principles first.

Capitano <3<3

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for @i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

Request: I was thinking of doing a warlock x bar keep (maybe a minatour or orc, honestly dealers choice), but because the reader is a warlock her patron (a tentacle guy) is always watching, so she warns the bar keep thinking he will wanna stop, but he dosen’t. So while the bar keep and reader are having sex (in the closed bar), some tentacles from her patron come out and help. And maybe if possible have the patron speak to reader in her mind and just is super condensing and dirty. While the bar keep is super nice and praising. So reader warns orc that tentacle monster will be watching and interacting, but orc doesn't really care, or likes the idea!

A/N: The phrases in italics are said inside the reader and orc’s mind. Enjoy!

After closing

Orc x gn!tentacle monster x warlock fem!reader || tentacle sex, sharing is caring, exhibitionism (kinda?), semi-public sex, double penetration, dirty talk, (light) degradation

You were tending the bar, and all night long, an orc had been chatting you up when you weren’t busy. He was handsome and big, and looked good enough to eat. So when he asked: “Can I stay?”

You couldn’t do anything but to agree. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Let me help you,” he offered as you cleaned the place, taking the broom and doing a quick but efficient job at cleaning most of the dirt on the floor. You weren’t too worried about it, looking at him move and flex was making you all kinds of hot and bothered.

When he finished his helping, you both meet at the table next to the back door. A part of you was hyper-aware of everything around you, of his body getting closer and the predatory shadow in his eyes. He breathed deeply in front of you, his nostrils flaring when he caught your desire in the air. He growled softly, and you whined. You loved your lovers growly.

He launched to kiss you when you softly stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I- I have to warn you, though.”

He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your jaw… “About what?” He asked between kisses, his hands traveling up and down your back, a bit closer to your ass with each stroke. You were slowly losing your mind, but you needed to inform him first, before they appeared.

“The patron…” You started, and your voice broke when he sucked on your neck, his tusks caressing your skin in the most tantalizing way. “He likes to watch and participate,” you finished when your brain came back.

That made him stop. “What?”

“I’m just giving you a heads up, they can appear at any moment and they… they like to participate,” you let out the last part in a whisper. You weren’t sure how he was going to take it, some people left after she told them. Some of them stayed and had the best night of their lives.

You knew he would be one of the second. “Participate, huh?” His smirk and the innuendo in his tone made you shiver in anticipation.

“They are very… enthusiastic.” That was an understatement, but you preferred him to discover that in due time.

His voice lowered a couple octaves as he said: “Are they gonna help me drive you senseless?” And growled a little, making your knees give up under you. He grabbed your ass and sat you on the table, the perfect height for his dick to rub against your clothed pussy. You groaned out loud and he chuckled.

“I don’t know, maybe.” But you knew they would, they had done it every time you dared to have sex at the bar. And if you were completely true to yourself, you’d accept that it was the main reason why you kept inviting some of the patrons to have sex after hours, so you could feel their tentacles over your body again.

“I’m in, I don’t mind sharing, especially if it’s a morsel such as yourself, so delectable.” As he talked he reached to touch your body, his hands finding the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath and touching your soft skin. Your skin was electrified, sending tiny sparks his way, making him shiver in response. “I fucking love sex with warlocks,” he said as he groped your boob, approaching your body and kissing your neck. You send another wave of electricity down his body, making him growl again as you giggled.

“I’m not the first, then?” You joked, not bothered at all by whatever his response might be as you pulled at his shirt and your mouths met. It was exhilarating, to have such a big monster over you, next to you. His green hands traveling over your body like you were a treasure. It was wonderful.

Things got heated pretty quick after that, both of you naked and grinding against each other between frantic kisses when you felt them. It was a tentacle across your ankle, but it rapidly ascended and joined your grinding, wrapping themselves around your orc’s dick and adding texture to it.

Such good sluts for me, the voice of your patron sounded inside your brain, and by the gasp your lover emitted, inside his, too. You two look great all needy grinding against each other, I love to watch that.

You both groaned as the tentacle squeezed his dick and rubbed the suckers against your dripping pussy. Another tentacle joined over the orc’s shoulder, closing around your neck as you gasped for air and parted the kiss. You threw your head back when a third and fourth tentacle groped your tits.

Look at these tits, so perfect to grope, I bet you’d love to be groped in the middle of a service. Yeah, you would… Maybe next time I would just fuck you when everyone is here. You’d like that? Their voice inside your brain was rough and condescending, sending shivers down your body as they kept talking. Of course you’d like that, you are a slut. And our orc friend here… He’s a slut, too. Your orc companion groaned loudly. Look at him all dark green, flustered because a tentacle monster is playing with him.

You looked at him just in time to see some tentacles caressing his body as you watched mesmerized. It was such a turn on to be at the mercy of a powerful tentacle monster… As you got fucked by anther monster, your body was vibrating with pent up energy as hands and tentacles touched you everywhere.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” You chanted as your orc companion groaned, his head thrown back as he was caressed by tentacles.

“Yes. Yes,” he was having problems of his own trying to align his dick with your pussy, the tentacles holding his hands away and sucking on his nipples. He cried out so loud you were worried someone could hear him from the outside, but a part of you found that even hotter. You tried to reach for his cock to do it yourself, but the tentacles stopped you, too.

You two are mine to play, you can’t decide when you do anything.

You were completely at their mercy, both of you were. You felt a tentacle caressing your asshole, probing and pushing lightly, making you moan loudly. Your orc lover wasn’t far behind, probably some tentacles doing the same to him. It was exhilarating to know he was also being fucked, that you two were nothing but toys. And judging by his moans, he thought so, too.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I’ve never- Nobody ever…” He tried, but his voice kept breaking with loud groans. By the time the tentacle breached your asshole, you had half of a brain-cell left. Your body melting against the table as the orc in front of you melted on top of you. His mouth was open in a silent cry as a tentacle breached him. “This is… this is… Oh, Goddess.”

Oh, they sound so good when they are virgins. Your patron chuckled inside your brain. Guess someone is going to discover the wonders of tentacle AND anal sex today.

You wanted to laugh, to agree with him, but you didn’t have time before you felt something against your pussy. The orc’s cock, but it wasn’t alone. The tentacle that was jerking him didn’t let go, it curled around him and helped him inside of you, adding girth and texture to his already huge dick. It broke into you with a pop, your opening accepting them like an offering from the gods.

Such a good slut taking everything I give you, everything we give to you. I love how slutty you get, how desperate when you are stuffed.

You felt everything. The suckers, the ridges, the huge tip of the orc’s cock against your G-spot right before the tentacle moved and latched a sucker there. You screamed so loud you felt your companions shiver inside of you. It was too much, too fast, too far, too tight. You felt fuller than ever, your asshole being fucked by a tentacle, and your pussy overflowing with the combination of your lovers, it was way better than anything you thought possible. It was way better than anything you’ve ever felt before.

“I’m going- I’m gonna… Oh fuck!” His broken cry was accompanied by warm come inside of you, making you scream as you precipitated over the edge with him. It was a blinding orgasm, so powerful and intense that you felt your brain melting inside your brain and your body electrifying itself. “You are glowing, fuck, fuck, you are glowing.” His voice was harsh after screaming, and you realized he was right. Your magic surfacing in the weirdest way when you came, making you glow like a street lamp in the dim interior of the bar.

You came so hard you had to glow? Pathetic. I bet I can make you cry to look even more pathetic than you already are. Such a slut for some monster dick and tentacles… You wanted to answer them, to say something, but their words made you moan, humiliation making you hot all over. Your orc friend wasn’t better, groaning as they kept talking. And you? An orc whore who’ve never been fucked and now is pushing his ass back into my tentacles… ridiculous. But I bet I can make you cry, too. I love when they cry.

And then the tentacles started moving again. Moving his body and his dick, moving themselves inside your assholes. They were playing with you two like you were toys for their entertainment, and you two were powerless to stop them. It was intoxicating.

You came. And he came.

And it happened again. And again. And again.

By the time the tentacle monster decided they didn’t want to play with you two anymore, you were like rag dolls over the table, completely spent and tired, dried of all pleasure in your body. You didn’t even know how much it lasted, but you could hear some rooster far away. It was probably close to dawn… They fucked you two all night long, they squeezed every single drop of pleasure inside of you and left you there when they got bored…

Bar opens again in a couple hours, if I were you I would get dressed. But if you don’t… I guess you’d be the spectacle of the night.

You glowed again, your body responding to their threat as your orc companion got up on shaky legs and got dressed. He kissed your forehead before leaving, telling you he’d be back. You wanted to giggle at his soft whisper, your patron had that effect.

And you couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

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[wtfsteveharrington]

"an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them" with Luca please!

a/n: i love luca so so bad i fear s3 has giving me horrific brain rot for him baby boy i’m knocking on ur door and getting on one knee

contents: kissing, some pda, cluelessness, all my faves

"I mean... I think we're just friends, right?"

Luca takes a long swig from his cold beer pint. Using the drink as an excuse to buy himself time to think. It was some draft IPA that was just the perfect level of pretentious where he didn’t look like a dick but separated himself from some domestic bottle. Something that would matter to no one except a man with his level of perception anxiety. Condensation dripping down his wrist which your eyes follow, trailing the drops as they roll down his forearm.

"Right. And would it be worth risking things between us to test out... Something more? Because I don't want to lose you just to find out we’re being a touch crazy.”

"I don't want to lose you either." You rush out after his sentence, shaking your head while resting your hands on your knees. The rough material of your jeans against your palms helping to keep you grounded.

It had been a half an hour since you and Luca passed some wonderful older woman on the street who needed directions. Luca was able to relay them by heart, though it didn’t stop you from double checking on your phone to ensure you didn’t send her off on a misguided path. She beamed at the two of you once she knew her way, patting Luca’s arm and asking the question that has broken the two of you ever since. “How long have you two been married?”

To which the two of you sputtered out a mess of words, none of which made any sense, and the older woman gave a tsk tsk tsk. “You better propose before it’s too late. Shouldn’t let such a catch get away.” The takes off on her journey. Both of you stood their with your jaws dropped before you finally started continuing on your path to the bar and trying to laugh it off.

But neither of you could let it go.

“We could-…“ You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back and strengthening your resolve, “We could kiss? That way we can feel there’s nothing there and get it out of minds.”

Luca stares down at his beer, eyeing the way the foam is slowly dissipating and contemplating his options. “Just one kiss?”

You nod, “Just one. Lips only, no tongue, nothing crazy.”

His body’s turning to you, eyes filled with apprehension. Searching your face for any sign of doubt, which he doesn’t find, before nodding back to you. “Just one. We’re realize how silly this is and put it behind us.”

Luca’s hand comes to rest on top of yours, the bar suddenly feeling so much warmer and intimate than before. Thankfully no one was paying attention to your little table tucked away in the back corner. He’s watching your breathing, watching your expression. Catches your tongue dart out to moisten your lips and he does the same.

He’s close enough now where you can feel the warmth rolling off his body, you can hear each steady breath he takes. “Just… Stop me if this is weird, yeah?”

You nod, leaning in as well until your noses brush against each other and your eyes fall closed before your lips connect against his. They’re slightly cold from his drink, hints of beer still on his lips. You stay connected for just a moment before you pull away, eyeing him apprehensively.

“How was that?”

He sucks in some air, staying close to you still. “It was, uhm, chaste. To say the least.”

There’s a flush on your cheeks at that.

“Well… I mean, We can do a real kiss if you want.”

Luca’s eyes are on yours, his hand moving to slide up your thigh and grabs ahold of it. “We should just make sure, y’know? Because that told me nothing.”

It’s a flawed plan but you’re not thinking as clearly with him this close.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you bring the two of you closer once again. Your lips finding his and you let out a soft moan as you feel his part under yours. He takes the chance to let his tongue slide against your bottom lip before slipping between your lips and into your mouth. You lace one of your hands in his hair while his free arm wraps around your waist now.

It’s his turn to groan into the kiss. The sound causes you to press your thighs together while your tongue moves along his. Your breathing is picking up and you’re convinced he can hear just how hard your heart is beating.

He tastes sweet. The IPA mixed with vanilla from the custard he kept having to taste during service. It was addicting to say the least.

Minutes, hours, days pass by as you lose yourself in him. Eventually you hear him groan, pulling back slightly to press another kiss to your bottom lip before leaning back in his chair. Beaming at your shocked expression.

Your hand comes up, fingers resting against your lips as you chase the feeling of the kiss. Oh.

Luca has to adjust himself on the seat, chuckling at the sight of you as he tries to relax his breathing. “She, uh, she might have known what she was talking about.”

Luca looks smug, even with his blushing cheeks, as he takes another drink of his beer. His hand never leaving your thigh.

[itneverendshere]

I love pogue!reader and rafe sm. I’m so excited every time you post them ❤️ what if reader realizes she’s really falling for rafe and it’s getting serious so she’s tries to self sabotage and end it. She’s thinking he’s THE kook and she’s a pogue. It can’t last and she won’t survive that heartbreak. so rafe starts to panic but then realizes what’s she’s doing by ending it so he’s just like lol no nice try I’m not going anywhere

 i would follow you home - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.1k

hope you enjoy, i love them too 🩵

It was mid-afternoon, that quiet lull between lunch and dinner when the regulars started to trickle in. And like clockwork, you were wiping down the bar, mindlessly watching the condensation drip from a glass of iced tea when you saw Rafe strolling in.

He always had that cocky walk, shoulders rolled back like he owns the place, which, you guess, technically he kinda did, or at least his dad did. Cameron Development Group practically built the country club.

He spotted you and the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made your stomach flip. God, you hated how it still got to you.

After months of this—him swinging by the bar at the end of his golf games, lounging against the counter like it was no big deal, driving you home, saving you from the storms, letting you kiss him—your heart should’ve calmed the hell down. But no, here you were, butterflies fluttering in your chest, fingers tightening around the rag you were using to clean.

You tossed it on the counter and busy yourself with stacking glasses.

“Hey, stranger.” His voice was all smooth like he knew exactly what effect it had on you. And he did. You were still a shitty liar and he learned that fast. 

You glanced up, trying to keep things cool, casual. “Hey yourself.”

He settled into one of the barstools, leaning forward, his blue eyes locking on yours. “You off soon?”

You shrugged. “Depends. Why?”

The truth was, you knew why. You knew exactly what he was asking.

He was wondering if you would have time after this—time to sneak off to that little spot by the docks where you'd been meeting up, where things between you had been getting more…a little complicated?

And that’s exactly why you needed to end this.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen it coming. You’d known for a while that whatever this thing was with Rafe, it was headed in a direction you couldn’t afford to follow. He was the poster child for Kook royalty. Born with a silver spoon and all that. Meanwhile, you were still just the bartender, a Pogue, barely scraping by. 

It started simple—quick conversations after work, long talks on the drive home, those random texts at 2 a.m. that turned into hours of you two confessing things you’d never say out loud to anyone else.

You din’t know when it shifted into this—this weird gray area where everything felt more intense. Maybe when you all but kissed him when he picked you up after the storm. That had to be it.

Because you knew how this story ended. You knew what happened when a girl like you fell for a guy like Rafe Cameron.

Heartbreak.

And you wouldn’t survive that.

“I’ve been thinking,” You blurted out, suddenly very aware of the way his eyes were still on you. Too aware. You reached for a clean glass, filling it with soda water to distract yourself. “Maybe we should… I dunno, cool it for a bit.”

His smirk faltered. “Cool it?”

“Yeah,” You shrugged again, trying to seem nonchalant, even though your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. “I mean, this was fun and all, but let’s be real—”

“Be real?”

You nodded, not daring to look up from the glass you were holding.

“We’re not exactly from the same world, Rafe. It was bound to end sooner or later. Might as well rip the band-aid off now.”

Silence. For a beat, he doesn’t say anything, and for a second you wonder if you had done it—if you’d actually convinced him that this wasn’t worth it, that he should’ve just walked away and left you with at least a sliver of your heart intact.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t like a mocking laugh, but it was still a sound you weren’t expecting. Your eyes snapped up to his face, and you saw that damn smirk was back. Only this time, there was something softer in his eyes, something almost… amused?

“Oh, I see what this is.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking way too pleased with himself.

You frowned, instinctively grabbing a towel and wiping the counter again, trying to distract yourself from the way his eyes were making you feel seen. Too seen. 

“What?”

“You’re scared.”

Your stomach dropped. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted, standing up and rounding the bar until he was way too close, until you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin and the fresh grass scent of the golf course. He caged you in with his body, one hand gripping the counter behind you, the other reaching up to tilt your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re trying to push me away because you’re scared. But newsflash, sweetheart—nice try. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight, because damn it, he was right. He was completely, 100% right, and you hated it. You hated that he could see right through you like that, see all your fears, all the things you’d been trying so hard to bury.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

You didn’t know what to say because, deep down, you didn’t want to believe that it mattered to him. You wanted to believe that he saw you for more than just the girl behind the bar. But every time you let yourself get close, that voice in the back of your head reminded you that this wasn’t some fairytale.

“Rafe, you’ll get bored,” you mumbled, barely able to get the words out. “You’ll realize this was just… a phase. I mean, we’re friends, right? We can just… go back to that.”

“Go back to that?” He repeated your words slowly like he was testing them out. And then he laughed—this short, disbelieving sound that made your stomach twist, “You’re trying to run.”

“Am not.”

“You are.

“There’s nothing to run from,” You snapped, though even you didn’t believe that.

He was close enough now that you had to tilt your head almost all the way back to meet his eyes, and there was something so raw, so real in the way he was looking at you that you couldn’t breathe.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing,” you managed to repeat, but the word came out more like a question than a statement. The self-doubt you’d been trying to ignore bubbled up, and you hated yourself for it. 

He leaned in closer, and you could feel his breath against your skin. “If you think there’s nothing between us, then why does it hurt so much to even think about letting it go?”

His words hit a particular soft spot, and you had to bite your lip to keep from gasping. You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that you could walk away and be fine.

But the truth was, you weren’t fine. You weren’t even close to fine.

The whole time you’d been telling yourself this was just a fling, some wild phase that would burn out eventually—because that was what made sense. You weren’t supposed to fall for the guy who came from money and lived in a mansion on the hill, while you were still sharing a room with your sister in a run-down house, after yours got destroyed, on the wrong side of the island. 

This was never supposed to be real.

“You don’t get it. You’ve never had to worry about—about someone like me not fitting into your life. You don’t have people looking at you and thinking ‘what the hell is he doing with her?’”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and his thumb brushed a light circle against your waist, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Who cares what people think? I’m not with them. I’m with you.”

You shook your head, more to yourself than to him, stepping back just enough to put some space between you.

"No. No, it’s not that simple. You don’t get it. You don’t get what it’s like to always be the one left behind. You’ll get bored, and then what? You just walk away and I’m the one left picking up the pieces."

He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done.

"And don't say you won’t, because everyone does! I’ve seen this before. I’ve been through it. I don’t survive guys like you." Your voice cracked, and damn it, you hated how vulnerable you sounded, but it was too late. It was all spilling out now, all the fear you’d kept bottled up.

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and instead of the cocky smirk you expected, there was something different in his eyes. Anger? No, frustration maybe. But not at you.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “You think I’m just some guy playing games, huh? That I’m gonna wake up one day and decide you’re not worth it?”

You crossed your arms, hugging yourself as if that would protect you from the way his words were hitting you too hard. “Isn’t that what happens?”

“No. Not with me.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do know that!” His voice rose, and you flinched a little, caught off guard by the intensity.

He noticed and apologized immediately, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours but stopping just short. "I’m here, with you. Because I want to be. Don’t you get that?"

You hated the way he was looking at you, the way his words hit with brutal honesty you weren’t used to—it made you pause. Your eyes fleeted away, focusing on the floor because looking at him was too much.

"Just let me go," you whispered, "It’ll hurt less now."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and before you could pull back, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you in one swift move.

His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes, and there was no escape from the intensity in them.

"No," he said, firm but quiet. "I’m not letting you go. You’re not pushing me away. I’m not leaving, no matter how hard you try to sabotage this."

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you shook your head, trying to argue, but then his lips were on yours, cutting off whatever weak protest you had left. The kiss wasn’t gentle or slow—it was harsh, like he was trying to make you understand something without words. 

 And damn it, you kissed him back. Because of course, you did.

Because despite everything you said, everything you feared, you wanted this. You wanted him. But the second you felt yourself giving in, you pushed him back, your hands pressed against his chest, trying to regain some control. 

"Stop doing that," you snapped, breathless.

"Doing what?" He sounded just as breathless, but he didn’t step away.

"Kissing me like you can fix this. Like—like I’m just gonna believe you."

He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping your waist, keeping you close. "You don’t have to believe me now, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll prove it to you, okay? Just stop trying to run every time it gets hard."

"I don’t know how to do this," you admitted quietly, your hands still resting against his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

"I’ll show you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Just stop pushing me away."

For a moment, you let yourself just be there with him, your defenses crumbling piece by piece. You didn’t know how long it would last, or if you could even survive it, but maybe… just maybe, he was worth the risk.

But still, you couldn’t help but mutter, "You’re so stupid, you know that?"

His lips twitched into a smile. “And you’re still kissing me, again, so what does that say about you?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the way your lips twitched with a smirk of your own.

 “Says I’m just as stupid as you,” you muttered under your breath, but the words lacked bite. Your hands stayed on his chest, fingers still gripping his polo like you were afraid to let go, like maybe if you held on tight enough, you wouldn’t fall apart, “Do you always go around kissing the saff?” You mumbled out.

Rafe’s hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you in closer. His forehead still rested against yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, brushing against your skin. It was infuriating how easy it was to melt into him.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the start of a grin, “Only the ones who can’t seem to stay away from me.”

You groaned, shoving him in the chest with just enough force to make him stumble back a step. “God, you’re insufferable.”

He caught your wrists before you could pull away completely, his grip gentle, keeping you close enough that you could still feel the warmth of his skin through your clothes. “Yeah, well, you seem to like insufferable.”

“Do I though?” You quipped, trying to sound indifferent, but your heartbeat was giving you away. You could feel it hammering in your chest, “Because I feel like this whole thing is a bad idea. You know, like ‘kiss the rich guy, ruin your life’ kind of bad idea.”

Rafe’s expression softened, and the teasing glint in his eyes faded. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You tried to play dumb.

“Talk like this doesn’t mean something. Like I don’t mean something to you.” His voice was low, but there was a seriousness in it that made your stomach flip. “We’ve been doing this dance for a while now, and every time it starts to get real, you act like it’s just… casual.”

Your throat tightened, and you tried to pull your wrists free, but he didn’t let go, making it clear he wasn’t letting you run again.

“Maybe it is casual,” you said, even though the words tasted like a lie. “Maybe we’re just two people having a good time, and that’s it.”

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that made your chest ache. “Nah. You’re not fooling me anymore. You don’t kiss someone like you kissed me just for fun.”

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “Rafe…”

“And you don’t look at me like that when I walk in unless there’s more to it.” His voice softened as his thumb traced light circles against your skin. “So stop pretending it’s nothing.”

“I should be working.”

But Rafe wasn’t letting you off that easy. “Yeah, you probably should,” he said, but his hands didn’t move, and neither did his eyes.

“So you’re gonna let me go?”

“Why’d you kiss me that day?” he asked, "I’ve been wondering.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the question. He was so close, and it was hard to think, let alone answer something that felt so…disarming like everything you’d been running from was waiting in his words.

"I don’t know," you groaned, suddenly feeling like a cornered animal. "I wasn’t thinking straight."

His fingers traced a slow line down your arm, sending shivers through you. "You sure about that?" His voice was quiet, like he already knew you were lying, knew you too well for you to hide behind that excuse. "Because it didn’t feel like just some random kiss."

You scoffed, trying to laugh it off, trying to keep your cool, but the sound came out shaky.

"It was— I don’t know, Rafe. It was just the heat of the moment, okay? The storm… everything." You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze because you knew he wasn’t buying it. "You saved me, and I guess I was—"

"Grateful?" he interrupted, his brow arching. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”

You winced. "I didn’t mean it like that."

“Yeah, well, it sure sounds like you’re trying to make it seem like it meant nothing. Like you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it impossible to respond right away. He wasn’t wrong. That kiss had meant something—maybe more than you were ready to admit to yourself, let alone to him.

“You can’t keep acting like you don’t care, because I know you do. You wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t.”

The way he said it, so certain, so sure of himself—it made your heart race even faster. 

“Why do you care so much?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Why does it matter?”

He frowned, like you had just asked the stupidest question in the world. “Because it matters to me.”

Your chest tightened at that, and you hated how much you wanted to believe him. "I don’t want to get hurt, Rafe."

"I’m not gonna hurt you." His voice was low, serious, like a promise, but you’d heard promises like that before. "I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’m asking for a chance, just one chance. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened as you stared up at him. He was serious. Like, really serious. And you were scared out of your mind because you wanted to believe him so badly. But trusting someone, letting them in? That was terrifying.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, finally admitting it out loud.

“I know,” he murmured, his forehead resting gently against yours. “But I’m scared too, okay? I want to be with you. So, please, just… give us a shot.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, your mind racing a hundred miles per hour.

You could still feel his lips on yours, the way he made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let your guard down for once. And the truth was, despite all the reasons you’d been telling yourself to walk away, your heart was telling you to stay.

 “Okay.”

His breath caught. “Okay?”

You opened your eyes, “Yeah, okay. I’ll give you a chance. Don’t screw it up.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that stupid, cocky grin, “I won’t. I promise.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead, you found yourself smiling back. 

Maybe this was crazy, maybe you were setting yourself up for heartbreak or maybe you’d really found yourself a soulmate.

[redflagshipwriter]

Mamabat 10 part 2/2

masterpost

Sam craned to listen to secondhand sounds of combat. It was all filtered through Val’s headset, so it was vaguely electronic.

“Up!” Said a female voice. Was that Robin? Sam tried to piece it together. The little one had been Robin, she'd thought. Could have been a boy or a girl. Robin looked around Dani's size. 

Ah, hell. She pushed down the recurring dread that thoughts of Dani brought up. 

Dani was probably fine. She just wasn't answering them because she was fabulously busy in Malaysia or Guam or somewhere else gorgeous and fascinating. She wasn't in one of those labs. They hadn't left her in a lab for a month. Sam’s hands were shaking. She squeezed them hard, angry with herself. Good thing she wasn’t in that fight, she’d be useless like this. Useless!

The percussive sounds of fast, expert violence came through Val's sound system. “Damn,” Val said. “Nice swing.” 

The answer was a feminine laugh. Man, who was that? “Not half bad yourself,” said the unknown girl.

Sam untensed, a little. They didn’t sound stressed. It was probably going fine.

There was a groan. “Spoiler, please,” said Red Robin, in a tone he probably thought was too soft to be overheard. Ha. Val was using Vlad's creepertech, and Vlad was one of the best creeps out there. Sam felt weirdly proud of him for a moment. It bordered patriotism. Their freak was the best freak in the business. Eat your heart out, Batjerk.

“Like you're the only one who can pick up girls on the job?” The girl who had to be Spoiler said. 

Sam snorted. Good luck with that one! Val was spectacularly unavailable. She should know, she had tried. 

“Spoiler, Red Robin, and Robin.” Sam listed aloud for Tucker. “What do we know?” 

“All known associates of Batman, Gotham operatives, estimated active dates are at least a couple years each. Robin is clearly an inherited role, but this current one… been in for two years, I think.” Tucker listed off. “I think Spoiler and Red Robin were both former Robins, that's not too subtle.” 

Sam snorted. Her breath fanned out as visible moisture in the cold night air. 

“Likely older teens or early twenties, both of them. Robin is obviously pre puberty. 13 at the oldest.” 

Val made a subvocal grunt that meant she agreed with Tucker's assessment 

That fit. And she really didn't like it. Sam felt her hackles rise up. What was wrong with Gotham? Her group was all child vigilantes, sure, but they'd had no adult help. They'd also all been 14 or older when they got involved. Except for Dani. God, Dani, please don't be in that building. Sam had to relax her grip on the bazooka handle because she squeezed it so hard that the metal creaked. 

Danny was older now. But she didn't like that this was who he'd ended up with. Sam gritted her jaw hard and tried to keep her temper on a low simmer. She didn't have enough facts to think Batman would put Danny in danger. 

“Clear.” 

“Clear.”

The operation inside seemed to continue smoothly. 

“That should be all the staff members on the premises,” Red Robin said. “First lab, coming up.”

“Behind me.” Batman practically growled the order.

A door opened. Sam held her breath. 

“...Are those samples?” 

Val grunted slightly. Why? What was going on? “Cores,” Val said. “Basically, people who have been injured into a coma. Left like that, they're gonna die slowly. Starvation.” 

“What do we do?” Spoiler cut in. “I mean- what can we do?” 

“Is there a way to transport them?” Val dodged the question. “I don't- yeah, that's good.” 

“Can you provide treatment?” Batman pushed. “Where will you take them?”

Val let out a long, annoyed sigh. “I don't trust you enough to go into the details.”

“Why should we trust you, vixen?” Spat a very young voice.

“Vixen?” Spoiler repeated quietly, incredulously. 

“Robin, you can't say things like that!” Red Robin hissed. “Ow- little asshole.” 

“Enough. Thank you.” Batman cut off the chatter. “Let's clear the facility.” 

They found more cores in the labs. Sam felt her stomach condense tighter and tighter into a knot as they came across research areas time and time again. 

They hadn't taken the GIW seriously enough. They'd thought they were incompetent and funny. How long had scientists been experimenting on captured ghosts here? How many of them had totally withered away? 

“Fuck,” Sam said quietly, and wiped her eyes off with her arm. 

They were clearly finished. No Dani, not unless she was one of the cores rolling around on GIW shelves like she wasn't a person.

Batman and crew came out. She could hear Batman clearly making some kind of call to…. To a Green Lantern, she thought, to pick up the GIW agents. 

Oh. That…

“Probably legit,” Tucker said on the line. He let out a big sigh and his chair clicked when he leaned back, no doubt crossing his arms behind his head. “I guess we should talk to ‘em. Should I come out there?” 

“Yeah, do it,” Sam said. “You want a pick up?” She moved the bazooka from a ready position to rest across her back instead.

Tucker hummed. “That would probably be a little cooler than using my bike.” 

Val snorted, but didn't chime in. Sam dipped back to town and let Tucker climb on behind her. He crouched to hold onto the board with both hands, because he was a sweaty nerd with no balance. 

“The bike might have been cooler,” Sam teased, and then she accelerated hard. She met them back in the field where Batman had landed his plane. As soon as she veered into sight, all of the bats looked at her, clearly ready for a fight.

“Calm down,” Val ordered. “You're all so jumpy.” 

Sam snorted and came to a sharp stop. She braced against Tucker's weight (she knew he'd be jostled.) She aimed her hardest glare at Batman. Fuck everyone else. “Danny said you wanna talk.” 

Behind them, unseen, Val double-checked the straps of a new black bag. Sam had no doubt it was full of helpless cores. 

Batman frowned at her slightly. “...Samantha Manson.” He looked behind her. “And Tucker Foley.” He didn't seem surprised, exactly,  but he didn't seem happy to see them either.

“Old man,” she shot back. “You've got half an hour. But first off, what the hell kinda game are you playing with Danny? Because this-” she waved a hand at his child soldier platoon. “is some bullshit, okay. What's going on?” 

Val shot vertically up with a whoosh of air that blew Spoiler’s hair out. All four bats whirled in time to see her blast off into the distance. 

“Focus!” Sam snapped her fingers. “Why are you here?” 

A muscle twitched in Batman's jaw. “My only intention with Danny is to ensure his safety. I have some concerns about the GIW and about his home situation that I want to look into.” 

Sam scoffed. “Bit late.” She wound some hair around her finger. “They're gone. All of them. You saw what's left of the GIW. The Fentons disappeared the day after the GIW did.” 

She heard the first hint of urgency and upset in his voice when he pressed, “Jasmine Fenton?” 

“Gone.” 

[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

[welcometohellfilm]

Congrats to everyone who has been working on W2H2! 🎉 If it's alright, I'd like to ask to ask 2 questions:

Is there by chance an official ref of colors for Debbie, or is it still up to interpretation at the moment?

Would you say that your personal, real life experiences within the 10 years moving from W2H to W2H2 shifted the tone/story of the series in some way? Something that I've always been fascinated with when I started looking more into W2H was the shift in Sock's character from the original comic -> first film -> second film, and Jonathan's character from the first film -> second film.

Thank you! ✨

I actually just made some 'official'-ish colors for Debbie! Her voice actor Kaitlyn wanted something to use on a banner for conventions haha... so here you go!

2. I'm not really sure how to answer this one, haha. I mean I've definitely changed as a person over the course of making each iteration of W2H. I started the comic while I was at community college, before I went to art school. I adapted it into an animation for my graduation project. And I started W2H2 a couple years after I graduated college. So there's a good 2-3 years between each attempt at W2H I've done, haha. I think a lot of my original ideas from the comic had to change because it needed to be condensed into a short film. I didn't even GET to Jonathan yet in the comic! Some things just didn't make sense to me anymore, like the idea of Sock already having a human body count. It'd just be absurd for him to be able to hide it for so long! Plus, if I made it so that Sock has only ever entertained the idea of murder, it makes his new job that much more appealing-- it's a chance for him to really lean in to this thing he's always had to hide. Between the first and second films though, I mean... I think there's been some tonal shift, for sure (I don't know about a character shift? We'll get to that haha) But basically, when I was first thinking about W2H2, my idea was "Sock and Jonathan hang out and attempt to figure out touch physics, also there's some drama about a journal Jonathan keeps." All of the hell stuff is something that came from bouncing ideas around with my friends, Michael and Neil. I was worried that sending Jonathan to hell would be too bonkers for a "2nd episode", but we all kinda agreed that enough time had passed that the fans would probably enjoy something higher stakes, so it would be fine. (I'll give everyone a moment to realize this conversation would've been happening in 2015-16... ha.)

We also kind of thought, y'know... I have no idea how many more of these there's even gonna' be, so why not go a little bigger with this one? W2H2 is a higher stakes story than what I set out to make in the beginning, that's for sure. It is interesting to compare all of them.. the employee handbook was actually from the comic and I cut that because it wasn't helpful for W2H... but then it became helpful for W2H2, so it came back! Haha. I'm curious to know in what ways people think the characters have changed though. (And is that a good thing or a bad thing?) Especially a character like Jonathan, no one's really even seen that much of him yet, I think most of the characterization comes from fandom, or like... art I've drawn, I guess? Haha... I'm not sure! I guess Sock's a little more confident and antagonistic in this one (though he'll have his moments of hesitation... we're only at Part 1 right now!), and Jonathan has had to become a more vocal/active character, just by nature of the kind of story it is, I suppose. But yeah, I'm not sure! Happy to hear your guys' thoughts though!

[revelboo]

Just dropping by to compliment your writing. Seriously, at this point your posts have basically adopted me. I LOVE everything you write! (Especially because you It made me obsessed with transformers again.) .... anyway, kisses from a Brazilian 😈😘😔💗👍👍

Aww! Thank you so much!

I felt bad and went ahead to type up the second half. The tags you guys add when you reblogged the last bit were making me feel a bit guilty.

Everything is Alright Pt 32

Starscream x Reader-guardian

• Hidden among the clouds, he circles. Can’t make himself leave you there alone, tethered to his own worries. To you. Still watching over you, because you’re so small down there standing right where he left you. Like you’re waiting on him to come back for you. Finally, you begin to walk. But you keep looking up, looking for him and it hurts more than he’d thought it would. Breaks him wide open as he wonders what you’re thinking. That he doesn’t want you anymore? That you’re not needed? He knows that feeling all too well. Hates it.

• You have no idea how far it is to town walking, but you’re already soaking wet and cold. Moving at least might keep you warm since you’re still in that stupid, thin dress. He’s not coming back. You weren’t sure what was going to become of you with him, but just being let go? Maybe to him it’s been like rehabilitating a wild animal and he’d finally decided you could be released back into the wild. Maybe he just really had gotten bored with you. Those maybes are driving you crazy. Because you’re hurt that he just threw you away.

• Because you cared about him. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as lightning crackles across the sky, the wind whipping your soaking hair across your cheek in little, stinging lashes. When exactly had it stopped being a game you were playing to survive? Agreeing with him, pretending interest in his day at first, but when had you genuinely started to care? The same time you’d started smiling when he returned from his duties, because you were really happy to see him and being greeted made him happy. Made his wings lift up higher at being acknowledged. Making him happy had made you happy.

• There’s a truck approaching on the road below as he rolls through the clouds, condensation slicking him. Too high above to hear what’s said when that truck slows beside you. When you turn. Tension winding him tight when you don’t keep walking, but pull open the door and get in. Someone you know? Someone looking for you? To take you home? A friend or something else to you? It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he does.

• Shivering, you reach to angle the vents on the passenger side more directly on you as the driver cranks the heat. He’s older than you, old enough to be your dad and he’s frowning at you. Not buying that you’re okay. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s been a month,” he says, tone clearly saying that he knows you haven’t just been wandering through the woods that long. That lie isn’t going to work. Apparently you’re famous in town, your face on missing persons flyers and they’d even swept the woods and had divers checking the small lake for your body.

• “I’m okay.” You’re not, but you just want to go home. Not to the police station or the hospital. Home. Your empty home. That fact has never bothered you before, but now it does. There’s no one waiting there, no one to talk to. He’s frowning at you, but he agrees to drive you home after making a call to the police, making you let them know you’re alive and found. Making you agree to go in tomorrow to explain what happened. Where you were. You don’t even have the energy to think up a lie right then.

• The guy even walks you up the drive and watches as you root around in the dirt of a very dead hanging basket of what had been impatiens a month ago to find the spare key and let yourself in. Only then does he relent and leave. You never think to ask his name, too numb and oddly empty. Around you the house is achingly silent.

• The intruder leaves and he still circles. No other vehicles. Does that mean you’re alone? No. How could you be? He transforms and lands a safe distance away, keeping low as the lights come on in the house, watching your shadow pass the windows as a dark smudge. And eventually the lights go back out. No one coming for you, because there is no one. His spark aches. He doesn’t mean to stay all night, but he can’t leave you there alone. Unwanted.

• Even if you believe he’s abandoned you, he can watch over you. Knows it’s not safe for you, but can’t make himself go. If he keeps returning here it’ll be noticed and questioned. You’ll still be in danger because of him. He knows this. And he still can’t force himself to leave you, because he is selfish. You don’t need him. But he does need you.

• Wrapping your robe around yourself as you head into the kitchen to get some coffee going, you stop short as the house creaks on its foundation. Eyes lifting to see something blocking the window. Familiar colors. Chest tight, you head outside and stare up at Starscream. He’s leaning against the house, wings drooping and optics shuttered in recharge. Like he’d spent all night outside watching over you. “You big idiot,” you sigh affectionately, your eyes burning as you reach out to touch the back of his huge hand. He hadn’t left you.

Previous Next

[galedekarios]

plagiarism in the bg3 fandom

disclaimer: this post should not be taken as a springboard to harrass anyone involved.

-

as i've stated previously, i didn't want to make this post because i have a lot going on in real life, but i have been watching this being done to others and myself for months now and i can't not speak about my experience anymore.

laiostoudenn (prev urls: lathanderr/spellbooking/wizardblood) is a plagiarist and he has a history of stealing from other creators like @minthara, @mercymaker, @onewingedangels and others.

in this post, i, finally and after much and long deliberation, want to add my voice to theirs.

i'll try to give a chronological overview of what happened as i have come to experience it, through others and myself, and as condensed as possible and to make it easier for myself to tell:

the story

i became aware of this new blog after he @ me and he messaged me. he's been following me. i was slow to engage because i have a lot of things going on in my real life that cost me a lot of energy during the day. i have also grown cautious of too quickly becoming close to strangers online. i became aware, however, that he had been doing this with multiple bigger creators in this space, like my friend @hawke, who is also a creator in the bg3 space, and who has experienced the same behaviour. they asked me if i knew him and i replied that i did not.

that was it for me at that point and i didn't engage much beyond that because i didn't know him and i thought nothing of it - until later.

during that time, whenever i saw his creations pop up increasingly, either in the tags or on my dash, i noticed more and more that they looked familiar to the works of others, from @minthara, to @mercymaker, to @onewingedangels and other creators, including myself.

it was then confirmed that i wasn't simply imagining things when, months ago, two creators were brave enough to speak up about the fact that he has been plagiarising gifsets and edits from them:

@minthara and @mercymaker:

@onewingedangels original set posted on 31st december 2023:

his set posted on 29th january 2024 (now deleted):

this was done without consent, and after he had already copied prior sets from @onewingedangels.

i would greatly recommend reading the posts shared above, and looking at the examples provided in it, so that you get a clear picture of what's happening here. it's not one isolated incident.

if you take a look at the notes in the post, you can also see other creators speaking about their experiences.

@minthara has recently also uploaded a google docs with the screenshots of the sets stolen from them because they either have been deleted, or lead to nothing due to now multiple url changes.

i was made aware today that he, following the first posts detailing @minthara and @mercymaker's experiences, apologised at first and admitted to what he's been doing on 31st march 2024:

but sadly, this wasn't to last, and the opportunity to learn and grow wasn't taken.

instead what happened was now painted as "bullying" from other creators, as "clique" behaviour and as "gatekeeping", despite many of us operating independently from each other. i, myself, have only started speaking to one other creator involved now that i have noticed the stealing and copying still ongoing.

i have in my time on this website never gatekept anything. i have shared metas, gifsets, creations, mods, art, tutorials, and many other things freely.

but back to the matter at hand: after he has been trying to ingratiate himself to me for some time now, following me, unfollowing me, and refollowing me again until i blocked him for my own mental health, i tried to remain civil before this point, engaging rarely if at all, hoping everything would go away on its own - which was a mistake in hindsight, i realise - i noticed that once again he's been lifting entire concepts and frame-by-frame gifs and sets from me.

things that he now claims - likely after he has been made aware of my prior personal posts and @minthara and @mercymaker's post circulating again by being reblogged by other people who have been affected) - were simply "remade" or "expanded" upon, that he may have been "subconsciously" influenced, while simultaneously claiming that he didn't know these sets existed in the first place, that he came up with the ideas independently, and that it's simply inevitable to use the same scenes because it's a limited game.

this doesn't hold up under scrutiny, however.

i want to make clear that i very much understand and that i am acutely aware that i do not own scenes and i do not own mods or outfits. however, what i do like to pride myself on is coming up with concepts and scene choices and captions accompanying these concepts that are unique, inspired by my metas, headcanons pertaining to gale and my own ocs altonaufein and karl, all of which i have seen copied by him several times now.

this is not as simple as simply gifing the same lines of dialogue from a scene as he and others supporting him are now postulating and i want to make that very, very clear.

another reason why this statement doesn't hold up under any scrutiny and, what ultimately confirmed my suspicion that he has been copying me, was when he - after the first post exposing his behaviour by @minthara and @mercymaker was made - reached out to me, asking if it it's ok to copy a gifset i made (note: again, this happened after he was called out for plagiarising the first time):

i didn't respond quickly enough, so he went ahead and posted it without waiting for my response (the response i gave him is pictured above and for transparancy, i responded about a day later bc of work and irl obligations).

below you can see the stolen post and what i managed to save from it:

the set was a 1:1 copy. he wanted a version for his oc so bad that he went ahead and stole my concept anyhow, without even waiting for the permission he asked for.

he went to take it down after my reply, made cautious most likely by his still fresh callout done in march 2024 by @minthara and @mercymaker, and i thought the issue was resolved and it wouldn't happen again, that he wouldn't take again without asking, despite having been told not only by myself, but by other creators as well, no. we are not comfortable.

but no. he "remade" the set, switching out gifs while complaining about how he "had to make it original":

my set in question was made on 1st february 2024, he reached out to me on 22nd april 2024 to "remake" the set. he is well aware of the existence of these ideas and concepts and sets he wants to copy, underlined by the need to ask for permission when it's simply too obvious to otherwise deny.

it's no coincidence.

like others have had the experience, i too noticed that he often would not engage with content he planned on stealing or did go through with stealing. he would sometimes present it as his own "remake" of a set he did, of another he was "inspired" or wanted to "expand upon", sometimes crediting, sometimes crediting someone largely unrelated, sometimes and, more often, not crediting.

as i mentioned above, this was not the first and not the only set/concept, which he copied from me - whether that was before asking or after asking, or not asking at all, if it was ok to copy.

i use this example mainly to show a clear pattern of behaviour that exists across the board: he takes concepts from other creators and inserts his own oc and/or favourite character into it because he wants a version of it so very badly. it does not matter if said creator might be hurt, if they told him no, or if they exposed his behaviour before. it doesn't matter how old the set is or how recent.

it is still going on today, the only difference is that he has stopped asking at all once again.

my story completely echoes that of @minthara and @mercymaker's.

concrete examples

i will now go into more detail about the concept sets he's been copying, include the caption or quote attached to it. i'm sorry that these will not be in chronological fashion. i will add at a later point, just like @minthara has done, a google document to better do side by side comparisons, highlight the similarities visually even more, and preserve some of the sets, which have now been deleted by him as recently as today:

the theme of hands in gale's romance

-> mine posted on 23rd september 2023

versus

-> his 1 posted on 24th february 2024

-> his 2 posted on 17th june 2024

i want to preface this by saying that the theme of hands was and still is incredibly important to story of my oc altonaufein and has concept of romance with gale. again, while i do not own these scenes, i wished to highlight a theme that i identified as poignant and profound within the relationship context. it's also why i added the poetry and quotes accompanying the set.

notice how even the caption format matches. the only thing lacking are my quotes / poems.

the format matches almost entirely: gifs from the same scenes (pulling gale out of the portal, the bench scene in an illusionary waterdeep, the astral sea scene, the boat scene, and more of the boat scene). the only thing that was added in this gifset are scenes that weren't available to me back then, namely the updated proposal scene, the kisses patches, and the epilogue as they came out well after i made my original gifset.

the second re-make even contains a gif that's not only the same minute detail of a larger scene - one that anyone who played gale's romance knows contains a multitude of other parts that could have been used - but also the same frames:

mine vs his:

i suppose adding that one to the original post with the same format i had chosen for mine would have made it too obvious, but that is only speculation.

gale + missing waterdeep/home

-> mine posted on 30th september 2023

versus

-> his (deleted on 18th july 2024) so i will have to include screenshots so you may compare:

same caption format, overlapping scenes chosen, only new additions are of content that wasn't available to me back when i first made my original set (the epilogue, kiss patches and proposal scene).

an attempt at "credit" even though he is only referencing my tags on an entirely separate set of a different creator, not the concept i came up with in my original set months prior.

and even though i have told him no before, just like others have told him no before.

i think it speaks volumes that this set is now, like some others, have been suddenly and coincidentally deleted.

gale of waterdeep vs gale dekarios

-> mine posted on 20th november 2023

versus

-> his posted on 13th may 2024

the concept is entirely the same, the scenes are largely overlapping, again, the caption format is almost entirely identical, with the sole difference of me including the full quote and devnotes as i'm wont to do.

gale + i love you

-> mine posted 16th september 2023

versus

-> his 2 (a "remake" of an "older" set of "his") posted on 13th may 2024

again, the concept is entirely the same, it's same caption format, the scenes largely overlap, some of the gifs added that were not available to me when i made my set (which, again, would include the epilogue, kisses patches, and the updated proposal scene).

mermay gale

-> mine posted on 13th may 2024

versus

-> his posted on 21st may 2024

it's the same concept again, the caption format is similar, it's the same setting (camp at baldur's gate), the same armour, the same armour tint, the same 3/4 pose except mirrored, and, this time, his tags were inspired too:

my tag: #i have the worst art block still and virtually no time but i still wanted to do smth for mermay so have this

his tag: #i can't do art so heres my mermay contribution i guess

copied oc post

-> mine posted on (likely) 30th september 2021

versus

-> his originally posted on may 7th 2024, which has also now been deleted on 18th july 2024:

the only thing different was the font. sadly, i deleted my oc post since i have redesigned some of them and wanted to make an updated version of it in the future.

thankfully i found the link on my friends blog, @ayrennaranaaldmeri.

as you can see, all of these happened after the first cases of plagiarism and after i personally told him that i'm not comfortable with him "remaking" my concept sets as his.

conclusion

there are many other sets that i suspect have been copied or plagiarised, i want to remain objective, however, and include the ones i feel are the most damning examples, supported by the fact that he has been deleting some of them today while again, trying to set up his narrative to his audience.

again, i want to highlight the pattern is here with him. my post is not the first, my suspicious are the first.

he knows what he is doing wrong, highlighted by the fact of trying to ask for permission, by deleting sets in question, by, at first, apologising, whilst now talking about "gatekeeping", "bullying", "inevitable repeats of scenes", "taking inspiration", "scrolling by", being "subconsciously" influenced, etc.

as a conclusion, i can say nothing more on this topic other than that i'm very sad. it doesn't give me joy. it stressed me immensely then and it still does now. i wish he'd have taken the already admitted wrong-doing to heart and grown from it, instead of attempting to change the narrative and doubling down on his past behaviour, not examining what he has done and is doing several times over by now.

i have blocked him now, as have done many others, and will not engage further with him. we have been through this before and at this point, i don't think he will change.

what i do very much hope, however, is that this is the last i hear of this happening.

edit:

updated the links to lead to his "archive" so you can access the stolen sets that he still hasn't deleted and seems to have no intentions of doing so.

[rebelfell]

I hesitate to call this a WIP because I actually have no memory of writing it and idk if I’ll ever finish it. But since I got tagged by @thecreelhouse and @keeksandgigz for WIP wednesday-on-a-thursday, here we go with some in-progress filth.

all I can say for certain is I was clearly in a Mood…

The air in the room had grown hot and stifling, condensation starting to steam up the windows as muted blue street light filtered through them.

Steve’s hands rested on your hips and you could feel every tremor of his body under yours. Taught muscles quivering, his strong grip tensing so his fingertips dug into your doughy flesh.

He had his lips pressed together, trying to stifle the whines and whimpers that fell out of him with every tortuous second that passed. But you were so wet, so tight around him, he felt like he was going to die right there nestled in your heat.

“Eddie, p-please,” you mewled, turning your head trying to catch your boyfriend’s eye as he stalked around the bed. “Please let him move, it hurts…”

The pitiful lilt in your voice was laid on a little thicker than you intended, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Eddie smiled, coming around to stand in front of you, his hand snaking into your hair to grasp it at the root.

It made you pulse around Steve and he started to huff like a bull trying not to charge.

“What hurts, princess?” Eddie asked. “Is Stevie’s big cock too much for you?”

Probably, yeah, you thought as your head shook.

His was certainly longer than any other you’d ever had. And thicker too, except for Eddie’s.

The minute you saw it for the first time, arousal had surged between your legs at the thought of it filling you. And as you straddled his lap and sank down on him so, so slowly, every inch made you question your own sanity.

It had been settled deep inside of you for nearly twenty minutes now, the both of you under strict instructions not to move. Not allowed so much as a wiggle to get more comfortable, unless of course Eddie gave you permission.

Even your hands were supposed to remain in one place, his on your hips and yours on his shoulders. With your palms touching the edges of the soft down of dark hair in the center of his chest.

And with every minute that passed, you had only grown more desperate; more pathetic and needy; more plaint and willing to do anything so long as it earned you the sweet release you craved.

But you had a feeling it would be a while yet until you got it. Eddie was clearly having too much fun.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Whitebeard fucker here lol I’ve been summoned. Could you write something with a reader whose used to being the biggest guy around meeting whitebeard and going “ohhh” and wanting to climb that man like a tree? Any and all kinks are up to your choosing monsieur gator!! Also happy birthday man!

Edward “Whitebeard” Newgate x male reader

Headcanons

Bit my lip so fucking hard when I saw this request. Whitebeard enjoyers come assemble!

Thanks for the birthday wish :) I ended up getting a lot of comics and manga, so I’m very happy.

Reader possesses a devil fruit I made up I call the sun-sun Fruit. Hes also like 16 ft 9. Hes also at least 40+ years old. Old man yaoi.

You had known of Whitebeards existence ever since you started traveling the sea, who didn’t? The guy was a legend known as the strongest man alive, someone to avoid if you did the type of business you did.

You were a bit of an everything man. Information gathering, Intimidation, bodyguarding, assassin, anything that paid you a lot and you didn’t have to hurt the innocent, Youd do it.

The world government were cautious of you, but always let you get away with things others wouldn’t, as you also took jobs for them if need be. You played on every board, siding with pirates, with marines, with the poor, and with the rich. As long as they had good reason for asking for your help.

Your Sun-Sun fruit always helped with this as well, making you an extremely powerful fighter, possessing the ability to gather and store solar energy and light itself. After mastering it you could easily create explosions big enough to destroy islands, coat your body in solar energy, or coat your weapons, as well as many other things.

Your preferred weapon were spears, your most beloved weapon a naginata that had been gifted to you after a job well done, some celestial who fanboyed over pirates wanting to give you a big reward. The naginata was supposedly cursed, but you two got along a little too well most days.

All in all, you were well known in your own circles, but nowhere near as much as someone like Whitebeard.

That was also the reason you turned down your latest request to kill Whitebeard. You might have been strong, but you were never an idiot. You might have stood at almost 17 feet, towering over anyone you had ever met, but even you know Whitebeards crew was so loyal it was lethal.

The people giving you the request has been annoyed about you rejecting it, but they could do nothing to stop you as you left, on your way to the next island. There was never a destination in mind if you didn’t have a contract, so you just called it joy sailing.

It was mere coincidence that you found yourself sailing through Whitebeards territory. You had no need for a crew, as you had mastered the skill to create stand-ins with your sun-sun fruit, creating human shaped beings out of condensed solar energy.

The ship you traveled in wasn’t too big either, especially compared to the moby dick. But they had easily spotted you, and your “crew” had spotted them in return. For some reason the whitebeard crew were interested in you, though their interest made your heartrate skyrocket as the moby dick neared your own much smaller ship.

When it became clear they weren’t there to fight, you agreed to link up your ships, even if it was just because you knew they could end you before you would be able to run for it.

Stepping onto the ship, part of you was curious at their lack of reaction to your towering height, even as they had to turn their heads all the way back to look at you to ask questions about your “light crew”, or one of them demanding to know what your favorite food was, or where you got your naginata.

When you finally met Whitebeard though, it all made sense. The guy made even you feel small, even though he wasn’t towering over you the same way you were the rest of his crew. Maybe it was his presence, as he laughed and patted you on the back, greeting you by the nickname the masses called you.

But all you could think about was how seeing someone taller than you made you feel. Just feeling his large hand patting your shoulder, or seeing how he was still taller than you when you sat, was enough for you to think about booking it again.

You had no idea why, but for some reason you stuck around with the Whitebeard crew for a while. To the point where they started acting like you were part of the crew. Even when you tried to turn it down, they’d just give you a knowing look before ignoring your complaints.

In your opinion, you were too old to join someone’s crew, especially with you being known as a “backstabber”, as you never picked one specific side.

And yeah, you knew why you were sticking around for so long. It was all Whitebeard, and that weird, fluttering feeling he gave you, and the arousal he caused, but that was not as important…for the most part.

It was only after the crew had settled on the island to restock that you thought about leaving for real. One of your contacts had called you on your den den mushi, and told you about a very high paying job. You might have been so rich your ancestors would live in luxury, but you could never get enough.

Unluckily for you, Whitebeard had overheard the call. He had looked sad about you wanting to leave, but had invited you to join him for a drink before you packed up and went on your way.

That’s how you found yourself sitting beside him in front of a bonfire, just the two of you, both of you decently buzzed and flushed. Your devil fruit power made you mostly immune to alcohol, the heat of the sun burning the alcohol away before it could work, but whatever stuff Whitebeard had on him seemed to have the right kick.

Later you would blame the alcohol for your reaction when Whitebeards hand settled on your lower back. You had abandoned your jacket a while ago, some of Whitebeards crew running off with it to use it for some drunk game they were playing.

Your devil fruit also worked best without too much clothes in the way, meaning Whitebeards hand was right on your back, and your thirsty self had arched into it with a soft groan, your head flopping to the side to rest against him.

Whitebeard had chuckled, but it wasn’t his usual loud guffaw, but something deeper and smoother, like melted dark chocolate or the best whiskey you had ever drank.

His hand had rubbed and massaged your back until you felt like putty, small sparks of light and solar energy flickering across your torso as your control slipped, Whitebeard huffing amusedly at the small jolts it sent through his arm.

You would blush in the future when thinking about it, denying it ever happened, before blaming the alcohol once more. But in that moment, it was impossible to not spill all the thoughts you had about him. How he made you feel so hot inside, how much you fantasied about him, his hands, his height, his cock.

Whitebeard had seemed almost charmed, and maybe he was. It wasn’t every day that someone his age and especially his size had someone fawning over them. Maybe that was why he pulled you into his lap, with your back resting against his chest, as his battle worn hands traveled across the front of your torso.

He murmured and purred into your ears as one of his large, calloused hands groped and pinched at one of your pecs, making you gasp and arch into the touch, legs jolting until his other hand came down to hold your thigh in place.

The praise falling from his lips had you feeling much drunker than you were, vision blurring for a second before you were able to focus again, your own hands grasping at his pantleg as you huffed out a breath.

The veins across your body lit up every now and then from the stored solar energy in your body flickering, causing Whitebeard to chuckle that deep chuckle once more, making some comment about that being a nice party trick.

You were about to snap back a rebuttal, something rude about his own devil fruit power, but before the words could even leave you, the hand gripping your thick slid under your waistband.

Embarrassment flooded your system as you keened, head falling back onto his chest as your hips jolted. And how crazy was that? He was so tall your head fall onto his chest, not his shoulder, not above his own head, his chest.

It had your throbbing even more, immediately coating his palm in a layer of precum, making Whitebeard tsk teasingly, before rubbing the palm against the head of your sensitive shaft, only making you drip even more.

What could you say. You were sensitive. Being your size made it pretty hard to find a partner who could keep up with you, or someone you wouldn’t hurt on accident. And as your fame grew, less and less individuals even wanted to give it a try.

That was why you were keening and whimpering in Whitebeards lap like some kind of virgin, at least that’s what you told yourself to keep your dignity.

It didn’t explain the way you jolted and spilled into his hand when Whitebeard grabbing your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you. Your eyes rolled back, and solar energy flashed across your body as you came, gasping into his mouth, your breath so hot It would have harmed anyone not as sturdy as Whitebeard.

With his lips still pressed against yours he mumbled praise, telling you stuff that had you melting even further into his embrace, hips still jolting and twitching into his hand like you didn’t want it to end.

As you rolled your hips you could feel his own erection, and you almost wanted to pass out from just how big he felt. You had never met anyone who was bigger than you in that way, yet here Whitebeard was, pretty much offering it to you on a silver platter.

The night was spent with Whitebeard wringing more than just a couple of orgasms out of you, at some point leaving you so overstimulated and pleasured that your body had phased out, turning into solar energy.

Whitebeard had cackled loudly at the sight, seeing how you were in so much pleasure you couldn’t even stay solid. When you finally came back to yourself, he placed a big kiss on your cheek and then your mouth, making some teasing comment about it all.

The next morning you couldn’t look his crew in the eye, the knowing looks boring into your large broad back, that for once was wearing a shirt, to cover most of the hickeys their captain had left on you.

And if you just so happened to turn down the job offer your informant gave you, and if you just so happened to attach your ship to their fleet, and you just so happened to start being referred to in the same parental way as Whitebeard, who would be the wiser.

You honestly had no idea how to react when Whitebeards, and you guessed now your, crew started referring to you with a fatherly title in the same way they called Whitebeard Pops. You hadn’t wanted to be open about your relationship with Whitebeard, but to the crew it was so damn obvious.

Even when you and Whitebeard became official, and maybe even married at some point, you still took jobs every now and then, never getting enough of the thrill of money. But it was a lot less, and you pretty much cut all contact with the world government.

Sure, that got you a bounty and a high reward, but you honestly couldn’t care. After all this time you realized, maybe a crew wasn’t so bad. It also helped to have a partner that made you feel safe and cared for, whilst also leaving you limping in the best possible way.

[llilyrose]

So, you know that ISAT au I mentioned in my yass-girlboss King post??

HHHHHEEEERE WE GO .... info below keep reading!!! lots of words!!!! In Stars And Time FULL spoilers!!!!!

(Note: The Reset AU will be posted on @slowlysoluminary but i will be reblogging from my main)

There are some really interesting Siffrin-Meets-The-King-First aus that float around. I see them sometime! they're great! But I, as an adoring King fan, had to sit down and ask myself:

"So, uhh, like why?"

AND I DID SOME THINKING!!!!!

The King notices you're looping in Act 3. That's great! Not for Siffrin, but great narratively. If he notices it in that loop specifically, I feel like he would notice in other loops, too.

So, Act 5. The King notices how much of a formidable opponent siffrin is (among other things), acknowledges he's from the same country, recognizes wish craft, yadda yadda yadda.

He wants Siffrin to understand and resonate with his reasons for trapping an entire country in time, and while Siffrin is busy in his mind space fighting Mal Du Pays, the King makes a wish. AND HE LOOPS!!!!!??????

... Uhh, kind of? Not really. It resets the timeline all the way back to when the country was erased, but instead of the King having full memory, they're more like... vague snippets that hint at what he once was.

So, um! The first part of the AU is about the King's 10-year-long descent into madness. It's heavily condensed but it's there!! there's lore there!! I'm a king fan he needs a backstory.

"His name is Lazare" HE HAD TO HAVE A NAME BEFORE HIS KING DAYS... it's heavily implied the King wasn't his original name, and my headcanon helpfully supplied that he underwent a Change inside the house during his rise to power. I think there's like, a Head Defender? And the King was Head Defender, with full access to all libraries inside the house, when he started going crazy.

At 22 he loses all his memory while travelling in Vaugarde. Nobody knows his name so he comes up with one! He meets Siffrin 4 years later and they both travel Vaugarde together.

He becomes a defender at 29 because we see firsthand how INVESTED this dude is in Vaugarde. He wants, NEEDS this country to be safe!! he has a lot of patriotism!!! He's not actively searching for what happened to him or his country, he's just accepted it and is building himself up as a person.

oh boy .. when he turns 31 he becomes Head Defender.... And when he starts reading higher-access books throughout the house documenting a disappearing country? He gets MORBIDLY curious. And... well... this fixation leads him down the rabbit hole that got him where he is today! Except, this time, with Siffrin on his side...?

Yup! Siffrin is here! They've been here the whole time! Siffrin watches a man he's grown to love and adore fall into the Deep End. And he would find the strength to be mad about what he's doing if it weren't for the fact he was super sympathetic!!! ugh!!! sympathy!!!

Siffrin agrees with the King... but not really? He agrees with his reasons but completely disagrees with the way he's going about it. The change from Lazare to King was gradual, but towards the end he treats Siffrin more like an object of study than a friend.

The King takes his cloak and hat to study the stitching, the King won't let him cut or dye his hair again because he wants (NEEDS) this still image of his culture, etc.

Siffrin pretends his behavior doesn't bother him (because the King goes full Mansplain Manipulate Malewife on him if he voices his dissent) and keeps sneaking away from the King using his hat-less/cloak-less disguise.

In doing so, he meets a wild Mirabelle! It becomes a habit to visit her and the villagers under this "disguise" (it's only convincing in the way that Clark Kent is convincing) and he's feeling that same friendship with them that he used to back when the King was Lazarus.

... Until the House gets frozen? And the king starts Freezing People In Time For Real? No warning? Siffrin is HORRIFIED, rightfully, and also super upset. Partly because Mirabelle "got frozen" (she did not get frozen) and partly because the king has TOTALLY LOST HIS MIND NOW. no trace or remnant of who he used to be. but siffrin wants to hold on.

and then Siffrin gets stuck in a time loop! Whoops! Honest mistake!

"How does he get stuck in a Time Loop if there's no party to stick with?" ok so. of course he's going to learn Wish Craft from the King, duh. The King tells him literally everything about rhe country as he discovers it (albeit, in incoherent rambles.). And he also has his own muscle memory to draw from!

In desperation, he makes a wish: Save Vaugarde/Sav the King.

"Which one of those two is it?" Idk! That's what he spends the timeloops finding out!

Oh, wait, now that I've talked about the time loops, I CAN TALK ABOUT LOOP!!! LOOP IS NEW AND DIFFERENT!!!

^^ This was the initial ref sheet i made while brainstorming for this au (and also the sheet that birthed King In Magical Girl Poses)

"So what's loop's deal?" yeah, um, that's the thing? Loop doesn't know either!

Loop is not hiding their identity! Much like King, they domn't remember anything until afterthe Reset. They're Siffrin, yes, but not Siffrin from SASASA:AP. They're Siffrin from In Stars and Time. They're THE Siffrin that the King's wish Reset!

Thus, Loop looks very different!!!! And acts a little bit different!!! Siffrin is the only one who can see Loop, for the time being, and they follow him throughout the loops instead of staying stagnant under the Favor Tree.

They don't like the idea of not knowing who they are, or where they're from. Siffrin sympathizes with the star, initially thinking that they just... had the same thing happen to them that happened to the king? But the reason Loop follows Siffrin through the house is because they NEED to know who they used to be, and what in the Universe happened to them. Certain things trigger certain memories, and... it certainly doesn't help that the party enters the fray.

"So was the King's wish not important?" THE KING'S WISH WAS VERY IMPORTANT.

Not only did it CAUSE the reset, but it gave King the precise tools to get a timeline that fulfilled his wish (It's not the Universe's fault he lost himself and his only chance).

BUT ALSO!! ALSOOOOOOO!!!! THE KING'S WISH CORRUPTED THE WHOLE TIMELINE.

Loops are meant to reset to the day before, with no one"s memory remaining except for Siffrin's.

This loop completely Reset the timeline.

The King kept hints of his memories from the past.

The party gets dejá vū from the moment they meet to the moment they step foot in the house. They feel like something is missing.

Loop shouldn't be here. Loop should be... Loop. Loop didn't wish to be here - it's a direct violaton of his initial wish to stay with his friends, but it's a wish that technically got overwritten when the Reset happened?

Ironically, Siffrin is the only one Out Of The Loop (hehe)

,,,,,,,,,

"okay so what's the stuff IN the timeloop?" you see. you seeeeee. I've been worldbuilding so that I can figure that out. And I still don't know..... I'm setting it up with this post so I can elaborate on anything later (asks are appreciated)

"You should write/draw about this" I am! Ao3 is llilyrose but idk if I'll end up posting anything there. Of course, my tumblr is llilyrose, too....

"You stole this from user llilyrose on ISAT discord!" um, look at my url again. thx

"What if I have questions about the worldbuilding/characters/etc." send an ask, fool.... I'd really appreciate it .....

[thetreefairy]

hii, i was wondering if u still do the yan!father muzan + reader? if you do, i’d be very happy to leave a request here!

so i was thinking if the reader could accidentally cut off a large portion of their hair and is unable to fix it by themselves and is now crying. how would muzan react and what would he do?

Hiii, I still write for everything actually, im just not that active because my adult life is kicking my ass— and writers block go brrr.

This was apparently in my drafts, so surprise?

Warnings; Muzan is a bit of a bitch in this one, but not really the author is too tired to write a full on bitch Muzan. Reader isnt a great hairdresser. Mentions of being kidnapped

GN reader with long hair mentioned

Plan stupid games, with stupid prizes

..... It took everything in Muzan's power to not laugh at his child's tears. Honestly what they expect would happen when they were playing hairdresser, that they would come out looking hot? Please, they can barely cut a straight line on paper.

Still he was rather pleased with how Reader sought out his comfort, turns out that they can pretend to be his obedient child. "I didn't mean to cut so much off." Reader whined as they cried, honestly they didn't. They just wanted to cut off some split ends that have been annoying them since they turned into a demon. "I just wanted to get rid off my split ends!"

"Baby," muzan interrupted readers rambling with a condensing tone. "You can barely cut a straight line, so you should have expected this." He was purring as Reader's breath hitched and he continued to rub their back. "When you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes."

Okay reader was about to smack his ass, their eyes twitched in annoyance as they pulled away from him. Now Muzan couldn't have that. "But I'll recut it for you," muzan purred once more, but reader was suspicious. Rightfully so. "If you stay on your best behaviour for a month."

".... I would rather cut it myself." Reader couldn't help but hiss, their tears drying up quickly as they finally realized he was still their kidnapper, and they should not have want to be cuddled by him. But then again they're touchstarved and Muzan had gotten into their mind (especially after turning). But they had to remember, he still harmed them in ways he could not seem to understand or realize was wrong.

"awh do you not trust your papa?" Muzan cooed, amused by their quick mood change. It seems like Daki has been rubbing off on her. "Papa did dabble in hairdressing a few 100 years back when he was bored."

".... No thanks I don't want to come out with a bowl cut."

[withahappyrefrain]

I wish you would write a fic where... College!Tasm!Peter gets reaallyyy jealous at Reader talking to her ex bf and fucks her on his bed until she’s a bumbling mess 🫣

I think it's time for blonde!Peter to come back

It was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.

You were barely engaged in the conversation, more focused on the condensation forming on your red solo cup than what your ex had to say.

The interaction shouldn't have bothered him. You were his. Hell, you were even wearing his snapback.

And yet, his blood still boiled at the sight. His hands still balled up into fists. Wade joked that he could steam coming out of Peter's ears.

The dickbag was trying to flirt. Key word was try.

It was awkward as hell, clearly trying to evoke the 'oh remember how much fun we had, minus the part where I ghosted you and refused to eat you out because I'm a little bitch?' card. Every step he took towards you, you'd take a step away. With your arms crossed and the way your eyes focused on anything other than him, it should have been obvious you weren't interested.

And yet, the fucker still had the audacity to put his hand on your shoulder and squeeze it.

Peter didn't have to wait for you to send him the look. He was over there immediately, arm wrapped around your waist.

"She's busy," was all Peter curtly said, before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

Despite your shrieks, you didn't mind it.

Nor did you mind when he brought you to his bedroom.

You especially didn't mind when he had you on your back, knees pressed to your chest as he thrust into you.

"You look so good underneath me babe," He grunted, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he watched your body wither from his touch.

"Y-yeah," his touch was overwhelming, your body reeling from your previous orgasms.

Peter simply smirked, his fingers trailing down to right above where your bodies connected.

Jolts of pleasure sparked throughout your body as his long fingers drew circles on your clit. The band in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter with each thrust. His teeth sink into your exposed collarbone, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

Only he got to see you like this, back arched with your head thrown back in pleasure. Only he got to make you feel like this, causing your cunt to clench and spasm in pleasure around his cock.

No one else.

"You gonna come again baby? Let me hear it. Let them all hear how much you love my cock."

Normally his dirty words would fluster you. Your cheeks still burn, but this time they're intensifying the ache between your legs, fueling your need to be consumed by him and only him.

What could best be described as a broken wail fell from your lips. In reality, it was doubtful that those in the hallway could hear you over the blaring music. But the idea that maybe they could hear you, could hear the bed frame slam against the wall, could hear the grunts Peter was letting out as you fell apart around his cock, fueled a deeper desire in you two.

Your hands weakly grabbed his bleached hair, making a feeble attempt to tug on the thick locks.

"Don't worry baby, not done with ya. Fuck no," Peter's chuckle was dry, his body trying to hold on, trying to stall off his own release, "You're gonna come again. Whatcha think about that? Ya wanna fall apart on my cock again?"

A whine fell from your lips. Sensitivity surged through your body, mixing with the euphoric pleasure.

"I......I, Peter I-" what were you even asking for?

"Aw, is my baby already fucked dumb from my cock? You're so smart, until my cock is inside ya. Can't focus on anything else can ya?"

"Peter....want...." Normally you were so good at multitasking. But with the way his cock was thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, the idea of being able to focus on anything other than the sensation between your legs seemed next to impossible.

"C'mon baby," His breath is hot against your ear, "Use ya words."

A feeble moan fell from your lips as you shook your head. It was too much, but somehow also not enough.

What did you want? The words were on the tip of your tongue, tricking you into thinking you could express them, only to run away as soon as Peter's cock brushed against that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.

"C'mon, use your words," His speed increases, his hands now grabbing the flesh of your hips as he drives into you, "What. Do. You. Want?"

Each word is emphasized with a pointed thrust. His honeyed eyes are overtaken with lust, irises overblown by a pure black. The scent of cinnamon is overwhelming your nostrils as his stubbled jawline brushes against yours.

It's only when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that you find the words, now driven by a red hot burning need.

"Want your cum! Want your cum inside me, please, want it so bad, wanna be filled with you, want you to fill me up, please Peter!"

His thrusts slow down, which you think is done to tease. In reality, Peter knows if he doesn't, he'll come immediately. And he wants to draw this out as long as possible. Wants people to notice that you and him have been gone for quite some time.

Peter's imagining your stupid ex still lingering around. Dumbass was probably wondering how you two weren't done yet, given the man's notorious record for the quickest, saddest sex ever.

"Peter-"

"I got ya baby," he leaned down, hovering over your body as he pulled your thighs to his hips. He was now (somehow) deeper inside of you, hips rutting into yours.

"Gonna fill you up real good. Make you mine." You can only whine at his words, your body overstimulated from the immense pleasure.

His lips swallowed your moans. You didn't even need to look, you could feel that smirk radiating off of him. A deep groan fell from his lips when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Between the bass from the outside music vibrating the floor to the smell of cinnamon that always engulfed Peter, you felt completely at bliss, content for him to continue to use you until his own release.

With one final tug on his hair, Peter's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. What were once moans and wood slamming filling the room were now heavy pants as you both tried to catch your breath.

"That was...wow."

Peter lifted his head up, a boyish grin overtaking gus face, "Was? Who said we were done?"

"Peter....you already..." You froze upon realizing he was still hard. Still inside of you.

"Perks of a radioactive spider bite. I'm far from done with you babygirl."

You were in for a long night.